The Yanti

by Christopher Pike

  “What kind of things?”

  “Trust me, you’ll see.”

  He did not trust her, that much was obvious. She could not blame him. “Tell me one thing, Ali, does any of this have to do with what happened last month? When you and the others disappeared up the mountain for two days?”

  “Yes.”

  “So you lied about what happened then, right?”

  “Yes.”

  Her father sighed. “Ali, I love you more than anything in the world. I always have, from the instant you were born. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “So when are you going to stop lying to me?”

  “When you get home.” Her voice cracked then, with pain. It was true, she was still very human. How quickly she had forgotten; how hard it was to be reminded. She forced herself to add, “When you get home, everything will become clear.”

  They exchanged goodbyes and Ali set down the phone.

  Across the room, Nira continued to stare at her.

  Then there came a hard knock at the door.

  A man called out for her to answer.

  It was the police.

  “Open up, Ali! I know you’re in there!”

  It was not just any policeman. Ali recognized the voice. Officer Mike Garten—who for the last month had regularly stopped by to question her about Karl Tanner. The Tanners were the richest family in Breakwater, and Deputy Garten was trying to boost his career by solving the mystery of Karl’s disappearance. He was hoping to make himself the new sheriff. As if being the head honcho in Breakwater was a big deal. The tiny town had a lower crime rate than most West Coast malls.

  Grabbing Nira by the arm, Ali pulled the unprotesting child into her bedroom and gently shook Cindy awake. Garten continued to pound at the door, but when Cindy opened her eyes, they shone with a soft light.

  “I was having the most beautiful dream,” she whispered with a sigh.

  “Sorry to disturb it,” Ali said, wondering if Cindy was, like her, a fairy in the green world. They were so close, had been all their lives. Yet Ali had never paused to consider the possibility. Ali went on, “I wish I could have let you sleep longer, but Garten’s at the door, and he knows I’m here. I need you to take Nira and hide her in the basement. I’m pretty sure I can keep him out of the house, but he might have a search warrant, so I can’t be sure. Hide in the corner closet until I call for you.”

  At the mention of Nira’s name, Cindy came fully awake. Picking up the child—and a blanket to keep Nira warm—Cindy hurried to obey Ali’s instructions. As Cindy disappeared in the direction of the basement, Ali could not help but notice the way Nira clung to her. The child had already closed her eyes. She might even have gone back to sleep. She was in Cindy’s arms; all was well. Nira’s warm response to her friend gave substance to a theory Ali had just started to formulate.

  Ali tore off her pants and shirt, pulled on her nightgown. When she answered the door, she yawned loudly in the cop’s face. The sun had yet to totally rise but it was close at hand. Her front porch was well lit, and showed that the cop’s eyes were red and tired, no doubt from lack of sleep.

  Officer Mike Garten was on the young side for a cop, twenty-one. He was so tall and skinny, she hated to think what would happen if he ran into a real villain in the middle of the night. He would probably shoot himself in the foot. He was one of those guys who was so insecure, he constantly had to overcompensate by acting tough. Ali had heard that when he was in high school, he had joined the football team, and after taking a hard hit in the season’s opening game, he had sued the coach on the opposing team for “unjustifiable cruelty.” When he questioned her about Karl’s disappearance, he always tried to intimidate her. Usually she was able to rattle him with the power of her eyes and make him go away.

  This time, though, she worried, he might have something on her.

  “Officer Garten,” she said in surprise, still yawning. “Isn’t it a little early to be out harassing local citizens?”

  “I’ve been by this house a dozen times in the last three days and you haven’t answered once. Where the hell have you been?”

  “Please, Officer Garten, I’m only thirteen. My dad doesn’t like people swearing in my presence. Particularly people who carry badges and wear guns. By the way, that’s a nice shiny revolver you’ve got there. Killed anyone in the line of duty lately?”

