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Authors: Christopher Pike

The Shaktra

BOOK: The Shaktra
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P
RAISE FOR
A
LOSHA

“With many plot twists and plenty of excitement, this novel will appeal to action-oriented fantasy readers.”


VOYA

“A fast-paced combination of intrigue and fantasy. The writing is smooth and flows easily, and the author captures well the friends’ dialogue and thought. Readers are sure to be captivated by the descriptive details and entertaining plot complete with dwarves, elves, fairies, and trolls.”


School Library Journal

“Will undoubtedly entertain. Ali is a multilayered character, believably working through her flaws and false assumptions to develop into the fairy queen. The backstory is compelling, the action is fast-paced, the danger is real. Sure to be a blockbuster.”


Bulletin of the Center for Children’s Books

P
RAISE
F
OR
T
HE
N
OVELS
OF
C
HRISTOPHER
P
IKE

“Highly recommended. Really charismatic protagonists. I couldn’t put this one down.”


Rocky Mountain News
on
The Listeners

“Winning.”


Booklist
on
Bury Me Deep

“Instantly engaging.”


Publishers Weekly
on
Chain Letter

THE
S
HAKTRA

_______________________________

Christopher Pike

The author and publisher have provided this e-book to you without Digital Rights Management software (DRM) applied so that you can enjoy reading it on your personal devices. This e-book is for your personal use only. You may not print or post this e-book, or make this e-book publicly available in any way. You may not copy, reproduce or upload this e-book, other than to read it on one of your personal devices.

Copyright infringement is against the law. If you believe the copy of this e-book you are reading infringes on the author’s copyright, please notify the publisher at:
us.macmillanusa.com/piracy
.
Table of Contents

Also by the Author

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Back Cover

 

 

 

 

For Jason

THE

S
HAKTRA

   CHAPTER   
1

When thirteen-year-old Ali Warner answered the knock on her door, a policeman was standing on her porch. She was not surprised. Officer Mike Garten had stopped by two weeks earlier to ask about the disappearance of Karl Tanner. Although it was partially a lie, she had told him she had no idea where her classmate was. Apparently her answers had not satisfied the cop. He was back and he was not smiling.

“Ali Warner, you remember me, don’t you?” he asked. He was on the young side for a policeman, in his mid-twenties, and his dark mustache looked so out of place on his pale face that she thought it might wash off in the rain. Tall, too thin for his neat uniform, he nevertheless carried a gun and a badge—two items she could not ignore, even if she wanted to.

“Of course, Officer Garten,” she said. “What can I do for you?”

Garten tried to peer past her. “Is your father home?”

“No.”

“Will he be home soon?”

“No.”

“I have a few questions I wanted to ask about Karl Tanner. You know we still haven’t located him?”

“That’s a shame. What do you want to ask?”

He took a step forward. “Mind if I come in?”

She did not move out of his way. “Sorry, my father doesn’t let me have strangers in the house while he’s gone.” She could not let the policeman inside because she feared he might see the leprechaun sitting at her kitchen table, and hear the troll that was pacing her basement. Just before answering the door, she had told Paddy and Farble to be quiet, something neither was very good at.

Garten appeared annoyed, but quickly hid it. He took out a pen and notepad. “When I was here before, you said the last time you saw Karl was Tuesday, June fifth. You said he came over to your house in the evening to talk. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“May I ask what you two talked about?”

“Stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Music. TV shows. The weather.”

“He didn’t say anything about going away?”

“No.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

Garten was unconvinced. “Because that same night, according to his parents, he began to pull out his backpacking equipment. They said he did so minutes after getting home from your house.”

“He didn’t say a word to me about going camping,” Ali lied.

“Had you been up on the mountain that day? And the day before that?”

Ali hesitated. Several people in town knew she had tried to stop the loggers from cutting down the trees. It was possible Garten had spoken to some of them.

“I often hike in the woods,” she said evasively. “I can’t remember if I went those days or not.”

“You didn’t see anything in the woods that you might have shared with Karl? Something that might have inspired him to go hiking?”

Nothing except a few trolls, she thought. “No,” she said.

Garten sighed and put away his notepad. “You’re not being straight with me. I’ve already spoken to your friends, Steve Fender and Cindy Franken. They both admitted that they went hiking with you in the woods a month ago—
on
June sixth and seventh.”

