But when she crawled out of her spot, beneath the shade of Overhang, she saw Mr. Havor and Terry having breakfast, and Mr. Warner heating a pot of coffee. Nira was also nearby—refilling their bottles from a stream that flowed over the smooth stone. Odd, but Cindy did not recall the stream from their last visit.
What was even stranger was Terry was not eating breakfast. He stared down at the protein bars Ali’s father had given him with an expression so blank, he could have been the one who was autistic. At least he had let the hood of his sweatshirt fall back.
During the night, while hiking through the tunnel, she had not seen him drink once. Now, in the light of day, he looked familiar to Cindy.
She had seen the guy before, she could have sworn it.
Where? When? She did not know. But Ali would know.
Cindy tried to call her friend again. The phone just rang.
Nira looked over at her. “Ali is fine,” she said.
“You’re sure?” Cindy asked.
Nira faintly smiled. “Are you sure you love her?”
“Yes. But what does that have to do with how she is?”
“When you love someone, you feel them, even when they are not there. A new mother does not have to hear her baby cry in the night to know it needs attention. She is up to take care of it in a moment. You hear wise people say we are all connected, but that is only true when the love is complete. Then the connection cannot be broken.” Nira added, “I am sure Ali is fine.”
“Was it hard for you to watch Steve die?” she asked.
Nira hesitated. “I never saw him die.”
“But you were there . . .”
“I do not see death,” Nira interrupted. “There is no death.”
The lesson was too abstract for Cindy. They were chasing after a crazy woman with a nuclear bomb. Death was all around them. She did not need to see it to feel it.
Not long after, they continued their hike toward the cave. She turned out to be their main guide. It was not far away, Cindy remembered. Soon they would be back underground, and searching for a nuclear bomb. God.
Whenever Cindy felt tired, or that the air was too thin to breathe, she would hold Nira’s hand and a few seconds later she would feel fine. Cindy noticed Mr. Warner doing likewise. Nira did not seem to mind sharing her energy.
Yet Mr. Havor and Terry seemed to get by without help, although the blind man did occasionally call for a break. Cindy could not help worrying about him. He acted so guilty—as if he should have stopped Sheri Smith years ago. At the same time, Cindy found him a difficult read. He never took off his dark glasses.
Ali tried following Nemi’s advice, by sitting quietly and feeling for what Geea was doing. The task was perhaps the most difficult he had ever assigned—to simply be still. What was she seeing anyway? Visions of reality? Or her own projected fears? Ali could not be certain, but she did sense Geea was already at war with a number of creatures: dark fairies, scaliis, dragons maybe . . . At the same time, an even more dominant image began to form in her mind.
Ali sensed that her friends were up on the mountain.
She was about to fly up and have a look when she received a call on Hector’s cell. Nancy Pillar. The woman sounded sane.
“You told me to call you,” she said, and she sounded close to tears, happy ones. “I wanted to thank you so much for what you did for me.”
“I didn’t do much,” Ali said.
“You gave me back my life! I remember now what happened to me.” Hesitating, her voice dropped to a whisper. “I just don’t know why. Why my own daughter placed a compulsion on me.”
“In the same way she put you under a spell, she was placed under a much more powerful one after she got burned in the accident with Hector.”
The words seemed to make sense to Nancy. “There was this time at the hospital, after she had an operation—she was having one every month—when a man came to visit. I don’t recall his name, but he came several days in a row. Lucy enjoyed his company, but he gave me the creeps. When I asked what he did for a living, he was vague. He hinted that he could help Lucy with her scarring. That made me think he was some kind of doctor. But then . . .” The woman didn’t finish.
“Then what?” Ali prodded.
“Then I’m not sure what happened. It’s one of the reasons I didn’t call you earlier in the day. I’ve been sitting here trying to remember the sequence of events. It’s a blur. The man kept showing up. After Lucy was discharged from the hospital, he began to stop by our house. It was then I felt as if I sometimes lost track of time. Does that make any sense?”
