The Yanti (10 page)

Sheri remained seated, appeared relaxed, but her smile faded as she gestured to the unconscious people around them. “Do you know why I arranged this circus?” she asked.

“To waste my time and energy,” Ali said.

“If that were the only reason, then my time and energy would also be wasted.”

Ali touched her warm chest, watched as her fairy sister followed her hand. The Yanti, she wanted the Yanti, Ali realized, but she could not take it, not by force. “What do you want, Doren?” Ali asked, for the first time using her sister’s fairy name.

“So you remember me. I was not sure you would.” She added, “Birth in these clumsy bodies is so often traumatic.”

“Was it for Lucy Pillar?” Ali asked.

Sheri went to snap, thought better of it, spoke casually. “I’m sure your visit to the green world brought back many memories, as well as old abilities. I’ve been told you managed to evacuate the remainder of the high fairies from Uleestar, and that you even dispensed with Radrine.” Sheri nodded to herself. “I thought you’d kill her, she had no manners.”

“Yet she served you.”

Sheri’s turn to shrug. “Radrine went where the power was. She saw that the war with humanity was inevitable. She just wanted to be on the winning side.”

Ali leaned forward. “There can be no winning side. Human beings and elementals are one and the same. That is the sacred truth, known only to the high fairies. Even the elves—even Lord Vak himself—doesn’t know that for sure. But you do—I remember your beliefs because we shared them. You act like you’ve become blind. You know you cannot destroy one without destroying the other.”

“So you think there’s no possible value in this war?”

“What could possibly be gained by wiping out both worlds?”

Sheri stared at Ali with her intense green eyes. Almost, Ali saw her as she had existed in the elemental world, where her sister had been the most fair of all the fairies—her beauty and proud bearing even greater than that of Queen Geea.

Yet, Ali knew, that had been the problem. Doren had been too proud of her power and her beauty. Their father had also known, and not approved. He had given the Yanti to her, Geea, to rule the land, and Doren had been bitter. She had raved against him, in private and publicly. She should be queen, she
told everyone. She was of the blue light, the oldest, the most powerful. It was her destiny to rule, she swore.

Doren had raved against him up until he had made his discoveries on the Isle of Greesh. Then, perhaps to assuage his daughter’s anger, he had invited Doren to explore what had been found; she had gone, eagerly, and left Geea behind. Ali recalled she had been too busy ruling her kingdom to go excavating. She had been spending precious time with her mother and . . .

No, that last part of her memory was distorted.

Her mother had already gone. Gone off to the yellow world.

To be born as a human being. Ali could not remember why.

Ali silently cursed her memory gaps. It was ironic that the one person who could fill them in sat only ten feet away. Unfortunately, this same person grinned as she spoke of destroying worlds. Doren must be as Trae—her high advisor—had described. Atop the highest kloudar, before she had healed him of life-threatening wounds, she had asked Trae the most crucial question of all . . .

Why does the Shaktra want this war?

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

Now, Sheri appeared to read her mind. “I have my reasons,” she said.

Ali placed her palm on the Yanti, near her heart, and allowed the heat to spread up her arm. “Explain them to me. Here and now. I’ll listen.”

Sheri was amused. “To do that I would need to know, for certain, that you would agree to accept my proposition. A proposition that might spare your life, and probably the lives of a few billion humans. Interested?”

Ali hardened her tone. “Maybe. But I can’t accept any
proposition without first knowing why you’ve changed into such a bloody beast.” She added, “Sister.”

Sheri lost her smile. “Watch your tongue, Geea. You don’t want to anger me.” She gestured to Cindy. “One thought and I can stop her heart.”

“One thought and I can restart it,” Ali replied, although she suspected it would be a mistake to go head-to-head against her sister—particularly after seeing the abilities she possessed. It was then Ali saw that the second hand on the clock had halted. Sheri had not merely put everyone to sleep—she had frozen time. And no being in the elemental world that she knew of—be they fairy, dwarf, elf, or dragon—had such skills. Whatever Doren had found on the Isle of Greesh had not just made her cruel, it had bestowed upon her unimaginable power.

Yet Sheri wanted to negotiate. She still needed her help. Why?

