The Yanti

by Christopher Pike

  Unfortunately, using voom had not been a quiet way to sneak into the green world. The unnatural breeze cast by the many flapping dragon wings suddenly altered—directly over her head. The wind greatly intensified; it was as if Ali had been thrust into the center of a tornado. Each dragon had changed course, and was now racing toward her. As they came near, the red flames about their snouts swelled ferociously. Their plan, she saw, was simple.

  They were going to blast the entire mountaintop.

  Something unexpected happened to Ali right then. She had planned for this battle for hours, but for some odd reason—even after having killed two of the dragons—she suddenly froze in panic. The dragons didn’t care, they kept coming.

  Ali stood absolutely still for five seconds. She simply could not move.

  Then she shook herself, as an idea struck her.

  The dragon’s rush toward her might be a good thing, after all!

  Let them blast the mountain, she thought. Her killing two of their partners had enraged them. They were not thinking, either. Their attack speed was so great—there was no way they were going to be able to suddenly halt. After spraying Mt. Tutor with flames, they would have to veer off to avoid crashing into the mountain.

  It was then she would have her chance to escape!

  Turning, Ali flew back into the mountain cave.

  Just in time. She was a hundred yards into the tunnel when it exploded in flame. The ancient walls of the mountain took the brunt of it. Nevertheless, her magnetic field strained under the pressure of the heat. It was as if she were an ant, and a human had pressed a blowtorch over the top of her anthill.

  The instant the fire began to recede, she tightened her field closer to her body and waited a few seconds, let the worst of the heat dissipate. Then she flew straight into the flames. For a few seconds she was blind. She could have been inside a sun. All she saw was red plasma. That did not worry her, however—the fire had definitely cooled from the initial blast. Better yet, it made her invisible. If she could not see them, they could not see her. When she did finally burst from the red cloud, she found herself two miles from the burning peak, and at least a mile from the nearest dragon.

  Now came the most important question of all.

  Could she fly faster than a dragon?

  The answer, if she remembered correctly from her previous life, was yes, she was faster than the majority of dragons, no matter what their age or size. She was also more maneuverable. In an instant, she could alter her course. But with their bulk, dragons took time and room to change direction.

  However, there were a few dragons, she recalled, that were faster than she. And unfortunately, from a glance over her shoulder, she saw that the Shaktra knew who those dragons were. The monster must have placed at least four of them outside Mt. Tutor—for no matter how much pressure Ali applied to her field, these four kept getting closer.

  Ali was flying north, heading for Karolee, the land of the fairies, and Uleestar, the fairy capital, where she hoped to find protection in the Crystal Palace, her home in the green world.

  At present, directly beneath her, the sand that surrounded Mt. Tutor vanished, as she passed over Elnar—a wide river that flowed out of the east and into the sea—and she began to fly above Lestre, a river that ran north to south.

  Lestre was interesting for several reasons. It flowed directly through the fairy capital, and shielded Uleestar on all sides with running water, which made the inner capital an island of sorts, and difficult to attack.

  Plus Lestre had a twin, Tiena, that ran directly beneath it, through an underground cavern. While Lestre flowed south into Elnar, before turning west and into the ocean, a third of Lestre’s water disappeared from the surface and flowed back north, eventually entering Lake Mira, in the Youli Mountains. Lake Mira, in turn, helped feed Lestre, along with melting snow from the mountains.

  It had been explained to Ali that it was the power of the levitating mountains, the kloudar, that pulled the waters of Tiena back to Lake Mira; even upward, at a steep angle, into the Youli Mountains.

  Had the situation been a fraction less dire, Ali would have enjoyed the sight of the twin rivers and the wide green lands, the trees, and most of all the green sea that lay off to her left in the west, and where the Isle of Greesh could be glimpsed in the distance. But with so many dragons on her tail, she realized any possibility of hiding in Uleestar was out of the question. Luckily, she had an alternative plan.

