The Yanti (21 page)

She shook as she studied him, and his own trembling only grew worse. “Is that true? I think you might know something I don’t know. Something you’re afraid to tell me. You’re special, Ra. The moment I met you, I knew that was true.”

“I felt the same about you, Ali.”

“What did you feel?” She really wanted to know.

There was blood in Ra’s face. It burned, but not all burns were evil. This one, he thought, might even be illuminating.
He stammered as he tried to speak. “I felt you were wonderful. I still do. Every time I’m near you . . . it’s a wonder.”

Ali gestured to her face. “Even this way?”

“Yes,” he said firmly. “Your looks don’t matter. This feeling . . . I’ve never had it before. It goes beyond skin-deep. I feel as if it could . . .” He was unable to complete the sentence. She had to prod him, and then the words were there, the right words. “I feel as if it goes beyond time. Do you know what I mean?”

She tried to chuckle. The sound came out as a painful rasp.

“Are you saying you like me?”

“No, Ali. It’s much deeper than liking.”

She saw how serious he was, got serious herself. She drew close to him, put what was left of her mouth near his ear. She whispered to him then, and it was strange, but her voice suddenly sounded perfectly normal. Ra began to doubt that she was speaking at all, but was placing the words directly into his mind.

“I don’t know everything, Ra. I’m not sure if either of us was meant to know. But when I met you, and had that burnt hand, and you took care of it, and touched me, I felt as if my other half touched me. I felt Jira, and I did not even know who Jira was at that time. Maybe you are him, come back to me, from beyond time, as you say. I pray that you are, because I loved him more than I loved anything. But I lost him when I took him to the Isle of Greesh, and I know now that the pain of that loss was a part of the reason I chose to be born as a human. When he died, I knew he might be reborn on Earth, and I wanted to find him, to love him again. And if you are him, you have to understand that I cannot lose you again. You have to remain with the others, and let me take this journey alone.”

Her mouth was closed. He had not seen her open it.

Ra leaned over and kissed her on the side of the head.

“What you’re saying is true, I feel it. I’m an elf, I’m an elven
prince, and you’re my companion. You’re wise and you’re powerful. Only this time, Geea, you just happen to be wrong. You can’t go to the Isle of Greesh without me.”

Stubborn, Ali shook her head. “No.”

Ra took her chin, forced her to stare at him. “You were afraid the last time you went there, I remember. That fear will return when you return there. The only way to conquer it is to have me near.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Because only one thing can overcome fear.”

Ali went to speak, then leaned near him again.

“Are you telling me you love me?” she asked.

He put an arm around her. “Well, Ali, I’m not afraid of you.”

For some reason, that seemed to do the trick for her.

Ali, Ra, and Drash were going to the Isle of Greesh. They prayed the past had given them a gift—by bringing them together again. Yet they also hoped that the past did not repeat itself.

F
or Ali, there was great pain, great fear, and great love, and she asked herself if the first two were worth the last, and the answer was yes. Her body was probably scarred beyond repair, and they were flying toward the source of the greatest evil in all the worlds. Yet she had Ra to hold on to, and that was good.

Of course, he was right about being Jira. A part of her had always known the truth. She had just been afraid to admit it to herself. Even Amma had tried to tell her, before she had been marked by the Shaktra.

In the Crystal Palace, Amma had studied the gauze on her burnt hand, and had said,
“Ra bandaged this for you.”

“How did you know?”

“He likes to take care of you, I see it.”

“I only met him two days ago. He hardly knows me.”

Amma had smiled then.
“It is something to wonder about.”

On top of the Youli Mountains, before flying to the kloudar, Ra had insisted on going with them. Afraid of the lack of air, Ali had warned him to go back down, but he had said:
“I go where you go.”

And again Amma had smiled and said,
“Jira used to say that.”

So her mother had known and approved of Ra. It made Ali wonder how many more secrets her mom could tell her. If only the mark could be removed, and her mind freed. That was one secret Ali vowed to wrestle from the Isle of Greesh before she left it. She was going to liberate Amma and Nira both. The green world, and Earth, needed their help now.

Ra called over his shoulder as they rode Drash toward the mysterious island, the wind hard and fast in their faces. “Feel like you’re on the back of a motorcycle?”

“I’ve never ridden one. Have you?” she asked.

“There’s one in our village. But it goes thirty kilometers an hour—downhill.”

“Is that only twenty miles an hour?”

“Yes.”

“I got to go home at least. You haven’t. Do you miss it?”

“I’m at home when I’m with you,” Ra said.

Touched by his remark, Ali held him tighter.

“Drash wants to know if the humans are going to marry now?” the dragon asked.

They both laughed, and Ali spoke. “Drash may be the new king of the dragons, but he’s not allowed to ask the queen of the fairies and the prince of the elves personal questions.”

A note of wonder entered Drash’s voice.

“True. Drash is now king of the dragons.”

Ali wished she could rub his side like she used to, but her hands hurt too much. “Do you forgive me for killing your father?” she asked.

“Drash knew Father had to die the day he started killing others.” The dragon paused. “Did Kashar ask about Drash?”

“Your name came up. I told him you were a full-fledged dragon.”

“What did Kashar say?”

Ali hesitated. “I think he was impressed.”