Sheri changed her approach, spoke in a reasonable voice. “You probably know by now that the elemental army—led by Lord Vak—has already surrendered to my counterpart’s army. As we speak, he’s moving his forces toward Mt. Tutor.” She paused. “I assume Radrine told you this? Before you killed her?”

“Yes.” In reality, Radrine had told her Lord Vak was
close
to surrender, but Ali sensed truth in her sister’s words. For now, the war in the green world was finished, and the good guys had lost. Sheri continued.

“Vak leads his army toward Tutor as a prelude to invading the Earth. That invasion can be neat and clean—relatively speaking—or it can be very messy. It all depends on what the two of us decide—right now.”

Ali shook her head. “Humanity will fight any type of invasion—to the bitter end. They’ll use every weapon they
have to drive off the elementals. It’s human nature—you should know that by now, having lived as one for so long.”

Sheri nodded. “True, Geea. But if you give me the Yanti, and unlock its power, the battle need not go on for weeks, or months, and ruin most of the Earth. In particular, nuclear weapons need not be used. The atmosphere doesn’t have to be poisoned with radiation. With the Yanti, I’ll be able to stop any missiles before they reach their targets.”

Ali snorted. “What you want is what Lord Vak demanded at the start. That I help the elementals take over the Earth.”

“No. I differ from Vak in that I desire balance. I intend to leave half of humanity alive, half the elementals. There is no need for total genocide.” Sheri added, “But I must be free to wield the Yanti, as I please, not you.”

“Because you don’t trust me?”

“Trust! For now, time has halted, but it could be stopped forever, and we could talk forever, and still neither of us would trust each other. Nothing is going to stop the invasion. However, if we work together, we can lessen the destruction.”

“You act like you want to help?
You’re
the one causing the whole mess!”

Sheri did not answer, just stared at her.

Ali growled. “Half the world dead? I can’t accept that.”

“Come Tuesday you will.” Sheri paused. “Where is the compassion Geea is so famous for? Let the war end quickly, and with the least loss of life. That’s best deal you can get at this point.”

“So this is just a deal to you?” Ali sneered.

“Yes. That’s exactly what it is.”

“The way you describe it, the green world is to be left empty?”

Sheri shrugged. “I have plans for it.”

“Such as?”

With contempt: “You wouldn’t understand.”

“At least tell me why you feel this war is necessary.”

“I can’t do that without revealing certain long-range goals we . . .I have.”

We?
Did Sheri have a partner? The woman was crafty—the slip might have been intentional. But perhaps she did have a partner, maybe even a
superior
. Ali had never considered the possibility before. Since swallowing an overdose of the fairy stardust atop the kloudar, and reclaiming many of her memories, Ali had seen her sister as someone who was desperate to rule, to have absolute control. The revelation of a
we
—if true—might alter her view of her sister, make her rethink much of what Hector had said about Lucy Pillar.

Ali acted like she had not noticed the slip. She gestured to the frozen clock. “It seems to me you have enough resources to do the job without my help. Why do you need the Yanti?”

Sheri was nonchalant. “It’s a powerful tool. Besides, it should have been mine. You must recall—before you brainwashed him with your constant whining—that Father was going to give it to me. You know as well as I do that it’s wasted in your hands.” She paused, shrugged. “You don’t even know how to use it as a weapon.”

Ali bluffed. “Sure of that? How do you think Radrine died?”

Sheri was not easy to bluff. Again, she just stared.

Ali continued. “What if I do decide to use it as a weapon, and fight on humanity’s side? I forced Lord Vak to retreat before. I can always force him back again.”

“Ha! Even if you somehow discovered how to reverse the Yanti and invoke the violet ray—which you can’t do, not without my help—it’ll make no difference. You were always a poor
leader because you could not bear to make strong decisions. Admit it, you’ll never unleash the violet ray and risk killing millions of fairies, dwarves, leprechauns, and elves—because they’ve chosen to fight for Vak. You won’t go against him. The elven king used to be the father of your lover, one of your best friends.” Sheri shook her head. “You’ve no choice, Geea. You have to accept my offer.”

“Just accept three billion deaths?”

“There’re too many people in this world as it is.”

“So you give Africa, Australia, and Asia to the elementals? The rest to humanity?”

Sheri smiled. “Something like that.”

“You’re lying. You keep bringing up memories of the green world, and yes, there is one thing I remember about Doren. She lied whenever it suited her.”