  She just hoped she got a chance to use it.

  From behind her came a geyser of flame. It was like a cloud of steam that had arisen from a lake filled with gasoline, and then ignited. The most painful concentration of the heat was at the exact center of the wave, and it made her wonder if the dragons were able to coordinate their blasts together. Of course, practice made perfect, and these same dragons had been fighting Lord Vak and his army for a long time.

  Ali managed to keep her clothes from igniting, and added a notch to her speed, which bought her time. It was odd that she should think of Vak and his warriors then, because out the corner of her eye, far in the east, she saw a haze of dust, and many tiny figures of all sizes and shapes, in the center of the cloud.

  For the second time, she was pretty sure she was seeing Lord Vak’s army. The first time she had encountered him and his warriors had been near home, atop Pete’s Peak, right after she had discovered the Yanti. But even though they had a common enemy in the Shaktra, they were not exactly allies. He had already surrendered to the Shaktra, and the main condition of that surrender was the promise to invade Earth and kill humans.

  Out the corner of her other eye, in a sheltered cove along the coast, she saw another unusual sight. A mass of boats—there were thousands of them—with sleek wooden frames and tall white sails. From her previous life as Geea, she recalled that this was the Shaktra’s navy. The boats that had brought the enemy’s forces across the sea, from the Isle of Greesh, when Doren had invaded the mainland.

  It was strange, Ali thought, but as queen of the fairies she should have destroyed them. They were unguarded. If she had time now, she could have flown over and burned the lot of them. Perhaps she had kept them safe for a reason.

  The four fast dragons roared behind her. Once more they set forth a concentrated burst of flame. The water bottle in her pack steamed, then exploded under pressure. Her panic returned. Strands of her red hair caught fire. They literally curled and crackled and turned to smoke. The burnt odor hung in her field, and made her shudder. The last time she had entered the green world, she had been burned. The pain of that memory was too fresh in her mind . . .

  For some reason, her sister’s words came back to her then.

  “You think it’s so easy. Put your hands on my heart and head. Let the Yanti warm. Then I’ll be whole again, and everything I’ve gone through will be forgotten. Why, I might even bow at your feet and thank you . . . You know nothing.”

  There was truth to the accusation. During her recent fight with the dark fairies, Ali had merely burned her hand, and it had been horrible. She could not imagine what Lucy Pillar must have endured.

  Another blast came, and it was worse, because the dragons were closer. The bottom of her jeans—on the left leg—caught fire. She had to beat it out. That caused her to lose speed. She lost even more when she turned and mentally showered her burnt skin with water. She still controlled the water element, and the liquid helped soothe the pain . . .

  But the dragons had cut her lead in half.

  Ali squeezed her eyes shut and envisioned her field as an impenetrable block of ice—that even the hottest flame could not touch. The focus gave strength to her shield, but the energy she poured into it further decreased her speed. In seconds the fastest dragons came within a quarter of a mile of her, and she could tell, by the way they sucked in their next breaths that they were preparing for a decisive blow. At the same time, up ahead, five miles distant, Ali could see another dozen dragons heading her way.

  The Shaktra
had laid her trap wisely. Ali was boxed in.

  Maybe.

  From the time she had left the green world, Ali had considered how the Shaktra would try to block her return. Although the sheer number of dragons had caught her by surprise, Ali had figured Doren would use them. After all, they were her most powerful allies. And while contemplating the dragon scenario, Ali had come up with the only possible route she could take to escape them.

  She had to use Tiena.

  The subterranean cavern through which the dark river flowed.

  The dragons behind her were only two hundred yards away, the ones in front less than a mile distant, when she caught sight of the broken harbor she, Drash, Ra, and her other pals had used to reach the one river in all the magical land that never saw the green sun. There were beautiful winding columns of steps that led from beside the harbor and down into the hidden river. Yet Ali had no interest in them, not this time.