Drash appeared to guess the truth. “But Kashar would not give up the Shaktra, even for his son.”

“I’m sorry,” was all Ali could think to say.

The Isle of Greesh, as they came near, resembled Maui, a Hawaiian island Ali had visited with her parents. The land was definitely tropical. There were coral reefs in the green water, and many trees hung with various colored fruits. But Ali did not see nor hear any birds as they swooped near. She sensed no insects either. There was plenty of plant life, but that appeared to be all.

On the flight over, Ali had planned to have Drash stand guard at the hill that contained the mysterious chamber that had drawn Doren and her father to the island, but already she knew that was unnecessary. Her subtle senses were at full alert. The Shaktra had left the island empty. There was not even a scab buried somewhere in the sand, she was sure of it. Yet the island was supposed to be her enemy’s home base. Ali found the tactic curious.

Had something on the island ordered them all to leave?

The island was built around a single steep hill. At first glance it looked as if it were the remains of a volcano, possibly the original volcano that had caused the island to rise from the ocean floor.

A closer examination made her question the theory. The hill was too steep, and there was a symmetrical quality to it that hinted at unnaturalness, although it was covered with trees and flowers and bushes like the rest of the land. Ali was only able to remember fragments about the island from two sources—one, the dream she had of Greesh on her last visit to the green world; and two, her actual memories from her past
life as Geea. It was difficult to say which source of information was more accurate. Both were chilling.

Jira was excited to be on the island, and to see the ancient ruins the others had spoken of. But for Geea, as they slowly descended the long shaft that led deep into the island’s solid underbelly, she felt only dread. Jira knew of her intuition, and usually respected it, but today he brushed off her concerns
.

“This is the discovery of our time,” he said, as the creaking elevator slowly lowered them into the heart of Greesh’s only peak
.

Geea pointed to the black walls of the shaft. “The ground here is hard. There’s an exceptional amount of iron in it. What does that tell you?”

“That this peak was once volcanic?” Jira said
.

“Whatever volcano existed here, that was millions of years ago, when the island formed. This iron did not come out of the ground. It came from the sky.”

“Is that a joke?”

“No.” She tapped the dark wall of the shaft. “A large meteor must have crashed here long ago. The hill at the center of this island is built on top of it.”

“That’s only a theory of yours. The meteor would have incinerated itself when it hit here.”

“But it didn’t. Nor did it incinerate what Doren has discovered. So maybe it did not crash-land here. Maybe it landed gently.”

“Are you suggesting your sister’s discovery is from . . . elsewhere?”

“Yes.”

Jira laughed. “You have an imagination, Geea, I grant you that.”

When they reached the hidden chamber in the heart of the hill, Jira went inside alone . . . because she was too fearful to follow. Not long afterward he began to scream, and from then on he was insane. It was only in the last moments of his life, when he was lying in her arms and gushing blood from his long fall, that his eyes had seemed to clear. It was then he had said those three strange words.
“Net . . . The . . . Enter . . .”

Ali instructed Drash to land at the top of the hill. Climbing off the dragon, they found a crude elevator—a simple cube made of wood, and supported by rope. It would have to be lowered manually. Drash said he could do it. Ali took a look at his arms and hands—not a dragon’s strongest point. In that respect, he looked a bit like a T-Rex. Ra seemed to read her mind, although neither of them wanted to hurt his feelings.

“Are you sure you can handle the weight?” Ra asked carefully.

In response, Drash walked over to a boulder, casually picked it up, and shattered it between his relatively small hands. “Drash can handle you two,” he replied dryly.

They got in the elevator, closed the door. Drash worked the wooden wheel that let out the rope that attached to the elevator roof. Slowly the sky began to change into a small square, as they descended deeper and deeper. Ra had brought his pack, took out a flashlight and turned it on. Soon it was their only source of illumination, although Ali did not need it to see, for she could see even in total darkness. But she didn’t tell Ra that—didn’t want to stir up the ancient rivalry. Who was more powerful: an elf or a fairy? Of course, Ali knew the fairies were, and naturally Ra would think the reverse. Since it was not an argument that could be won, there was no point in starting it . . .

Ali remembered more of what she had told Jira when they were last here.

“This place does not feel good. Many people lived here once, but when they died, it was not in a natural way.”

“What do you mean?”

“This place is alive with pain, but it is the pain of the dead. Right here, long ago—I think many people killed themselves.”

“That’s impossible, no one would do that.”

“Look at what is happening in the yellow world and tell me that is impossible.”

Again, Jira had laughed at her fears.

Yet, today, Ali saw Ra was not laughing.

She saw his fear and was glad. Because when they reached the bottom of the shaft, they would come to a narrow cave dusted with black soot, that would lead to a massive stone door that opened into what was said to be a temple filled with
“amazing artifacts that the highest elemental magic could not reproduce.”
The latter remark belonged to Doren. It had been her sister who had lured them down here.

Now Ali welcomed Ra’s growing anxiety because she did not want him to enter the temple again. He was an elven prince, it was true, he had many gifts, but he did not have nearly her power. He knew nothing of her connection to the blue light, which might be the only shield that could save her. Furthermore, she had only one Yanti, and she would need it to shield herself from whatever had driven Jira insane. Ra could not come, he would just get in her way.