  She loved to mock him—she couldn’t help herself. Along with the dirty money Karl’s father was no doubt slipping him—and the possibility of a major promotion—her mouth was probably the main reason he was determined to see her locked up. Her taunting didn’t help the situation, but . . . well, she was a fairy queen, she could fly and all that, but she was no angel.

  “Ali . . .” he began.

  “As to where I’ve been,” she interrupted. “It’s none of your business. I’m not a criminal and you’re not my parole officer. I don’t have to report what I do.”

  Her attitude made him smile, which did nothing to calm her down. He was acting cocky. He had something up his sleeve.

  “Heard your best pal, Cindy, was in Toule tonight, at the police station, saying your other friend, Steve, had been killed by the town’s most powerful lady—Ms. Sheri Smith. Cindy went on record as saying Ms. Smith murdered Steve right in front of her.”

  She scowled. “Then why, might I ask, are you grinning?”

  “Because when Toule’s police went to the scene of the supposed crime, they found nothing. Not a trace of foul play.” Garten paused. “Have anything to say about that?”

  “Nope.”

  “Thought you’d say that. Later in the night, about two hours ago, one of Toule’s police officers saw a girl who matched your description entering and exiting Ms. Smith’s residence.” There was definite gloat in this pause. “Have any comment on that?”

  Was he bluffing? She was sure she had not been seen at the house. She was extremely sensitive to the gaze of other people, even when they were hidden from view. Yet she might have missed someone. The entire time she had been at the mansion, she had not felt well. She had been dizzy and disoriented, almost as if she had been drugged.

  It was almost as if she had been under some kind of spell.

  “Nope,” Ali replied.

  “You’re absolutely sure you weren’t there?”

  “Yes.”

  He took out a pen and a tiny notepad, made a scribble. “I’m making a written record of your response. Later, in court, I might have to swear to a jury what you told me just now.”

  “Swear all you want, I know you like it.”

  As he had during his last visit, he tried to peer past her and see inside her house. “The Toule police say they drove Cindy home three hours ago, but I was just at the Franken residence, and she wasn’t there.”

  “So?”

  “So aren’t you worried where she is?”

  “She called me on her cell. I think she’ll be home soon.”

  “When was that?”

  “An hour or so ago.”

  “Where did she call you from?”

  Ali shrugged. “Beats me.”

  Garten kept twisting his neck to see past her. “Mind if I come in and have a look around?”

  “Yes. I do mind.”

  “Why? If you have nothing to hide?”

  “I just don’t like some low-level deputy ordering me around in my own house.”

  Hardening his tone, he tried to push past her. “I know she’s here. Get out of my way, Ali.”

  She blocked his way. She stood directly in front of him, planted her feet, and saw the look of astonishment on his face when he realized he could not budge her an inch. A skinny thirteen-year-old chick. Of course, a dozen strong men could not have pushed her out of the way. She smiled sweetly at him.

  “Do you have a warrant, Officer Garten? You’ll need one to search my house.” She added, “You might also need backup, the way you’re having trouble handling me.”

  Garten
backed off a step, frowned, puzzled. “Is your father here?”

  “No.”

  “Is Cindy Franken here?”

  “No.”

  He got angry. “You’re lying. You and your buddies—you’re all liars. Steve Fender isn’t dead, but Karl Tanner almost certainly is. And the district attorney and I—we’re confident you three are the ones who killed him.”

  “You mean you and the rest of the spoiled Tanner clan are confident. The district attorney is not as brain-dead as you and your rich chums. You know Steve and Cindy have been reported missing for the last three days, but that doesn’t bother you all, because their families are poor and therefore have no leverage at the mayor’s office. Since you got here, you’ve shown no genuine concern for them. That’s because their kidnappings at the hands of a rich woman don’t fit in with your silly conspiracy theories. Yeah, I know all about them, everyone in town has heard about your ‘Ali killed Karl plots.’ You’re the one who talked Mr. Tanner into thinking I was a suspect in the first place. Then you told him what names he should put on a suspect list. I bet he slipped you some cash to put us at the top of that list.” Ali added, “Don’t you just hate it when a cop turns out to be such a cop-out?”

