The Yanti

by Christopher Pike

  “Geea rigged the mountains around Lake Mira with takor, causing the walls sheltering the watery valley to collapse. As we speak, water—as deep as the ocean—is flooding Uleestar.”

  “Will it wash the palace away?” Ra asked.

  General Tapor shook his head. “Doubtful. This building was carved out of a single giant crystal. It is heavy.”

  “But everything inside it will be flushed away,” Lord Vak added grimly.

  Lord Balar sighed. “All those riches . . . so much gold and jewels. What a waste.”

  Lord Vak nodded. “Geea’s wiser than I gave her credit for. She used Doren’s lust for the beauty and riches of this capital against her.” He added, “Geea will drown her sister’s army.”

  There was soon lots of evidence to support Lord Vak’s claim.

  A hundred cracks in the ceiling spouted narrow sprays of water, but the basic integrity of the cavern remained. The pulse of the miniature ocean, as it raked overhead, was like a beating heart. In a sense, Geea had used an old trick on her enemy—merely repackaged it in a new form. She had invited her enemy into a supposedly safe sanctuary, and then abruptly changed it into a place of cold death.

  Ra could not help noticing that the water sprinkling down on them was well below freezing. Then he recalled how Amma had explained that the magnetism of the levitating kloudar—floating so near Lake Mira—kept it from freezing. The cold was just another way Geea was going to wipe out Doren’s monstrous army.

  For a time, Ra feared Geea had done all this at the expense of her own life, but then she came blazing out of the long darkness of the now empty tunnel. As she arrived, everyone cheered, celebrating the fact that the war was over. But Geea shook her head and told them that the battle was not finished. The majority of the drones, the scaliis, the marked thralls, and the dark fairies, were dead or fleeing. Yet the Shaktra still lived.

  “The Shaktra is on its way here now!” she shouted.

  Lord Vak leapt up with his black spear. “We’ll stand together and meet it as one!”

  “Aye!” Lord Balar cried. “My ax craves the witch’s blood!”

  Geea flew near them and took out her sword. Smoothing her hand over the sharp blade, she shook her head. “I think it’s best if I met her alone,” she said.

  “Why?” Ra asked.

  “Because she’ll possess powers that only she and the Entity know of.”

  “More the reason we fight with you,” Lord Vak insisted.

  “We all have a score we’d like to settle with that creature,” General Tapor said, perhaps for the first time in his life questioning his queen’s orders.

  Geea went to respond, but suddenly halted in midair. Scanning the vast crowd, she frowned. “Where is Amma?” she demanded in a voice that was heard far off.

  No one knew for sure, but there were two elementals present who had an idea. It was Paddy and Farble who finally wiggled their way to the front of the crowd.

  “Amma went with Drash to Denzy,” Paddy said.

  Geea was shocked. “Why?”

  Farble growled. “Love Geea’s Amma.”

  “Tell me where Amma is,” Geea demanded.

  The leprechaun was uncertain. “Paddy heard them talking. Something about Ali’s father. Amma told the dragon that the good man would not be able to bear the loneliness if all of you ladies should be gone. Or else if you be killed.” Paddy scratched his green head. “She said something like that, Paddy thinks.”

  Geea flew near the leprechaun and troll, who stared up at her fearfully.

  “You’re friends of Amma. Why didn’t you stop her?” Geea demanded.

  Paddy trembled. “Excuse me, Missy, I mean, Queen Geea. But no high fairy would listen to a leprechaun or a troll.”

  “What does Denzy have to do with Ali’s father?” Geea muttered to herself.

  Paddy nervously added, “Queen Geea, Paddy does not think she was interested in the kloudar. Only in where it was going.”

  Geea’s face darkened. “And where might that be?”

  Paddy blinked anxiously. “She spoke of it going beyond Anglar.”

  “What did she say exactly? Tell me!” Geea demanded.

  “Paddy don’t know! Amma just said she needed to go that way!”