  In the midst of her collision course with the dragons, she suddenly let herself drop from the sky, plunging underground, moving so fast that she almost tore herself to shreds on the stone walls of the river entrance.

  Her sudden change in direction threw her prey off stride. But the dragons were not dumb; they knew about Tiena, and they were not so large that they could not follow her underground, which they did. Yet it took them time—for they could only enter the subterranean cavern one at a time. By then she had pulled far ahead, skimming smoothly over the cool waters of the river that had been as much a part of her past life as her own bedroom in the Crystal Palace.

  She let her burnt leg touch the river. The cool water was soothing. Her panic began to subside. Now she was ready to roll the dice.

  For Ali knew things about this cavern that few fairies knew, even those who had been close to her. It did not take a genius to see that Uleestar was hard to invade on the surface, but was vulnerable to an attack from underground, via the river. For that reason, in the half-domed ceiling that sheltered the river on its winding path beneath the ground, the queen of the fairies—Geea—had implanted hundreds of takor.

  What was takor? It was only found on the kloudar, and since no other race could fly up to the floating mountains—except the dragons, who were not miners—the stones were only known to the high fairies. From the outside, they appeared to be nothing more than black rocks, but smooth, like pieces of frozen lava. Cracking them open did not cause them to explode, yet inside, when split, they gave off a dull green light, even in the dark.

  It was lucky few knew about them, because takor was the elemental equivalent of dynamite. Only their fuse was a certain type of sonic wave; and by weight, they were more powerful than any non-nuclear weapon mankind had ever invented. As a defensive device, their drawback was their scarcity. There were so few of them to be found. For example, to rig Tiena to prevent an attack via the river, Queen Geea had used up half her supply of takor.

  Now that they were at war, Ali thought, it seemed a pity the fairies had never figured out how to manufacture them. Yet fairies were, by nature—like most elementals—not drawn to making weapons. They considered warfare a human obsession. For the most part, elementals lived and let live.

  However, even before the Shaktra’s arrival, the elves and dwarves used to go at it from time to time. There was always an exception to everything.

  Once Lord Vak had tried to get Queen Geea to discuss takor.

  Even his son Jira had asked her about them. She had just smiled.

  On the plus side, takor could be detonated by the voom technique. Indeed, Ali knew Geea had known of no other way to explode the stones.

  For that reason, takor was a weapon in her hands only.

  Ali knew her father had never taught Doren how to use voom.

  Now, flying in the dark above quietly gurgling Tiena, Ali allowed her frantic flight to slow, to let the dragons see her, so as to bring them all down into the watery cavern. Even though learning to swim was one of the tests a koul—an adolescent fire-breather—had to go through to become a full-fledged dragon, Ali remembered that they did not like water.

  Pursuing her now, in a black deeper than any night, she heard the beat of their wings, saw the red glow of their smoldering snouts, yet she sensed their caution as well. The air was damp, the space confined, and perhaps one or two of them considered that it might be a trap. But none wanted to be called a coward; and Ali had counted ten dragons behind her, had seen another dozen in front, and with the power of her subtle senses, she now saw that the last of the twenty-two dragons had entered the cavern and were closing in on her shimmering form. Yes, she let her field glow green and bright, like an emerald in the night; and they thought they had her.

  Ali sucked in a deep breath and held her palms to her mouth.

  She blew hard. She clapped hard. The takor exploded.

  The stones were spaced at intervals in the ceiling of the cavern. As Ali detonated them, she flew quickly toward the underground harbor beneath the Crystal Palace, where previously, on her last journey, she had met Amma and Trae.

  And she moved none too soon.

  It was as if a bolt of lightning shot the length of the cavern. There came a deafening thunder. The dragons were illumined in a blinding light. She saw their huge wings suddenly splay out, striking the sides of the tunnel, as if trying to ward off blows that came at them from every direction at once. As the ceiling exploded, and the weight of the world fell on them, shoving them beneath the water, Ali sensed their dying horror.

