The Yanti (44 page)

Sheri gave her a look to kill. “What do you know? You weren’t even there.”

Ali nodded. “No. I wasn’t there. That’s why he died. I was a couple of minutes late. But the guy who stabbed Steve’s heart—he worked for you. I’m surprised you’re afraid to admit
it. That’s a change. You usually love to boast about your cruelties. But I suppose that technique doesn’t work so well in front of the one man you still love.”

Sheri glared at her. “Who says I love anyone?”

“If that’s true, why did you have Nira?” Hector asked.

Sheri whirled on him, to scream, to shout, whatever. But then she stopped, and it was as if all the hate in her expression fell to the floor. “Nira,” she whispered. “Nira was an accident.”

Hector didn’t believe her, nor did Ali. “If she had been an accident, you wouldn’t have kept her,” he said.

There was a long pause. The clock ticked. The one inside the bomb. Ali had no idea how much time they had left. She assumed they were safe, for now, because Sheri did not act in a hurry to leave. But maybe that was a dangerous assumption. It was clear the woman was not operating with a full deck of cards. Sheri shook her head, spoke in a mocking tone.

“This is crazy—talking about these things right now. Our personal problems pale when compared to what’s going to happen to the world in the coming days. A new order is taking over, and it’s simple—you’re either for it or you’re against it. If you’re against it, you’re going to die.”

“Then I’ll die. I’m against it,” Hector said.

Sheri stared at him like he was a fool. “You don’t even know what you’re rejecting! Listen to me, Hector, the things . . .”

“I’m rejecting you!” he interrupted. “What you’ve become. Ali told me you were a murderer, and you know what? I didn’t believe it, not until this moment. Pretty stupid, huh? You’re sitting on top of a nuclear bomb and I’m still thinking, but you’re Lucy Pillar—the kind-hearted girl I used to love. Lucy wouldn’t hurt a soul. Well, I was wrong and Ali was right. The way I feel right now, I wish you had died the night of the power plant explosion.”

Sheri forced a vicious smile. “I love how you stand there and
judge me for the sins you think I’ve committed. Let me tell you something. Ever since you ran your truck into that tree and I burned, I’ve had to make a thousand hard choices. Not one of them has been easy!”

“Lucy . . .” Hector began. But she cut him off.

“Or have you forgotten about that day? How many beers you had that afternoon?”

“That was an accident,” Hector said.

Ali interrupted. “It was no accident. When I saw the Entity, it admitted that it programmed Hector to smash his truck into that tree in that precise manner. It used the Internet to program him. So that you would burn, Doren. So that it would have that lever over you.”

Sheri went to snap at her, then stopped. “Is that true?”

Ali nodded. “You can hear the truth when it’s spoken.”

Hector was shocked. “That was not an accident?”

“Nothing that’s led up to this moment has been an accident,” Ali said. “Another thing, Doren. When I was with the Entity, they offered me your job. They’re going to kill you the second they don’t need you. Which will probably be ten seconds after this bomb goes off.”

Sheri shook her head. “I’m to rule this world!”

“The Entity does not create rulers. You of all people should know that. It only creates thralls.”

“You just want to take over! You’ll use the Yanti to . . .”

“I gave the Yanti away,” Ali interrupted. “Remember?”

Sheri froze. “You really gave it to Nira?”

“Yes.”

“Why would you give up so much power?”

“It doesn’t belong to me, or to you. It belongs in the hands of a goddess.” Ali added, “At least that’s one wonderful thing your love for Hector brought into the world.”

Sadly, Sheri was too caught up in her thoughts of power and betrayal. Her sister couldn’t hear her. She couldn’t talk about Nira. Her mind was trapped in the pain of her past.

“I came out of the blue light,” Doren muttered. “The Yanti should have been mine. Father should have given it to me, I was the oldest. The palace, too, it all should have been mine. And then, when I got burned, there was no one there to help me. No one there to heal me . . .”

Ali felt a profound anguish at what she had to tell her next. Because it went way beyond life and death, or who was to be king and queen. It dealt with her sister’s soul.