  His bitterness rose. “Why you little . . .”

  She raised her hand, let a thread of her inner power enter her voice. “Going to swear at me again? Going to try to scare me into confessing to a crime you know nothing about?” Shaking her head, yawning for real this time, Ali reached for the doorknob. “Don’t bother answering, I’m tired of talking to you. I’m going back to bed.”

  Ali went to shut the door, but he stopped her, spoke sharply with an authority that surprised her. “You’re to appear at the police station at nine o’clock this morning.”

  She paused. “Says who?”

  He pulled out an official looking piece of paper, handed it over.

  “This is a court order signed by our local judge—Judge Lincoln—ordering you to appear. You can see your name clearly typed at the top. I just dropped the same papers off at Cindy’s and Steve’s houses. When your pals do reappear—and I’ve a funny feeling that’s going to happen soon—tell them they would be wise to be on time. Or else the three of you will be arrested, by me, and spend some time in juvenile hall.”

  Ali briefly scanned the paper. It looked like the real deal.

  “Is Sheri Smith connected to this?” she asked.

  Officer Garten nodded with satisfaction. “Like you said, in this part of the state, she’s a rich and powerful person. And you’re a fool to have made an enemy out of her. She’s not going to let bugs like you and your friends accuse her of murder—ruin her fine reputation—and get away with it. This kidnapping act that you cooked up—it’s obvious to anyone with a head on their shoulders that it’s a ploy to divert attention from what you did to Karl.”

  Ali sensed partial truth in his words. Clearly, Sheri Smith wanted to tie her up with mundane human matters—such as lawsuits—to keep her from trying to stop the upcoming elemental invasion.

  Ali met Garten’s gaze. “I’ve never even met the woman.”

  “You were at her company four days ago, snooping around under a false name. What did you call yourself? Lisa Morgan? Where did you get that name from? I don’t suppose it matters. At least a dozen of the firm’s employees can testify that you were at Omega Overtures.” Garten paused. “Why were you there anyway?”

  When she didn’t answer, he grinned and re-asked the dagger question, the one that could bury her at the nine o’clock meeting at the police station.

  “Come on, where have you been the last three days?” he asked.

  “Camping in the woods.”

  “You can prove that, I suppose?”

  “I don’t have to prove anything.”

  He chuckled as he stepped toward his patrol vehicle. “Sounds to me like you’ve got your excuses all lined up, Ali. I just hope Breakwater’s and Toule’s bigwigs believe you. By the way, the mayors of both towns are going to be at the meeting. They’re not happy at the way you three kids keep disappearing. Especially with Karl still missing. Or should I say, especially with Cindy accusing the richest woman in the state of murder.” Garten chuckled to himself. “That was a dumb stunt if I ever saw one. You’ve always been a pain in the butt, Ali, but I never took you to be an idiot. But this time, I promise, you’re not walking away with a smirk on your face.”

  Bitter, remembering Steve’s cruel murder at the hands of the witch, Ali leapt onto her front porch and snapped, “How do you know for sure the woman didn’t kidnap Steve and Cindy? Have you investigated the matter? How do you know Steve is even alive?”

  Garten laughed as he opened the door to his black and white. “Go back to bed, Ali. I’m not the one you have to worry about now. It’s that cop who saw you entering Sheri Smith’s house. It’s only fair to warn you—at this meeting—Ms. Smith’s going to be there, and she’s going to have a team of expensive lawyers with her.” He added, “If I were you, I’d bring one myself. Even if you have to dig one out of the yellow pages.”

  Ali felt her frustration grow, and got doubly mad at herself that she let it be heard in her voice. “I’m thirteen, I’m just a minor. My dad isn’t here to advise me. I don’t have to attend your stupid meeting.”

