The Shaktra (22 page)

“Paddy’s smarter than he looks. And this is his world, after all.”

Ali felt frustrated. What Ra was saying made sense, but to simply abandon the girl felt so cold. And what about the others who had just passed by? She did not have enough rope to bind them all. Yet, if she let them be, the scabs would have their brains for dinner before the sun went down.

Standing, she handed the girl over to Ra. “There’s rope in my backpack. I left it behind the bushes. Tie her to a tree around there, make sure she’s sitting down, that the spot is comfortable, and that she can’t break free.”

“Where are you going?” Ra asked.

Ali nodded toward the way they had come. “I’m going to disable the others.”

Ra called after her. “A lot of times, being a leader means knowing when
not
to do something.”

Ali snapped back. “Just take care of the girl!”

The marked fairies moved slowly. It took her only a few minutes to catch up with them. For a time she walked beside them, trying to talk to them, but it was hopeless. She could force one to stop, but the others would continue on without pause.

She discovered she was trembling. She could not bear to step on an insect, and now she was being asked to break the poor fairies’ legs. Of course, no one was really asking her, it was the situation.

Best to get it over with quick, she thought.

Picking up a grapefruit-sized stone, she threw it at the leader’s calf. Threw it hard—the bone made a distinct popping sound as it snapped, and the guy went down, and the others walked around him. Then the guy started crawling, using his arms for traction, and Ali felt as if she might vomit.

She picked up another stone, went to throw it at another fairy, but her trembling practically changed into a convulsion. She started shaking all over and couldn’t stop. The pain in her right hand soared, and the rock fell from her left hand as tears burned her eyes. Ra’s words returned to haunt her.

“A lot of times, being a leader means knowing when
not
to do something.”

“But he’s wrong, if I do nothing they’ll suffer more,” she told herself.

The truth was . . . she did not know if that was true. To leave a dozen fairies in the wild with a mass of broken limbs was an intolerable idea. To allow them to be changed into scaliis was equally unbearable. The paradox hit Ali hard, as she imagined it must hit all leaders at one time or another. She could not do the right thing because the situation was too horrible for any choice to be right.

In the end, she saw she did not have the stomach to injure any more of the fairies, and she lowered her head and turned away. However, she made a vow to herself: to return to this area as soon as possible, when she knew more about the Shaktra’s curse, and help as many of the marked fairies as possible.

When she caught up with her friends, she did not even go over to see how the girl was doing. Ra assured her she was as comfortable as he could make her, and they started hiking north again.

The path curved slightly to the west, and for a time they saw
the ocean again. The beach was no longer flat sand, but steep rocks and cliffs, and they were forced to stay on the path, which eventually led them further inland. Close to sunset, they began to give serious thought as to where they should camp, but as the sky started to darken, they found themselves at the end of a long narrow gully. Here there were no trees, few bushes, and long shadows. Ali did not like the look of the area, yet the path ran through it.

“Have you been here before?” Ali asked Paddy.

“Aye. Pa took me here a long time ago.” The leprechaun sniffed the air. “Had a sweeter odor then.”

Ali understood. Although she could see no carcasses, the gully smelled of spoiled meat. Worse, it looked like a perfect place to get ambushed in. She shared her concerns with Ra.

“We could try circling around,” he said, studying the top edges of the gully. The rock and gravel were loose, the walls steep. Once inside, it would be difficult to get out.

“We don’t know the land,” Ali said. “We could get lost.”

“We can backtrack, camp near that stream we passed a half hour ago,” Ra said.

The gully was silent, protected from even the faint noise of the evening breeze, but she sensed a watchfulness inside, a haunted hunger. “I would prefer to camp on the other side of this place. Have it behind us,” Ali said.

Ra nodded. “There is a creepy vibe here.”

Ali smiled. “You said ‘vibe.’ That’s cute.”

“I know all kinds of
cute
American words.”

Another decision to be made. Ali felt exhausted by how quickly they kept piling up on her. The day had been forever, the dangers unimaginable, and now her right hand throbbed again. Trying to stretch out her field, and see around the boulders and through the shadows, she found her subtle psychic energies
drained. She saw nothing, but worried if they were attacked in the gully—by scaliis or dark fairies—she wouldn’t have the strength to defend her friends.

