The Shaktra (36 page)

Karl glanced at Rose, then suddenly relaxed his grip on the nanny. The change in his demeanor was drastic—he went from a psychopath to an easygoing thirteen-year-old in a heartbeat. Rose, too, appeared to relax quickly. Wiping the line of blood from her neck, she went so far as to smile, and Steve began to get a sick feeling deep inside. Especially when Rose stood taller, and the air around her changed, and the room grew cold.

Her voice, when she spoke next, was not her own.

“That is most unfortunate, that you have nothing left to say,” she said.

Steve stared, suddenly having trouble focusing on her face.
“Who
are you?”

In reply, Rose took a step closer, slowly removed her gloves,
and yes, she wore black gloves, as Ms. Smith wore white ones—a coincidence he should have paid more attention to from the start. He studied her hand as she brought it near, and the skin was Caucasian, not typical of many Colombian nannies. The fingers were long and graceful, the nails were painted a lovely red. For a second he could have sworn he was looking at Ms. Smith’s hand.

Then she touched him, brushed his chin, and her skin was like one hard scar.

Steve blinked. In between the instant his eyes closed, and opened, he saw it.

Her hand—a purple and red monstrosity. The disfigurement was total; the fingers looked as if they had been boiled in tar and bandaged with rags and left to heal in a desert. In that brief glimpse, he saw so much agony that he recoiled in the fear that it might enter his own body and drive him insane. That was the answer, of course, even though he was seeing only a piece of the puzzle. The burnt hand was insignificant. Her whole body had been roasted that night she and Hector had crashed into that tree.

He
was
looking at Lucy Pillar, Rose, Ms. Smith—they were all the same.

He could not stop looking at her. “You
are
the Shaktra,” he said.

Her face transformed into that of Ms. Smith.

“And you are dead,” she said sweetly.

The inner sounds had gone away and left her behind on a barren plain. The sky above her was the same as the ground below—gray and featureless. But in the emptiness she heard a distant roar that seemed a compilation of all the music and words she had ever heard in her life. The roar seemed to encompass every
thought
she had ever had, every desire she had ever dreamed, and she moved toward it with the hope that it sprung from a place of love and light. Yet the truth was, she did not know where she was going—only that she was lost. Why, she could not even remember her own name. . .

The plain disappeared, the roar became her mind, and it howled like the wind, and crashed like the waves of the ocean. And yet there was a silence in the center of it that was so perfect, so complete, that she was willing to be with the roar for eternity as long as she could stay near the stillness. How she craved it! Not because it could teach her things, or show her visions, or grant her powers. All it did was comfort, and that was all she wanted right then. . .

She did not know how long she stayed in that glorified state, listening to the roar and seeking the silence, but as she once
again became aware of time, she realized she had a body. It was in a cold place, where the air was thin, and there was misery all around—people hurt, elementals suffering. And oh how she hated to leave her newfound peace to attend to them, but it was as if the love she had discovered in the center, beyond the roar, told her to go back. Yes, Alosha, it is time to return and heal the pain of the worlds, and when you have, you can return. . . .

Ali opened her eyes atop the highest kloudar and looked out on the green world.

The sun would set in an hour, in both realms. She did not have much time.

Slowly, she climbed to her feet, taking stock of her body, her energy. There was no wound to her right hand—it had healed. Every cell in her body felt as if it were on fire, but it was a cool fire, one that could draw unlimited sustenance from the snow, and the air, and the stars, even from Anglar itself. Ali felt as if there was no power of Geea’s she could not command. . .

She was practically a fairy now. Queen of the fairies, with the strength to save her kingdom from the enemy. But did she have the wisdom to rescue them? The stardust had given her much, but Ali knew wisdom could not be gained by swallowing a powder. It was an issue she would have to worry about later.

Ali stepped to Drash, who still had one eye open, put her hands on his head, and let her field expand out to such a distance that she might have been able to heal an army of dragons. Then she focused on her friend, and the warm light that pulsed through her was as blue as it was green. There was yellow, too, bright as the sun above the Earth, and she felt a part of both worlds, and even a kinship with Anglar, where the ice maidens came and went as they pleased. To heal the dragon required only a fraction of her immense power, and yet she would have given
her life for him. That was the deep secret of Geea’s healing—her empathy.