  Just before climbing in his vehicle, Garten lost his grin and spoke in a harsh tone. “Get off it, Ali. Your sweet, innocent, little-girl act doesn’t fool me for a second. I know you three murdered that boy. And I know you were the mastermind behind it.”

  “How can you be so sure?” she asked in a deadly tone, thinking how nice it would be to light his crew cut on fire and watch him dance across her lawn. Just having the idea in her head might have raised the local temperature. Garten wiped a bead of perspiration from his hairline and shook his head.

  “Just something about you, Ali. You ain’t normal.”

  Ali went to yell at him some more, but stopped herself. The truth was, she had killed the jerk—but only because Karl had murdered her mother two weeks ago. But there was no sense in pleading that angle. For everyone in town, including her own father, believed her mother had died over a year ago.

  “Ms. Smith is going to be there . . .”

  As Ali watched Garten drive off, she couldn’t get that remark out of her head, but she knew the cop wouldn’t have laughed had he known who Sheri Smith really was—the Shaktra.

  Yet Sheri Smith represented only half the Shaktra. Ali was pretty sure the other half continued to roam the green world—as her fairy mother also continued to exist in the other dimension. Only the Shaktra was a creature of hate, who had assembled a vast army to lay waste to all that was beautiful in both worlds—a heartless beast driven by ambitions Ali could not begin to understand. And to think, in just a few hours, the human halves of Sheri Smith and Ali Warner would be sitting side by side at the same table.

  Ali felt a headache coming on. This interdimensional war was too complex. It was difficult to keep all the players straight. Especially when it came to her own family. Plus there were so many names . . . even when it came to the same people.

  Ali . . . Geea . . . Alosha.

  Lucy . . . Sheri . . . Shaktra . . . Doren.

  With Officer Mike Garten gone, Cindy led Nira back upstairs and told Ali she really needed to get home. Ali begged for a few more minutes of her time.

  “Why?” Cindy asked, showing her tiredness, which meant her crankiness. “Didn’t you get enough information out of my brain?”

  “I learned a few things that would surprise you, but we still have to figure out how to deal with the police.” Ali held out the document Garten had left behind. Cindy took it reluctantly, scanned it, while Nira laid down on the couch and closed her eyes. The girl was as exhausted as the rest of them. Ali continued, “You’re going to have a paper like that waiting for you at your house. It’s ordering us to appear at a nine o’clock meeting at the police station.”

  “What kind of meeting?”
>
  “It’s going to be more of an interrogation than a friendly gathering. The police from both towns are going to rake you over the coals with questions. Plus the mayors of Breakwater and Toule are going to be there.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Garten—and whoever he’s working for—are trying to connect Karl’s disappearance with your and Steve’s kidnapping.”

  “I’m not following you.”

  “Garten has this wild theory that the three of us staged your kidnapping to divert attention from what we did to Karl.”

  Cindy snorted. “No one will believe that. A fake kidnapping would draw more attention to us.”

  “I agree. The problem is, no one’s going to believe you until Steve’s body is found.” Ali added, “I’m afraid that ain’t going to happen anytime soon.”

  “You really think Sheri Smith . . . took him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Doesn’t my word count for anything with the police?”

  “They need proof a crime has actually been committed. So far, when it comes to Karl and Steve, they don’t have any physical evidence of foul play—except for the fact that both are missing. What hurts us is—the police already think you lied to them.”

  “When?”

  “Remember in Toule—when the cops went out to Smith’s house—they came back to the station and reported to their captain that they couldn’t find a basement?”

  “Such dorks. I told them exactly where it was. I can take them back to the house and show them where it is.”

  “This is going to be hard to believe, but when I was there, I couldn’t find the door that led to the basement.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Just telling you what I saw. When I went back to Smith’s house, there was no entrance to the basement. It looked as if there never had been a doorway. Also, where I laid Steve on the sofa, blood from his wound dripped onto the couch. But when I checked it an hour ago, the stain was gone.”

  “Could Sheri Smith have snuck in and cleaned it up?”