Yet the urge to go forward was on her. She told the others as much.

“Let’s get through it as fast as we can,” she said. “Stay alert, and no talking.”

There was a major flaw in her plan, and if she had considered it longer, she might have chosen differently. The gully curved as they hiked through it, both to the right and the left, and as a result, she could not see the end of it. Paddy’s memory was of no help. She did not know if the ravine was one mile long, or ten. The latter was a scary thought. She absolutely did not want to camp in the gully. The farther they walked, and the darker it got, the stronger the foul odor grew. She could not be sure—so deep in the ravine—but she feared the sun had already set.

They were two miles into the gully when the attack came.

Never in her dreams could Ali have imagined she could have been caught so off-guard. When the scaliis raised their grotesque heads from behind the rocky crevasses—and there were dozens of heads—she had to ask herself why they had not shown up on her mental radar. She was tired and injured, true, but those were not excuses. The only explanation was that these creatures were psychically
shielded
, probably by the Shaktra itself. Whatever, they were surrounded on all sides!

“Scaliis!” Paddy cried, grabbing ahold of her leg. Gently, Ali made him release her and turned to Ra. Paddy went from hugging her to holding on to Farble, who had begun to groan pitifully.

“Any ideas?” she asked.

Ra drew out his bow and arrows. “There’s fewer of them up ahead. Let’s fight our way through. There’s no point in going back.” He added, “How much power do you have left?”

She shook her head. “Not enough. Make every arrow count.”

Ra nodded. “These creatures should be easier to hit.”

A hopeful remark. As the scaliis came scurrying into the gully, Ali noticed several disturbing physical characteristics. They did not move like the zombie-fairies they had met on the path. Their strides were rapid and purposeful, and their feet were stringy masses of gelatin—similar to pink tentacles—and they were able to navigate the incline without falling, almost like spiders. Their red hands appeared hard and sharp, like crab claws that could cut stone; and they were naked, their bodies were of all sizes and shapes. Ali realized she was staring at scaliis that had been made from fairies and leprechauns, as well as elves and dwarves. Indeed, she thought, she was looking at the worst nightmare the Shaktra could have unleashed on the elemental kingdom. The Shaktra had changed friends and foes alike into monsters.

The worst horror was their heads. The scaliis had only one eye; it floated where the mouth should be, dark and bulbous, a fish lens taken out of an ocean depth that had never seen a sun. Above it, where the eyes should have been, was a single wide mouth, devoid of lips, mounted with rows of razor-sharp teeth, and oozing red and blue fluid. The creatures’ claws kept clicking; their mouths drooled as the scalii platoon drew closer.

As Ali took out her fire stones, Ra asked if he should open fire. Before answering, Ali spoke to Paddy. “Where are they most vulnerable?” she asked.

Although terrified, he managed to speak. “They have no brains left in their heads, Missy. Just eyes and teeth.”

She nodded to Ra. “Aim for their chests. Their hearts are probably still intact.”

Ali did not know exactly how many arrows Ra had brought,
but when he started shooting, she saw he was as effective as an expert rifleman. He did not pause between shots to aim and he did not miss. Each arrow struck a scalii chest and, soundlessly, the creatures would sit down and remain still. Not a single one cried out in pain, and Ali wondered if they were happy to die, to have the pain stop.

Yet she felt pain in her right hand as she raised the fire stones and took aim. Power moved through her arm, and she felt her psychic field expand to perhaps five times the size of her body, but both sensations were erratic, weak. Her first few fiery bolts took down a handful of scaliis, but the penalty was a nauseating wave of dizziness. She almost fell over. On top of everything else she could not stand still and shoot. She had to keep Farble and Paddy going forward, because Ra was right, there were fewer creatures in front of them.

“We’re going to get out of this!” she shouted.