  CHAPTER

  21

  Cindy and her gang finally reached the place in the cave where the three metal doors were arranged, set one beside the other, in a modest semicircle. To make room for the doors, the cave had been forced to swell in size. The doors were plain rectangles, devoid of markings, although each had a dome-like curve at the top.

  Cindy knew Ali still considered the three doors a mystery, although she hinted that they might be connected to time travel. Ali was never given a chance to test her theory because the only door that she could open was the central one—and that definitely led to the present.

  Their gang met with the same failure. Mr. Warner and Mr. Havor tried yanking on the other two doors without success. It was as if the knobs had frozen in place ages ago. There was certainly no place to insert a key.

  “Let’s continue to the seven doors,” Cindy said. “Those are the ones Ali said lead to the other dimensions.”

  They pushed on the central door. It swung open soundlessly—all two feet thick of it. Cindy wondered why the door had to be so thick. What did it keep in? What did it keep out?

  From her last trip, Cindy knew it took two hours to hike from the three doors to the seven. What she had conveniently forgotten was that—after the three doors—the cave inclined sharply, and the air got much thinner. They had to stop for frequent water and rest breaks. Even with Nira helping Mr. Warner and Cindy with her magical energy boosts, the two of them struggled.

  Mr. Havor, in particular, suffered. His white skin took on a blue tinge. But he didn’t complain—it was not his nature—nor did his seeing-eye dog, Terry. Then again, Cindy thought, since Terry was dead, he had no right to complain.

  It made her sick just to be near him. She struggled to bring up the topic with Nira. Isolating her at the rear of the slow-moving caravan, Cindy tried to explain the accident at Toule, pointing out the fact that Nira herself had been there.

  The child was not in the mood to talk.

  “We need to reach the seven doors,” Nira said.

  “Then what?” Cindy asked.

  “Then everything will be fine.”

  “But this guy, Terry . . .” He was a corpse, she wanted to scream!

  Nira put a finger to her lips, as if to “shh” her.

  The child’s lack of interest did nothing to calm Cindy’s nerves.

  All she could do was stay as far away from Terry as possible.

  Finally, they reached the cavern that held the seven doors, which were arranged in a semicircle. Like the other three, they were made of metal, but they had handles instead of frozen knobs. Each door was a different color. Starting on the far left they proceeded in the order of the spectrum . . .

  Red. Orange. Yellow. Green. Blue. Violet. White.

  Well, the last actually covered the whole visible spectrum.

  Nira did an odd thing when they reached the cavern. Moving to the white door, she knelt before it and closed her eyes and folded her palms. Then she stood and placed both hands on the door, finally pressing her forehead against the white portal. She stayed in that position for several minutes. No one spoke to her or interrupted her. No one had the nerve, Cindy thought.

  Finally, Nira turned and stared at each of them individually.

  “So here we are,” she asked. “What shall we do? What do you want?”

  Mr. Warner spoke in halting tones. “I’d like—if possible—to see my wife again. To at least say goodbye to her. I never got to do that.” He added, “But most of all I’m worried about Ali. I want to see her. I’m afraid she’s alone up here, fighting that Sheri Smith woman.” He paused. “Do you know anything about that?”

  Nira nodded and turned to Cindy. “What do you want?”

  “
I just want to get out of here!” Cindy blurted out.

  Nira continued to stare at her. Apparently the answer was not good enough.

  Cindy composed her thoughts. “Well, what I’d like to do is help end this war as soon as possible. So the least number of people have to die.”

  Nira turned to Mr. Havor. “What’s on your mind?”

  “I’m here to stop Sheri Smith from detonating the nuclear warhead.”

  Cindy had to ask herself how he knew Nira was talking to him.

  The answer did not impress Nira. She stared at him hard.

  “Don’t you want your eyes back? You keep your glasses on because they’re gone, aren’t they? Someone burned them out of your head.”

  Mr. Havor frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “This is crazy!” he said, annoyed.

  “You did it yourself. You burned out your own eyes.”

