The Shaktra (35 page)

There was
something
up ahead. A cloaked evil.

Slowly, Ali drew out the Yanti. She did not whisper “Alosha,” but repeated it mentally, as she carefully placed the Yanti first on her forehead, her heart, and finally on the top of her head. The field that always surrounded her swelled in size and filled with light, and she knew the
thing
in front of her knew what she was doing, and was amused. Far off, it seemed, Ali heard female laughter, a mocking sound that told her it
welcomed
her efforts to dispel it. However, it was at that moment that the evil presence diminished, and appeared to depart.

Putting away the Yanti, Ali strode quickly forward.

At the entrance to the cave she found a nightmare.

Ra lay unconscious in the snow, barely breathing.

Trae also lay sprawled in the snow, his chest badly burnt, but alive.

Amma sat inside the cave, leaning back against a cold wall. There was a seared thumbprint on her forehead between her empty eyes.

Ali recoiled in horror. The Shaktra had come! The Shaktra had touched her!

Amma was now marked.

Ali knelt by her side, took her hand. “Amma. Amma!”

Amma’s eyes did not blink, her head hung like a discarded marionette.

Weeping, Ali hugged her. “Mother!” she cried, and the word just burst out of her mouth, and it was true. The chamber was a
family
tomb, that’s why Amma had led her to it. That’s why Amma had only arisen two weeks ago, and returned to Uleestar, because her
human
counterpart had been murdered then. That was why there was blood on the sheets. Now that it was too late, Ali thought bitterly, it was all clear. Her nightmare two weeks ago had not been a premonition, it had been a recognition of what was happening right then.

Amma rocked in her arms like a lifeless doll.

All this time, Ali had been seeking what was right beside her.

Her heart heavy, Ali eventually let go of Amma and rose and knelt beside Trae. She was able to rouse the high fairy by stroking his forehead. Opening his green eyes, he stared up at her and his lower lip trembled.

“Sorry, Geea,” he whispered.

“Tell me what happened.”

He coughed. “A dragon came, a dark fairy, and something else, it was awful. We saw them in the distance, but the dragon was fast. It struck near here with its flame and a piece of the kloudar fell off. Drash rushed to meet it, in midair, to fight it, but it was four times his size. . .” Trae had to stop to catch his breath.

“Is Drash still alive?” she asked.

“Don’t know. He fell close to where we landed. He was not moving.”

“What happened next?”

“The dark fairy shot me in the chest. That’s all I remember.”

“You did not see the Shaktra?”

“No.”

“It was here.” Ali swallowed. “Amma has been marked.”

“I know.”

“She’s my mother, isn’t she?”

Trae nodded. “She could not tell you, you had to discover it for yourself.”

“Why couldn’t she tell me?”

“You had to
see
the truth with your own eyes to
know
the truth. You had to see
yourself
, so that you could know that there are two sides to the same coin—human life and elemental life.”

Ali nodded. “We are all humans, and we are all elementals. At one time we’re on Earth, at another time we’re here. We cycle back and forth.” She paused. “But I knew that already.”

“Did you?”

“Well, not clearly. But I still don’t understand how Amma could not tell me who she was. I mean, she was my mom, she
is
my mom, and all this time I’ve missed her so much, and I was with her, and. . .” Ali could not finish; a spring of fresh tears would not let her. Trae spoke gently.

“Perhaps you knew the truth with your head, but not your heart. That is key to understanding this great mystery. The elemental is the magical side of each individual, the heart, while the human being is the intellectual side, the head. One is not complete without the other and yet, so far, few humans—or elementals for that matter—realize that.”

His words were profound, but did nothing to dispel her grief.

“Amma still should have told me,” she whispered.

Trae stared at her with his own pain. “She did not expect it to end this way. She thought this moment, up here on this kloudar, would be the greatest moment of your life. That it would be magical.” He added, “It was our hope that magic would enable you to regain your
complete
memory of Geea.”

“She thought the shock of what I saw in there would trigger the memories?”

“Yes. That it would act as a catalyst.” Trae paused, to cough, and the faint but explicit hope in his next remark could not be disguised. “Do you remember more now?”