  Of course she felt their agony, as she grieved for the river as well. The dragons had been destroyed, true, but she had killed Tiena as well. A crashing tidal wave chased her farther up the cavern. The river could not possibly recover from the stone dam she had dropped in its heart. A large share of the green world’s magic had been permanently ruined with the loss of Tiena, and she knew she was to blame.

  Her heart heavy, Ali flew toward the harbor that lay beneath Uleestar and the Crystal Palace. She knew it would be in shambles from the rushing water, but it was here she planned to return to the surface, perhaps to find more high fairies to help her with her mission.

  But it was not to be . . . Not all the dragons had been fooled.

  Between Ali and Uleestar was Drash’s father.

  Kashar. The oldest and most powerful of all the dragons.

  Once they had been friends, King Kashar and Queen Geea.

  Now he did not look happy to see her.

  CHAPTER

  8

  Kashar sat on the exact spot where Ali had met Trae and Amma on her last visit to Uleestar. But now the harbor shook with turbulence. Better than half the boats that had been previously anchored there had been drowned.

  Waves continued to pound the area. Ali knew they would not last. The tons of rock she had dropped on the dragons had severed Tiena from Lestre. On the surface, south of her present position, she knew Lestre must be already swelling, probably across the sandy desert that surrounded Mt. Tutor. That might be good—it would slow Vak’s advance toward the Earth. Without the Yanti, Ali knew he would use the yellow door inside the mountain to try to invade humanity’s home.

  Yet it was hard for Ali to imagine Vak’s army would attack Earth via Pete’s Peak and Breakwater. He would not push his entire force through a single narrow cave and one hick town. It was more likely the elven king planned to use all the caves she had found—the six tunnels located just above the doors. It was through one of those tunnels that she had ended up in Africa—on the side of Kilimanjaro—and met Ra.

  She wished she had Ra with her now, to face Kashar.

  The king of the dragons was bigger than any other of his race, and his coloring, especially on his wings and his face, was more varied. His son, Drash—after he had transformed into a full-fledged dragon—had been largely black, with hints of red and purple on his skin. Kashar had streaks of blue, particularly on his wings, and yellow circles around his red triangular eyes.

  Yet there was a dull tinge to the yellow—it looked
as if it were the result of sickness. Where his wings were blue, the skin was cracking. She could see faint bloody veins that pulsed as he settled his massive bulk before her. It made her recall a talk she’d had with Drash, not long after they’d met.

  “My father is Kashar, king of the dragons, and for as long as there have been tales to tell and remember, he has been a staunch ally of the fairies. Many times over the long years he visited the high fairies at Uleestar. But recently he has allied himself with the Shaktra, and set the other dragons to killing fairies, elves, dwarves, and leprechauns.”

  Ali had asked why Kashar had joined the Shaktra.

  “Because the Shaktra promised him the one thing dragons long for above all else. It told him that it would show him how to remain on the kloudar, even when they pass on the other side of Anglar. That way all the dragons would be able to enter the blue universe, like the ice maidens, and leave the bounds of this world behind . . . Drash thinks his father has been bewitched.”

  Ali had pressed him on the issue.

  “Drash has heard a rumor that the Shaktra is able to give the dragons a taste of the blue universe.”

  Ali had asked if the Shaktra was feeding them something.

  “Drash does not know for sure. But if the Shaktra is, then it cannot stop . . . Or perhaps Drash should say, the dragons do not want it to stop.”

  Ali had asked if the substance might be addictive, like opium.

  Drash had shook his head, wanting to avoid the question. But he had said: “Drash can see that the dragons have changed for the worse.”

  Ali was not surprised to see that Kashar did not look like the king of the dragons she once knew, and he was one creature she remembered well, for they had been close friends. His alliance with the Shaktra had definitely aged him, which was odd, for dragons aged very slowly, and outlived all other beings in the green world—except, of course, the ice maidens, who did not count, since they came and went as they pleased, and were not bound to the elemental kingdom.