Drash opened both eyes two minutes later, noticed his wing was restored. A tear slipped over his burning nostrils, before turning to steam. “You are the one,” he said.

She patted him on the head. “You are the next king of the dragons.”

Ali healed Ra and Trae in quick succession, and they sat up together and huddled in the cave beside Amma, and Drash was close when she kneeled beside her fairy mother and put a hand on her head and one on her heart and called upon the light and grace that flowed through her body. But even her tremendous power rebounded as it hit a thin halo of darkness that Ali could now see encased Amma’s head. Crushed, she sat back on her knees, staring at Amma’s dazed expression, and her tears were no different than the ones she had shed when she had found her mother marked. Her newfound power had changed many things, but not that.

“Keep trying,” Ra said. “You can do it.”

Shaking her head, Ali stood, stared down at Amma. “She is beyond my help. . .for now,” she said.

Ra jumped up. “You don’t know that for sure.”

She looked at him. “I know.”

Ra searched her eyes, worried. “What are you going to do?”

She spoke to Trae. “Drash will fly the three of you to the secret stronghold. Go there now, take care of Amma. I’ll come when I can.”

“You don’t know where it is,” Ra protested.

Ali nodded. “I remember.”

Trae stood, spoke hesitantly. “Since Amma is marked, it might not be a good idea to take her there. The Shaktra might find us through her.”

Ali shook her head. “You’re not to abandon her.”

“I was not suggesting that. But I must think of the others.”

Ali studied her mother. “Even marked, she will not betray us to the Shaktra. Take her to the stronghold, that is an order.” She added, reluctantly, “Blindfold her, put wax in her ears.”

Trae bowed low. “As you wish, Geea.”

Ali turned toward the snow, the sky. “I have to go now.”

Ra grabbed her arm. “Where are you going?”

She tried to get past him. “My friends on Earth are in danger.”

Ra would not let go of her. “You don’t know how to fly!”

She reached out and hugged him, kissed his cheek. “I’ll learn,” she said.

Ali strode from the cave, patted Drash goodbye, and then ran toward the rim of the kloudar, the icy edge, and as the snow and ice and rock vanished from beneath her feet, she began to fall. However, her magnetic field quickly formed a bubble around her, without any doing on her part, and it was filled with green steam and red streaks of light. It warmed her limbs, and allowed her to see far off, and it lifted her up. She saw that she had merely to will the direction she wished to take and the bubble would obey. Tutor called to her, the southern mountain, and the seven doors, and just the thought of it was enough to send her racing toward the rocky peak.

Yet the bubble was not a hard shell. Air blew on her face, the wind was in her hair, and the sheer joy of flying through the Youli Mountains, over Uleestar, and along the long stretch of Lestre, was almost enough to make her forget her grief, at least for a time. Unfortunately, she knew that at the end of her first flight there was going to be violence. Either she was going to die, or
they
were going to die. There would be no mercy from her, not after what they had done to Amma. . . .

__________

As she reached the cave opening, high on Tutor, she was ambushed by a dozen dark fairies who had hidden behind the boulders surrounding the entrance. But the attack was ineffective because she knew it was coming and had adjusted her field to repel their bolts of fire. With a smile on her face, floating fifty feet above the cave, she watched as the laser blasts bounced harmlessly off an invisible area in front of her chest.

She did not have her fire stones, she did not need them. Recalling an old Geea trick—that had been secret even when Geea had ruled the kingdom openly—Ali took a deep breath and blew forcibly on her palms. Then she smacked them together as hard as she could. The technique created a powerful sonic wave that her own field protected her from. It sent off a swell of highly compressed air, as an exploding bomb might, and when it hit the dark fairies, they were torn apart. In seconds their guts laid strewn over the side of Tutor.