Ali heard an unspoken level to his question, sensed the desperation in it, actually, buried beneath the words. “What are you asking?”

Trae hesitated. “Do you know how Geea planned to defeat the Shaktra?”

Ali hung her head. “No. I don’t. . .nothing is there.”

Trae took time to absorb the bad news. When he spoke next, his voice was very weak. “At least now you can see why it’s hopeless
for the elementals to invade the Earth. Neither side can win. They would just be killing themselves.”

“Then why does the Shaktra want this war?” she asked.

Trae sighed, and closed his eyes. “It must be insane.”

She went to ask another question, but Trae had blacked out. Worried about the cold, she pulled him farther inside the cave, beside Amma, and did the same with Ra. Her favorite warrior did not appear wounded, but her touch failed to wake him, and she could see that he would not live much longer at this altitude.

Ali went in search of Drash, found him lying so near the rim of the kloudar that a strong wind could have pushed him over the edge. His side was badly burned—many of his scales had been melted away—and his right wing lay shattered beneath him, his broken bones sticking through his torn skin and into the bloody snow. His blood was a dark red, as she had noted before, so much like a human’s.

Yet he was alive, his red eyes opened as she put her hand on his side.

“How do you feel?” she asked.

He tried to smile. “Like a dragon,” he said.

“Did you recognize the one you fought?”

“My uncle, Chashar.” He added softly, “He did not hesitate to strike me.”

“Did you see the Shaktra on its back?”

“There was something there. . . Drash did not get a clear look.”

Ali examined his broken limb. “You’re not going to get off this kloudar without two healthy wings,” she said.

Weary, he closed his eyes. “None of us is going to get off this kloudar.”

Ali shook her head, and sat in the snow by his side, so near the edge of the cold mountain that she could see practically the
entire elemental kingdom in one glance. From her pocket she drew out the gold box of stardust, and poured the blue material onto her palm. For a long time she studied it—their salvation, or her death. Drash opened one eye and stared at her.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Playing our last card,” she said, and with that she swallowed the lot.

Karl had locked them back up against the wall in the cave, this time using long bolts that were hammered through their shackles into the crusty stone walls, and it had made them both think—for certain—that they were never going to see the light of day again. But then Karl had left them alone for the night, and to Steve’s surprise, as well as Cindy’s, the pain in their arms never returned to the previous level, although they were far from comfortable. It was as if Nira’s healing had staying power. The blisters on Steve’s palm never came back, and Cindy’s cut had looked worse than it was. It had bled for only a few minutes.

During the night they both managed to doze, and when they were awake they mostly talked about inconsequential stuff: where they had gone on holidays, what movies and books they had liked, people at school. They scarcely mentioned Ms. Smith at all.

The dim cave disallowed any clear concept of time, but Steve figured at one point that the night had to be long over, and that it might even be late the following day. He was confused why Ms. Smith had not returned to question them further, but who
knew what a witch like that got up to in her spare time? He hoped he got to see her once more before he died. He wanted to spit in her face.

Cindy felt the same way. They comforted themselves that they had not given Ms. Smith any useful information that could be used against Ali. That was one good thing. Their fairy friend had been wise not to share with them her deepest thoughts. They just prayed, even if they were doomed, that Ali was able to return and kill Ms. Smith. If the witch was not the Shaktra, she was still bad news. Most of all, they hoped Nira got away from her evil mother, if the woman was indeed her mother. They both loved the girl, they hardly knew why.

“Oh my gosh!” a voice cried out in horror while they were in the midst of one of their mutual dozing attempts. Opening their eyes, Steve and Cindy were thrilled to see Rose, with Nira in tow. The nanny rushed toward them, anguish on her face, and pulled on their chains. Of course she got nowhere, but that was not the point. Someone knew they were being held captive!

Steve smiled. “We are so happy to see you, you have no idea.”

Rose was on the verge of tears. “Nira’s been trying to drag me down here all day, I didn’t know what had gotten into her. But I should have listened, you poor dears. How long have you been here?”

“If it’s evening, it’s been more than thirty hours,” Cindy said.

Rose was a mass of nerves, she kept pulling on the chains. “We’ve got to get you out of here! We’ve got to get you out now!”