“Doren. The Entity has lied to you about something that is more important than this bomb and this war and everything else we’re talking about. This time, when you die—and I assure you they’ll murder you soon—the ice maidens will not come for you. You’ll not return to the love of the blue light. You’ll go to the Entity. You’ll become one of them, and you’ll be trapped in that evil realm forever. No one knows better than you the horror they’re capable of. Think, Doren, remember what they did to Tulas. Look at Hector, right now, and remember Tulas. Please! Remember what they did to him!”

The expression on Sheri’s face altered. But it did not shift toward reason as Ali had hoped. In that moment, Ali saw she had gone too far. Pushed buttons so painful, and so deeply buried, that merely to draw near them was enough to precipitate an avalanche.

Sheri lost control of the illusion that held her beauty intact. As it broke, the shock of her endless scars leapt out. Instinctively, Hector took a step back. It was not his fault. The sudden horror of her ruined face would have shaken anyone. But it might have been the most fatal step backward the world had ever known.

Sheri suddenly raised her sword. Her voice came out crazed.

“You’re saying I’m already damned for eternity? I know that! Just look at the way Tulas looks at me now. Look at the way Hector wants to embrace his dear Lucy. I’m better off going into the purple light. Who cares if the Entity knows no love? What difference does that make to me? When have I ever had love?”

Sheri swung her sword at Ali then. Ali saw it coming and ducked. Her sister’s blade struck the ground, and there was an explosion of light and fire. Sheri pivoted and swung at Ali again. This time Ali met her squarely, blade against blade, and the noise of that metallic clash was strong enough to make any human being go deaf.

Maybe that was why Hector did what he did next. For even though Ali shouted at him to stand back, he did not appear to hear her. As Ali darted left and right, trying to slip under her sister’s guard—and as Sheri made several countermoves—Hector held up his arms and stepped between them.

“Stop. Please,” he said.

The timing could not have been worse. On the verge of fooling her sister, Ali presented to Sheri what appeared to be a major opening. Her sister went for it, with a powerful stroke Sheri surely believed would be fatal. And it was fatal—it was just that her blade pierced Hector’s chest instead of Ali’s. It struck him deep in the center. The amount of blood that gushed out said it all. The blade had gone through his heart. Even as Sheri pulled out her sword, Hector began to fall. Ali had to drop her own blade to catch him. It didn’t matter. There could be no last-second healing. He was already dead.

Even though Geea had ordered Lord Vak, Lord Balar, General Tapor, and Ra to remain behind underground—they rushed
with her to the surface. They were anxious to see what remained of the enemy’s army, and what the unleashed fury of Lake Mira had done to the Crystal Palace. And, of course, they all wanted a piece of Doren.

Two facts caused them to drop their guard.
Every
single creature belonging to the Shaktra had been washed away. There wasn’t a drone in sight, never mind a measly dark fairy or a scalii. Even their foul corpses had been vanquished. It was as if the gentle green sea—to the far west—had changed its shape and mood and opened up an angry maw and swallowed the evil creatures.

Also, as they returned to the surface, they went straight to Geea’s quarters, the highest point in the palace; and the latter inevitably gave them a false sense of security. They all knew the position and structure of the bedroom made it practically inaccessible from the outside.

However, none of that mattered to the Shaktra. Riding a huge dragon that had clearly disobeyed Drash’s final order to retreat, Doren had the audacity to crash through the bedroom’s balcony window.

The boldness of the attack caught them all by surprise.

They were given no time to prepare a defense. A blast from the dragon incinerated General Tapor. The brave fairy turned to ash where he stood. Yet they were fortunate to have Lord Balar with them. Dwarves wore the heaviest armor, and were especially skilled at killing dragons—or so Ra had been told.

Certainly, Lord Balar had killed a few in his days. He was the first to move, and a bold move it was. He leapt directly onto the back of the beast and chopped off its head with his ax. He was an experienced warrior. He must have known that the move left his back exposed, but he took the risk anyway.

Doren thrust a spear through his spine, so deep, it came out his front.

Lord Balar died with the dragon.

Lord Vak countered by hurtling his famous black spear at Doren. It hit her shield and shattered it. Leaping off the back of the dead beast, Doren dropped her ruined shield and threw a black knife at Lord Vak’s leg. Her aim was sharp—the cruel blade impaled his hamstring, and the elven king stumbled against a wall. Ra went to pull it out, but Lord Vak stopped him.