Still floating in her protective bubble, Ali entered the cave. Radrine had not died with her servants just now, but Ali could sense her up ahead, racing toward the red door, and what the evil queen thought was safety. But Ali had locked that door with the Yanti.

It was not going to open for the dark fairy.

The trip down the length of the cave took only minutes. Her bubble automatically spared her from bumping the sides, and she was able to push her speed close to the level she had enjoyed in the green sky. The yellow door was open, as she had left it, and the red door was closed.

Ali could smell Radrine now as well as mentally follow her movements. The evil queen was now on the Earth plane—she had chosen to take the cave upward, toward the top of Pete’s
Peak, the same route her friends had used a month ago. It was probable Radrine had heard the killing sonic wave and was running in fear. Ali went after her.

Yet she slowed as she passed the six caves that led to other parts of the world, reaching out with her subtle senses, and her nose, to see if Radrine had sought refuge in such places. But it seemed Radrine was flying in one direction as fast as she could. Ali pushed on ahead.

She discovered Radrine in the snow, in the shade, twenty feet outside the cave.

An orange sun burned on the horizon, the air was crisp and cool and clear, and the view of the woods, and for that matter all the surrounding towns, was unobstructed. Why, she could even see Toule.

Ali took a step toward Radrine, noticed how careful the dark fairy was not to step into the direct sunlight. It made her wonder if the evil queen could withstand it. The last time they had fought, beside the doors, Ali had assumed Radrine had flown back down to the cave entrance, and circled around to the top exit, and she still believed that. But just before she and her friends had entered the cave, heavy clouds had begun to blow in from over the ocean. They must have covered Pete’s Peak.

But today there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

Radrine raised her fire stones and shot at her, a dozen times.

The laser blasts bounced off. Dejected, Radrine lowered her weapons.

No, she was much more than dejected. Her rotting wings shook and the nest of maggots-for-brains squirmed inside her translucent skull. She was so scared that she had no control over her long black tongue. It repeatedly licked her lips as her breath hissed between her yellow teeth. Ali enjoyed watching her cower.

“We can talk about this, Geea,” Radrine said quickly.

Ali smiled, came closer. “What could
we
have to talk about?”

Radrine backed up a step. “I have information.”

“What kind of information?”

“I was just in the east, near the Morray Mountains.”

“You were just above the Youli Mountains. You’re the one who shot my adviser, Trae. He’s alive by the way, doing fine. He sends his regards.”

“I know how the war goes in the east.”

“Tell me.”

“You must promise my life in exchange.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“You must swear it, Geea!”

Ali chuckled. “What is the point of swearing to one such as you? A spawn of hell? You die here, Radrine, and I suspect you will return to behind the red door. You will be sent back bodiless, as a thrall, and you will burn in those fires I saw beneath your hive. Is that not so?”

Radrine retreated to within inches of where the sun shone on the white snow.

“My information is valuable to you!” she cried. “Say we have a deal!”

Ali shrugged. “Whatever. Speak.”

“The elemental army is pinned against the Morray Mountains. Lord Vak is already seeking to negotiate a surrender with the Shaktra.”

“What are the terms of the surrender?” Ali demanded.

“To be spared, the elementals must agree to march west toward Tutor starting in three days, and pass through the yellow door, and invade the Earth.”

Ali considered. “I already knew most of that.”

“You lie! Lord Vak just agreed to surrender!”

Ali walked casually toward her. “You do not ingratiate yourself to me, Radrine, by calling me a liar. Especially since your entire life has been a lie. It makes me think that
you
think we are alike.”

Radrine glanced over her shoulder—no room left to maneuver. The dark fairy bowed her head. “We are not alike. You are a queen, I am your servant.”

Ali suddenly leapt, grabbed her by her scaly throat. “You serve the Shaktra!”

Radrine shook in her arms, her filthy red eyes swelling. “We have a deal!”

“What deal? I would never deal with you! Tell me, where is the Shaktra now?”

“I don’t know!”

Ali lifted her up so that the top of her egg-shaped skull brushed the last light of the day. Immediately the dark fairy’s skin began to smoke, and Radrine let out a pitiful cry. Ali felt no pity.