  The blind man shook his head angrily. “Where is this conversation headed? I’m not here because of myself.”

  Nira nodded. “A puppet does not worry much when its strings are pulled. Do you know why?”

  “Nira. If you’re even her. I . . .” Mr. Havor began.

  “Because it’s only a puppet,” Nira interrupted.

  “You’re talking nonsense,” Mr. Havor said, sharpening his tone. “I don’t even know who you are. The Nira I’ve known all these years could not talk. There’s no way you can be her. I don’t know where you came from or what you want. But somehow you’ve fooled these decent people into thinking you have some kind of special knowledge or power. You sound like a little devil to me.”

  “You don’t trust me, that’s fine,” Nira said. “I don’t trust you.” Nira pointed to Terry. “I don’t trust him, either, although it’s not his fault that he’s here. As Cindy has pointed out, I was at the morgue when we examined his body. You, Mr. Havor, believe it was your kind that gave him the energy so that he might walk again, and behave as your puppet. But it was I who touched him with the Yanti.” Nira drew out the Yanti and held it out for all to see. She stared at Mr. Havor. “Isn’t this what you really came here for?” she asked.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied.

  “Do you, Cindy?” Nira asked.

  “I saw this Terry guy get hit with an SUV. He had his skull cracked wide open. That was just a few days ago,” Cindy said. “And now he’s here, climbing mountains.”

  “Are you serious?” Mr. Warner asked, startled. “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “Like what? We have a dead-zombie-dude as a hiking buddy?” Cindy asked.

  Nira continued to focus on Mr. Havor, the Yanti in her right hand. It was almost as if she were offering it to him. She spoke in a soft voice. “Yesterday, I listened as we escaped Breakwater and went into hiding. In the car, as we drove south along the coast, I heard Ali talk about what happened at the meeting at the police station. You see, I can know many things, but even though I’m of the violet ray, there are still things in this world that are hidden from me. As we left town, I wasn’t sure who was the Entity’s agent on Earth. On the surface it appeared to be my mother, but that was unlikely. She had too much desire to be in control. Even after all these years, she still didn’t understand that the Entity allowed no one else to be in charge. Mother did not know she would be killed the instant they were finished with her.”

  “Nira, I’m not sure . . .” Mr. Warner began.

  “Let her finish!” Cindy said.

  Nira’s eyes never left Mr. Havor. “When Ali spoke of how time stood still in the police station, I knew immediately she was dealing with a powerful radiation—beyond the green or blue vibrations. My mother does not have the power to stop time. Plus you gave yourself away in another way—that was really kind of dumb.”

  Mr. Havor acted bored. “What was this dumb thing I did?”

  “My mother put a sleeping spell on the people at the police station. You took it one step further and stopped time. You wanted to give Ali the impression she was facing an enemy that couldn’t be defeated. But you made a mistake. While time was frozen for all of you—you took a nap.”

  “So?” Mr. Havor asked.

  “You snored. Ali told the others that but missed its significance. If time was truly stopped, then how could you be snoring? It takes time to snore. The only answer that made sense was . . . you were unaffected by the spell because you were the one who caused it. Also, you are the one who has kept us from being able to call Ali.” Nira held the Yanti higher. “Isn’t this what you want? Isn’t this why you’re here?”

  There was a long pause. Finally Mr. Havor smiled.

  He reached up and removed his dark sunglasses.

  He had no eyes. Just burnt black holes.

  However, between his eyebrows, Cindy saw what she thought was the tip of a purple crystal. It looked like an amethyst—a sharp shard embedded in his forehead. He shook his head in answer to Nira’s question.

  “You are mistaken,” he replied in a voice much deeper and colder than anything they were accustomed to. He sounded more machine than human. “The Yanti might be of benefit to us, that remains to be seen. Certainly we will leave here with it. But when you ask what it is we want most . . .” He glanced at Terry, then back to Nira. “It is your head.”