Sheri lost her smile, spoke in a deadly tone. “I warned you not to anger me.”

“Oh, I tremble in my shoes. What are you going to do,
mark
me like you did our mother?”

Sheri did not reply, but lowered her head.

Ali pressed on. “How did the fairy part of you feel? Putting your filthy thumb on her forehead, obliterating the last drop of who she was? Tell me, I really want to know, did you enjoy it?”

There was a long silence, but since time had appeared to have stopped, perhaps it was short. Yet it was dark inside the room, and in the darkness, Ali knew she had hit a button in her enemy. A painful button.

Finally, Sheri cleared her throat, spoke.

“We’re here to discuss the fate of this world. Who’s going to live. Who’s going to die. You don’t trust me, I accept that. You’ve already pointed out how I know of the link between
humanity and elementals. Why would I wipe out one side, over the other? Logically, it makes no sense.”

Reluctantly, Ali let the question of their mother go. “Nor does it make sense to drive the elementals from their rightful dimension. You have to explain why you’re trying to do that.”

Sheri spoke with sudden impatience. “I did. I tried.”

“When?”

“Before.”

Ali was suddenly alert. Sheri referred to their previous life together, as fairies. “When?” she repeated.

“When I invited you and Jira to the Isle of Greesh.”

The remark shook Ali. Unfortunately, her memories of the Isle of Greesh were sketchy. She’d had a horrific nightmare during her recent sojourn in the green world—while sleeping in Queen Geea’s bed, in the Crystal Palace at the center of Uleestar—about the island. In the dream, she had been trying to stop Jira from entering an archaeological site Doren had insisted they see.

The place had terrified her. For seemingly no reason.

Sheri sensed her confusion, continued, “You spent only a short time on the island. If I recall, it scared you, and had a devastating effect on Jira.” She casually added, “A pity the place upset him so much. Honestly, I never saw that kind of reaction before. The way he killed himself, I suppose he just didn’t have the stomach for—how should I put it?—major revelations.”

Ali sucked in an involuntary breath, felt a stab of pain in her heart that momentarily caused the Yanti to go cold. Ali had remembered that the archeological site on the Isle of Greesh had driven Jira insane. But she had
not
recalled him committing suicide . . .

Suddenly it all came back to her. The bloody images—bathed in the blue light of the elemental kingdom’s stationary
moon, Anglar—roared in her head. Jira stumbling to the edge of the balcony in Lord Vak’s castle. Screaming in a language neither of them had been taught. Her trying to stop him, to hold him . . .

Then, his unexpected jump, that long deadly leap, that she had not been able to stop, despite a mighty leap of her own. She could fly, he could not, and she had flown after him faster than she had ever flown before. Yet she’d been unable to prevent his head from smashing the boulders that rimmed the river, Tior, which ran beside Thorath, the elves’ mighty fortress.

Jira had died there, in her arms, at the foot of Lord Vak’s castle.

His last words had been very odd.

“Net . . . The . . . Enter.”

At least, that’s what she thought he said.

Lord Vak had come upon them minutes later. Just stood behind them.

Jira had been his only son.

How cruel it was of her sister to make light of such a matter. Ali felt the same bitterness she had experienced when Steve had died. Yet she hid her pain, not wanting to give Sheri the satisfaction. She mimicked Sheri’s casual tone as she changed the topic.

“Why did you give me Nira?” she asked.

Sheri snickered. “She makes a good little spy.”

“More lies. You know I won’t expose her to anything I don’t want you to see or hear.” Ali paused. “Know who’s watching her now?”

Sheri was silent a moment, her attention inward, then she scowled, spoke in an annoyed tone. “Why did you call him?”

“Why not? He’s her father, isn’t he?”

Sheri’s turn to suck in an agonizing breath. Ali had scored a
bull’s-eye, and had her theory finally confirmed—again. From the beginning, after viewing Cindy’s memories of her and Steve’s visits to Toule, the truth should have been obvious. First there had been the librarian’s remarks about Lucy Pillar: how bright and brilliant the girl had been; how devoted she had been to Hector, even after he had caused the accident that had cost her most of her skin. Then Hector had pointed out how Lucy had taken him deep inside the power plant, just before it blew, to a spot that just happened to be, miraculously, shielded from the blast.