“Yes.”
“I’d be talking with Lucy and the man and then, it would be later in the day, or even the next morning. Then I remembered coming home from work one evening, and I saw Lucy studying herself in the mirror. She didn’t know I was there, at first, because I came up from behind her. But then I saw her reflection in the glass and it was . . . well, this is hard to explain.”
“She was no longer scarred.”
“Yes! She looked perfectly normal!”
“Then what happened?”
“I think I must have made a noise. She turned around, and suddenly her face was as bad as ever. She got angry at me, very angry, like I had never seen her before. It was like she wanted to hurt me for discovering her dirty little secret. Only I hadn’t a clue what was going on.”
“Then?” Ali said.
“That’s it. That’s the last clear memory I have . . . until I woke up this morning. Of course I remember Lucy visiting occasionally, and I can recall the last few years of my life. But all these memories I’ve had since that day I saw my daughter’s reflection in the mirror—they’re not mine. It’s as if they happened to someone else. Do you know what I mean?”
“Yes.”
“You worked a miracle on me. You gave me back my mind.”
“But you know who you are. What you are. It was no miracle.”
There was gratitude in the woman’s voice. “Yes it was, Geea. And yes, I know who you really are now. I even know my own Doren. You say she was put under a spell, but I still don’t understand why.”
“It wasn’t her fault. She didn’t want to hurt you, or her father. Or anyone for that matter. But after she was burned in that accident, an evil power entered this world. We don’t know how many people it pursued, but because Lucy was a powerful soul—in a weakened condition—it went after her. And I’m sorry to say it got a hold on her, a hold she hasn’t been able to break off.” Ali paused. “That’s why I’m here. I’m here to stop that power from doing any more damage.”
Nancy Pillar hesitated. “You mean, you have to stop Lucy?”
Ali closed her eyes, had to take a breath. The woman was no longer a fool. She deserved the truth. “Yes,” she said.
“How are you going to stop her?”
“I’m going to do whatever it takes.”
The bluntness of Ali’s answer shocked the woman. A note of strength entered her voice—a note that would not have been possible yesterday. Ali had to remind herself she was now talking to a high fairy. She had her own strength.
“She’s my daughter. She’s your sister. How can you . . .?”
“What’s inside her . . . she’s not Lucy or Doren anymore. She’s something else, and the horror she’s preparing to inflict on Earth, there’s no way to imagine it. She could very well plunge this entire world into a living hell.”
“But there’s good in her. Why else would she have bothered to come to see me? And I know how much she loves Nira.”
“Perhaps she loved her, but she put a spell on her as well. If there’s any way I can stop Lucy without hurting her, I’ll do it. At the same time, I don’t want to lie to you.”
There was a long pause. “Do you know where she is now?”
“I have an idea.”
“Is there any way I could talk to her?”
“No.”
The woman considered. “I hear it in your voice. I caught you
just before you were going to leave. You’re going to kill her now, aren’t you?”
“I’m going to do what I have to do.” Ali added, “I’m sorry.”
Nancy was not exactly bitter. There was more pain in her voice than anything else. Yet she was not going to roll over and let her only child die.
“There must be some way to save her,” she said firmly.
“Tell me what it is and I’ll do it.”
“Geea was a healer, not a killer.”
“Geea—I—have always been a warrior—when the situation demanded it. I am sorry, truly, to have to speak to you this way. But, short of killing her, I can see no other way to stop her.”
A long silence passed between them.
“I wish you had never visited me last night,” Nancy said finally.
“Pardon?”
“I could have just floated along, you know. Thinking about my Lucy. Thinking about . . . nothing. Now that I have my mind back, that’s all I’m going to have. I’ll be back where I started from. My husband’s gone thirteen years now, and soon my only child will be dead.” Nancy added quietly, “I’ll have nothing.”
Ali sat in silence with her for a few minutes. Finally she spoke.