“Really?” Ali began to feel uneasy. She had a lot on her mind, important things to do. She did not have time to get arrested, although she doubted there was a jail on Earth that could hold her. She added, “Did they say Karl was with us?”

“No. But I think he was. I think the three of you are hiding something.”

“I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about,” Ali said.

The cop remained stern. “I warn you that I have shared my suspicions with Karl’s parents. They’re pressuring local law enforcement—and the district attorney’s office—to take legal action against you three.”

He was exaggerating, Ali could tell.
He
was being pressured by Karl’s parents, and since the Tanners were the richest family in town, he was probably going out of his way to impress them. Tiny-town deputy was trying to get himself promoted to tiny-town sheriff. Ali let a faint smile show on her lips, but hardened her voice.

“I seriously doubt that,” she said. “Why would the district attorney be interested in us? You’re just fishing. You don’t have a shred of proof that we did anything wrong—with Karl, or anyone else for that matter.”

There was a power in her voice that caught him by surprise, a strength of will that came from deep inside, and he took a step back. But right then a loud sound, of breaking glass, came from her kitchen. The cop frowned and once more tried to peer past her.

“What was that?” he demanded.

“A friend.”

“I thought you said you were alone?”

“I never said that.” She started to close the door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have things to do.”

“Ali . . .”

“Thanks for stopping by, Officer Garten,” she said as she closed the door on his face. She hated to be rude but knew it was dangerous to keep talking to him. He was not dumb. The more she spoke, the more inconsistencies he would notice in her story. Best to keep it simple and vague, as she had done. She did not step away from the door until she heard him climb off her porch. A minute later his patrol car started, and he drove off. Only then did she turn toward the kitchen.

She found Paddy bent over the floor, trying to clean up the glass. He had broken a coffee mug that belonged to her father, but apparently he knew nothing about brooms and dustpans. He was trying to gather the shattered pieces together with his hands and an old newspaper. Glancing up as she entered the kitchen, the gold streaks in his big green eyes dimmed. He probably thought she was going to yell at him. They had known each other only a month, and he was incredibly sensitive to even a frown from her.

Of course, as queen of the fairies, he saw her as someone worthy of worship. He hastily straightened as she approached—nevertheless, she still towered above him. He couldn’t have been three feet tall.

“Didn’t mean to break it, Missy. Just fell from Paddy’s hands,” he said.

“It’s fine, I drop things all the time.”

“So sorry.” He asked nervously, “Did the constable hear me?”

“He heard you, but he didn’t see you. That’s all that matters.” Opening the closet door, she reached for the broom and dustpan. “Here, let me clean it up.”

He shook his heavy green head, or rather, his green
face
. Paddy had dark curly hair; although thick stranded, and completely uncombable, it looked almost normal. But his face, especially when he was not wearing five coats of makeup, was hard to mistake for a human face, although she had done just that when they had first met. Ali supposed her initial blindness had come from the fact that—prior to that memorable day—she had only met humans in her lifetime. . . .

At least when it came to creatures who talked.

Paddy’s untouched skin was not only green, it was
coarse
, as if it had been woven from the bark of trees and the salt of the earth. Yet there was a tenderness in his eyes, a desire to please, that she found endearing. For example, at present, he could not bear the thought of her bending down to clean up
his
mess.

“No, Missy, you should not be tending to the floors,” he said, trying to take the broom from her hand. She held it out of reach.

“Remember, I’m not a queen in this world, and I don’t want you treating me like one. I’m a thirteen-year-old girl, nothing more, nothing less. Now sit and relax. When I have cleaned up this mess, I’ll cook you something. What would you like?”

Her mention of food did wonders for his mood. Rubbing his palms together with relish, he hiked himself into a chair. “Could I have four hard-boiled eggs like you made me last week? Some toast and tea, and maybe a side of bacon and a few sausages? And butter if you have it, lots of butter, and sugar for the tea.”

Ali smiled. “Anything else?”

He considered, then his face lit up. “Perhaps some cookies, Missy?”

“I don’t know if I have any. I think you ate them all.”

“No problem then, Paddy will make due. No need for Missy to bake more.”

BOOK: The Shaktra
7.91Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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