Steve sought to calm her. “Relax a second. Is Ms. Smith upstairs?”

“No. Is she the one who put you down here?”

“It wasn’t the Easter Bunny,” Cindy muttered.

“It was her, but let’s worry about that later. Is Karl upstairs?” Steve asked.

Rose grimaced. “Who’s Karl?”

“A kid our age, he carries a mean switchblade,” Cindy said.

Rose shook her head. “The only people in the house are Nira and me. This is criminal! I have to get you out of here!”

“We’re lucky the house is empty,” Steve said. “These chains have been hammered into the wall. They’re not coming off—they’ll have to be cut. Do you know if Ms. Smith keeps a chain saw or heavy duty clippers in her garage?”

Rose nodded anxiously. “The gardener has these clippers that can cut through anything. I saw him use them on a fence when Ms. Smith expanded the backyard. The fence was down in minutes.”

“That sounds perfect,” Steve said. “Hurry and get them. You can leave Nira here.”

Rose appeared dazed, touched the little girl’s head. “Will she be safe down here?”

“We’ll keep an eye on her,” Cindy said.

Nira did not speak, or show any emotion, while Rose was gone. But Steve and Cindy sure did. They could not stop smiling, they could not stop blabbering. They were not going to die! They were going to be rescued!

“You saved us!” Cindy beamed at Nira.

The little girl did not return the smile, nor did her dark eyes brighten.

Rose returned in five minutes, and her clippers lived up to their promise. They were big for her to handle, but it was clear to Steve the blades were made of an alloy that was capable of cutting even stainless steel. He had to carefully guide Rose as to where to place the blades, but the second she clamped down on
the wooden handles, the shackles snapped. In two minutes he was free, and he had Cindy loose seconds later. Cindy took Nira’s hand as they limped upstairs behind Rose. The circulation in their limbs was poor, but at least Rose knew which ladders to take.

Once again, they were opening the front door when they ran into Karl.

He came off the porch like a madman, slamming the door at his back, pinning Rose to the wall, his blade at her neck, drawing a tiny drop of blood, which traced a thin red line down the nanny’s neck. A wave of black despair descended over Steve. It was not easy, no it was really very hard, to go from ecstasy to terror in the space of two seconds.

Karl sneered. “Don’t move an inch or I’ll cut her throat!”

“Oh God, oh God!” Rose gasped, trembling in his hands.

Steve held up his palms. “Calm down. You don’t have to cut her.”

Karl was a maniac. “Don’t tell me what to do!”

“What is your problem, anyway?” Cindy demanded.

“Please, please!” Rose cried.

“What do you want?” Steve asked.

Karl grinned, he appeared possessed. The pupils of his eyes were three sizes too big, and he could not speak without panting. Steve honestly believed that Ms. Smith had cast some sort of spell on him. For all his wickedness on top of the mountain, he had at least acted coherent. Now he was like a wild beast.

“Information!” he swore. “If you don’t give it to me, I cut her throat! Right now, right in front of you!”

“Boy, you need to chill,” Cindy said, but she was as white as Rose.

“Ask what you want. We’ll try to answer,” Steve said.

“How did Ali activate the Yanti?” he demanded.

“We don’t know,” Cindy replied. “We told your witch boss as much. I was near Ali and Lord Vak when she activated it, and I heard her whisper something into it. But I don’t know what that something was. That’s the truth.”

“You’re hurting me!” Rose moaned.

Karl shook her, turned back to them. “Not good enough! What did she whisper?”

Cindy gestured. “It was some kind of chant.”

“Was it one word? Two words? Three words?”

Cindy shook her head. “It might have been one word, said over and over again. So much was going on right then, I couldn’t hear it. Ali was careful, I doubt Lord Vak heard what she said.”

“Tell me more!” Karl cried, the veins on his neck bulging.

“If she doesn’t know, she doesn’t know,” Steve pleaded. “Let Rose go.”

“Does Ali think Ms. Smith is the Shaktra?” Karl yelled.

“She suspects! The last time we saw her, she didn’t know anything for sure!” Steve said. “We told Ms. Smith that! There’s nothing more we can say!”