For a time, it looked like that might be the case. The scaliis had no weapons. They did not even bother to pick up and throw rocks at them. Pushing aside her dizziness, Ali managed to keep firing, while Ra was taking down a foe every ten seconds. The scaliis understood they were losing big numbers. Right in front of Ali, the creatures’ ranks began to split, to spread up the walls of the gully, seemingly trying to get out of their way. Ali took the opportunity to press the others to greater speed.

“Let’s make a run for it!” she yelled.

They broke through the front, and for a moment they were no longer surrounded. The way before them was clear, and the walls of the gully began to lower, to flatten, as if the wretched area might soon come to an end. But behind them the platoon of scaliis was changing into a division. The creatures swelled like a herd of red ants. They did not pick up their speed, but they did
not slow their approach, either. Ra and Ali kept shooting at them, but if they killed a dozen a minute, it made no difference—there were three dozen to take their place.

Finally, Ali gestured for the others to stop.

“I have to try the flame,” she gasped.

Ra shook his head. “That almost killed you last time.”

Ali searched in her backpack for her lighter. “We have no choice. Stop shooting and take Farble and Paddy and make a run for it. I’m going to make a stand here.”

“We’re not going to leave you,” Ra said.

“That’s an order!” she snapped, finally finding the lighter. “And I told you before we came here that I would be giving the orders! Now get out of here while you still can!”

It was Paddy who stepped forward right then. The leprechaun’s wide face dripped yellow sweat and his green eyes were swollen with fright. Yet he reached out and patted her arm. “None of us is going to leave you, Missy,” he said.

Ali stared at him, touched, then looked at the approaching mass of scaliis, which could not have been more than fifty yards away. Bidding her friends to take shelter behind a nearby boulder, she went down on her knees and held up the Bic lighter and strained to focus on the tiny flame. Yet she felt weak and her lungs ached. It hurt to breathe, and she knew she was not going to be able to tap into the power that had overcome her when the scabs had attacked. At best she might frighten off the scaliis for a few minutes. But since they did not have brains, they would probably come right back.

Ali went to blow, then stopped, frowned.

A slithering black shape suddenly appeared atop the right side of the gully. It was massive, a thick worm over a hundred feet long. She assumed it was an ally of the scaliis, but they did not look happy to see it. The huge snake emitted a low roar
rather than a hiss and then it was moving fast, sliding down the loose walls of the endless gully, right into the midst of the scaliis. Its size was its weapon. The scaliis tried jumping on it, cutting into it with their claws, spreading out their tentacles, but the creature flopped vigorously, from side to side, showing breathtaking agility, and its sheer mass crushed dozens.

Yet the scaliis did not run, and by now there were hundreds of them, swarming over the creature, and Ali was uncertain who was going to win the contest. Nevertheless, the sight of the snake coming to their aid—she could only assume it was trying to help—gave an unexpected boost to her power. Once more raising the lighter’s tiny flame, she felt a current rush through her arm, and she blew as hard as she could. Fire roared forth—a flame that did not burn the snake, but one which swept over it, and pushed back the bulk of the attacking scaliis.

The reprieve was all the huge snake required. Crushing the remaining scaliis that clung to its scaly hide, it threw off the monsters and slithered toward them, pausing a few feet in front of Ali and raising its smooth black head. She was not sure if it was a snake or a lizard, or even a giant worm. But its huge red eyes, she could see, were deep and clear, and it spoke to her in a heavy, low, but still powerful voice.

“Come with me if you wish to live,” it said.

Ali took a step back, intimidated by its size. The others looked ready to run.

“Who are you? Why are you helping us?” she asked.

“Drash.” He added, “Drash helps because he wants to help.” Paddy grabbed her good hand, anxious. “Do not listen to it, Missy! This is a koul. It’s very dangerous.”

“Then why is it defending us from the scaliis?” she asked.

“It wants to be the one to eat us!” Paddy cried.

Ali turned back to Drash. “Where are you going to take us?”

“A place, not far from here.” Tossing its huge head in the direction of the smoking scaliis, it said, “You must decide quick.”

“Will you harm us in any way?” Ali asked.

“Drash will not harm,” he replied.

“How will you take us to this place?”

“Drash will take you on his back.”