“As you say, I am your queen. If there is anything else I can do for you?”
“Save her soul,” the woman said. “Don’t let her die like this. Not . . . in darkness.”
“I understand,” Ali said.
There was nothing else to be said. Setting down the phone, Ali had to wipe away a wealth of tears. In all this time, how seldom had she thought of her enemy as her sister. How little she had considered Doren’s suffering at the hands of the Entity, and the pain she had endured inside Hector’s burning car.
Ali had just wanted to kill the witch. It had taken Doren’s own mother to remind her that her sister deserved at least pity, if not love.
“How can I let myself love her?” Ali whispered aloud.
How? When she had to ready herself to kill her.
Ali flew over the mountain in the bright sunlight, keeping her elevation high, not wishing to be seen by any hikers or campers. Not for the first time, she wondered if she showed up on the armed forces’ radar screens. Or even local airport radar. There would probably be reports of UFOs in tomorrow’s papers. She had been zipping back and forth across the country so often and so fast, somebody had to notice something.
Ali searched for her friends but did not see them. Unknown to her, had she started her search ten minutes earlier, she would have seen her father, Mr. Havor, Terry, Cindy, and Nira just before they entered the lower portion of the cave.
Yet that entrance held little interest to Ali. It was too far from the six tunnels and the seven colored doors, not to mention the other three doors—which she still did not understand. The top of the cave, where she’d killed Radrine, was where she put her focus. She was hoping to see either a helicopter—that might have lifted the nuclear bomb to the cave—or else signs that the helicopter had come and gone. Such a vehicle would have left tracks in the earth, or in the small pools of snow that continued to linger in the vicinity of the peak.
Unfortunately, Ali saw nothing from the sky. Even when she landed beside the cave entrance, she found no extra set of footprints on the ground. It was possible Sheri had yet to bring up her weapon, or else she might have used the lower entrance, although that would have complicated her task. Taking the lower entrance, it was over eight times farther to the doors.
Nevertheless, Ali was on the verge of flying down to check it out when she heard a noise in the cave. Stepping inside, she put an ear to the stone wall and listened intensely. There it was again! An echo. Metal hitting metal. Sheri must be inside. She must have the bomb with her.
Ali shuddered with excitement. She did not know if it was a good day to die, she just knew one of them must. Her fear was matched only by her desire to attack. Yes, to kill the witch, and end the war . . .
However, Nemi had told her . . . what? She had to somehow coordinate her attack with Geea’s attack on Doren? Sounded good in theory, but how was she supposed to do it? Geea might be able to read her mind, but the reverse was not true. For all Ali knew, Geea could be eating lunch right now.
No, Sheri was in the cave with the bomb and it was time.
Time the witch paid for her mother and Steve.
Drawing in a deep breath, letting her field swell to maximum potency, Ali allowed her shimmering green bubble to lift her off the ground and carry her down the length of the black cave. She did not need a flashlight to see. Her powerful green eyes generated their own soft glimmer. And she did not care that Sheri would see her coming. It was good her sister should know that her queen had stopped by to say hello.
Again, they were in Geea’s bedroom, and again Ra, Trae, and Amma sat on the floor at the feet of their queen, as Geea rested on a corner of the bed, her gaze somehow near, somehow far off as well. To Ra, when he was with Geea, he felt he was with Ali as well. Geea’s next words only confirmed that fact.
“She moves too soon,” Geea whispered.
Ra sat up with a start. “Ali?”
“Yes.”
“Is she going after Sheri Smith?”
Geea nodded. “Too soon, and she is not well-armed . . .” Her voice trailed off as her eyes went to Amma. “I remember what you did for me.”
Amma nodded. “The question is, does she?”
“Nemi has warned her. She does not listen. She acts without thinking.”
“Is Sheri Smith capable of killing her?” Ra asked, anxious.
Geea nodded. “Just as Doren is capable of killing me.”