“It will only bleed worse! Take my sword! Protect Geea!”

Ra did as he was told, but as he turned, he saw the fairies had already exited the room. They had gone out and over the balcony railing. Ra had to race down a flight of stairs to reach the soggy lawn and gardens where the final battle was to be waged.

Lestre continued to churn with foam and mud. Many large stones that normally sheltered the northern tip of Uleestar from the river had been overturned and thrown onto the lawn that stretched below Geea’s private quarters. The shrubs, the trees, the hedges, the flowers—all were gone. Even the sweet aroma of the spot had been washed away. The place smelled like a swamp.

Not that it mattered. The water-encased battlefield was damp and muddy but the two warriors blazed with such fire that Ra would not have been surprised if the entire area dried before one of them fell. Geea wore green; Doren’s robe was red. Geea also had on her emeralds—bracelets and anklets. Doren displayed a single ruby necklace. The latter was more than enough. As the light of the green sun caught the red jewels, Ra was almost blinded. The crimson light pierced deep into his eyes, and made him wonder how many foes Doren had hypnotized and then defeated with her necklace alone.

Geea’s sword was silver, with a gold hilt. Doren’s was a shiny black metal that tapered into burning gold. Doren also wore armor, a breastplate, but Geea had none. As Ra watched, they cautiously circled each other.

“Ra. Listen and do not argue,” Geea said. “You cannot help me now. You can only hurt me. Stay back.”

He held up Lord Vak’s sword. “My father says I am to protect you!”

“Not another word. You can only distract me from what I must do.”

Doren grinned as she nodded toward Ra. He was stunned by her beauty, and he had thought he had seen the limit of the word when he had met Geea. Doren was taller, her eyes larger, her nose sharper, but she moved with a slithering motion that reminded him of a reptile. Besides the green in her eyes, there were also shades of red and purple. These same colors vibrated through the magical field that surrounded her, and Ra saw it was brighter than Geea’s, more powerful, and that worried him.

“Who is that one?” Doren asked Geea.

“A toy, nothing more. Who was that dragon Lord Balar decapitated?”

“A pet. Did you like the way I took care of Lord Balar?”

“He was getting old. He died bravely, and in battle, the kind of death he would have wanted.”

Doren laughed. “What about Lord Vak? Has he lost his nerve? One knife in his leg and he decides to sit out the final round?”

“Doren?” Geea said.

“What?”

“Shut up and fight.”

Doren chuckled. “But maybe I want to savor our time together, sister. I know how short it’s going to be. Maybe I just
want to catch up on old times. You know, we haven’t seen each other in ages. How was your long sleep?”

“Fine. Occasionally, I would leave my body and spy on you. Your daily activities would amuse me more than any comedy. But I suppose any stooge working for the Entity would have made me laugh.”

Doren glared. “Liar! Inside or outside of the body, you never came near me.”

Geea made a face. “Oh my, you’re right. You’re so scary. I mean, you got that scary name. What does
Shaktra
mean, anyway? Where did you get it?”

The remark annoyed Doren. “You will never know.”

“Such a pity. That I might die so ignorant.”

Doren made a slash with her sword. Even though they were a good ten meters apart, Ra saw that Geea had to counter the swing. The air between them crackled with sparks. There was a loud bang. Doren continued to circle, to talk.

“You know what our two counterparts are doing right now? They’re talking, same as we are. Stalking each other as well. Like us, they have a witness to the final fight. That guy your Ali has brought along is trying to pass himself off as Tulas. Imagine that?”

“Sister. If you would close your mouth for once and take a look inside, you’d see that he is Tulas.”

“Tulas would never take birth as a human!”

“Are you sure?” Geea asked.

“He finished with that species ages ago!”

“Yet your dear Entity promised you two would be born together.”

A hideous wave of purple light pulsed through Doren’s massive field. Ra got only a hint of it, but still wanted to vomit. Also, Geea’s last remark had so angered Doren that the evil
sister had made another slashing motion with her sword. Again, even though the blade came nowhere near Geea, she had to quickly counter. This time the air between them briefly erupted in flames. The fire was dark, the smoke it left behind pure black.

“He’s not Tulas!” Doren screamed. “I would know if it was him!”