  Terry had removed a rusty machete from the folds of his smelly sweatshirt. Mr. Warner went to rush him. “Stop!” Nira commanded.

  Everyone in the cavern stopped, not just Ali’s father.

  “Who’s the puppet here?” Nira asked Mr. Havor.

  Mr. Havor shook his head. “Your mother is still under our control. But you are right, soon she will have to be eliminated for the reasons you’ve stated. But the body you see here—it’s more than an agent for the Entity. Long ago, the personality that inhabited this form made a deal with us. It was made directly online. He found us, we found him. His name was Peter Traver. He was what you would’ve called the consummate hacker. He desired nothing more than to immerse himself in the most advanced technologies of his time. He was obsessed with computers and software, and as you might know, obsession is really only a step away from possession. When he contacted us, he found a source of information and knowledge far richer than anything he had dreamed possible. Peter was enthralled.”

  “And so he became your thrall?” Nira asked.

  “Naturally. He was happy at first.”

  “Then you made him burn out his eyes,” Nira said.

  “We always demand a sacrifice of those who join us.”

  “Was he happy then?”

  The blind man merely shrugged. Nira nodded to herself and continued. Cindy knew her next words were for their benefit.

  “So the Entity does not mind revealing a quality it usually prefers to keep hidden. You do not merely desire control. You are not here just to save planet Earth. You feed off of pain and fear. That’s your ulterior as well as your ultimate motivation.”

  “To us they are inseparable.” Mr. Havor shrugged again. “A deal requires an exchange of goods. Peter Traver gave us his eyes. Lucy Pillar offered us hundreds of burnt bodies.”

  “But she did not give you the body of my father,” Nira said.

  Cindy understood she was talking about Hector Wells.

  Lucy Pillar had helped him survive the power plant explosion.

  “That showed her lack of commitment,” Mr. Havor said. “A weakness.”

  “A weakness to you, maybe. But to me it showed a hidden strength.”

  Mr. Havor mocked her. “You say that because she’s your mother.”

  Nira was not flustered. “It showed the flaw in your design.”

  “How so?”

  “Is it not obvious? You let me be born. You let me come here, right now, into this place.” Nira added, “Even now you do not understand what a mistake that was.”

  Mr. Havor smiled and gestured to the yellow door. “Beyond that door there is a bomb and your mo
ther. Both are well protected. But even if your mother turns on us now, or is overcome by Ali, she cannot prevent the bomb from exploding.”

  “Because you adjusted it?” Nira said.

  “We adjusted it after we helped Sheri Smith purchase it.”

  “You made the initial contact with General Kabrosh?”

  “He was flattered to be made the star of a bestselling game.”

  Nira nodded. “And now he is dead.”

  “Yes, now he is dead. Just as soon, all of you will be dead.” Mr. Havor turned to Terry. “Take the head of the child now, and the Yanti. The others won’t interfere. They cannot move.”

  With the mere utterance of his words, Cindy discovered she couldn’t move.

  Mr. Warner stared at her in desperation. He couldn’t move, either.

  Cindy tried to scream for help. Her lips would not move.

  “When you have her head, then you may kill the others,” Mr. Havor said.

  Terry lifted up his rusty machete, preparing to strike Nira. The child didn’t flinch, merely stared into his blank eyes. Oddly enough, a spark appeared in the depths of his eyes. The guy hesitated as Nira spoke to him.

  “I only touched you with the Yanti in the morgue so that you would not leave this world marked. This man came for you later, and reactivated your flesh for his own selfish purposes. To strike me or my friends down is to further his purposes. Your body—even though it is technically dead—remembers certain morals that you used to live by. For that reason, I’m not here to give you orders. I won’t try to take control of you. All I’m going to do is remove the controls that have been placed on you. Then you can choose what you want to do. Honestly, it is all up to you. You can chop off my head, or you can take his.”

  Terry stopped, lowered the machete. He may have been a mere corpse, yet his flesh strove with serious emotions. He turned toward Mr. Havor, then back to Nira. He was clearly confused.