Ra stood, frustrated with how calm they were all acting. “We have to help her!”
Geea spoke patiently. “All her life I’ve tried to help her, whispering inside her heart. It’s the same for all humans. In each there’s a voice that resides in the silence of their innermost being—a voice they can choose to listen to whenever they wish. The trouble is, most never stop to do so.”
“But Ali . . .” Ra began.
“Is very human,” Geea said. “That’s her strength and her weakness. On the Isle of Greesh, she dared what I was afraid to try. She is bold and fierce. Yet she is reckless and not always wise. Right now, as we speak, I tell her to back off, to let events unfold further, but she does not listen.”
“Because she cannot hear you,” Ra protested.
“Because she is human. The Entity is accurate when it says you are reckless when it comes to your own world. The majority seldom pause to look around and let the Earth tell them what it needs to survive. In the same way, Ali needs . . .”
“Send her a stronger message!” Ra shouted. He could not believe he had just interrupted Geea. Yet she smiled down at him, and brushed a lock of dark hair from his eyes.
“Nira and Nemi have given her enough messages to guide her. If she survives this encounter with her sister, then she’ll have more time to reflect upon them.” Geea stood and walked to the south-facing window. “The truth is, we have to help ourselves.”
Amma stood and came up behind her. “What do you see?”
Ra could see only black smoke and flying dragons out the window. The dragons’ whips of flame steadily destroyed what were left of the dark fairies—the unfortunate ones who had not been trapped inside Mt. Tutor.
The shift of the elemental army to Uleestar went smoothly. Already the boats had docked at a harbor not far from the fairy capital. With Lord Vak, Lord Balar, and General Tapor guiding the elementals through the exotic woods of Karolee, it would not be long before Uleestar was a place of concentrated power. Surely, Doren would not dare attack the Earth with such a threat at her back, Ra thought.
Yet Geea was troubled. “I see something on the back of a dragon.”
“Is it a scab?” Ra asked.
“Yes.”
“That should not worry a dragon,” Trae remarked, also coming to the window. Geea glanced his way, then back out the window.
/> “This one is big,” Geea said.
“How big?” Ra asked, standing behind her.
“The scab on the back of the dragon is as big as a house,” Geea replied.
Sheri Smith did not seem surprised to see her. Sitting on what looked like the tail-end of the bomb, she glanced up as Ali came near. At the same time, she lifted a beautifully polished silver sword—the golden hilt studded with a dozen different jewels—and pointed it in her direction.
“Stop,” she called out.
Ali stopped. Near was a relative term. There was still a hundred yards between them. But the gap felt smaller, because Ali could fly, and cover it in less than a blink of an eye. Plus the sheer size of the bomb made it—and its owner—appear much closer than the length of a football field. But no matter how you looked at it, the distance remained, and it was important to Sheri that Ali did not cross a certain line.
The bomb was an ugly contraption. The basic design was of a grossly overweight torpedo, but it was way too thick and bulky to fit in a submarine. The dull gray paint and the wide rear fins made it look very fifties. But why should it look pretty anyway? It had been designed to kill as many people as possible.
Ali studied her surroundings. In numerous spots in the walls, it looked as if holes had been drilled, then covered over with cement—which had now hardened. There were many such “buried holes” on Ali’s side of the bomb, and on the far side of Sheri and the weapon. These holes had been carefully drilled on either side of the six tunnels, but far from them as well.
Ali understood. Whatever her sister had placed in the holes—it was probably dynamite—she didn’t want it damaging the six tunnels. The holes and the tunnels had to be far enough apart to keep the tunnels safe.
On the other hand, the bomb had to be in the precise center of the tunnels, which was where Sheri now sat. The logic behind her plan was simple. Sheri needed the power of the blast to flow equally through the tunnels. It was her intention to blow off the tops of seven mountains, and create seven fresh volcanoes.
Yes, there would be seven, not six.
Because Pete’s Peak would explode with the others.
The Yanti Page 29
