The Shaktra

by Christopher Pike

  Time pressed on her more than the others could have guessed. No doubt Radrine planned to return to the red door by circling around to the top entrance of the cave. That would take time—the route was at least a dozen miles, probably more—but the queen could fly. Unlike last time, Ali had failed to damage Radrine’s wings. Ali just wished she had been able to kill her when she had been standing in front of her. She remembered the vow she had spoken in the cavern in front of the seven doors. The next time would be the last time for that monster.

  Yet Ali did not want to confront Radrine until she had healed some.

  While Ra worked on her, she swallowed about a third of her stardust.

  If it helped, she did not notice. All she felt was pain.

  Ra splashed a little rubbing alcohol on her palm and she almost jumped out of her body. “Ahhhh!” she cried.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  Ali sucked in a breath. “It’s all right.”

  “You’re not really a fairy, are you?”

  “It is hard to explain.”

  “You don’t have any wings.”

  She opened her eyes, smiled at him. “How do you know I don’t have wings?”

  For the first time, he smiled back. “You have courage, at least. . . Ali.”

  “So do you, Ra.”

  Ali closed her eyes again, let Ra do his work, and found herself thinking about Nira. She had thought about the girl most of the way up the mountain—her eyes especially, the spell they cast, the feeling of vastness behind them. When they had been alone together, with Freddy’s corpse, the Yanti had gotten so hot and then the body had moved, spoke that one word, “Shaktra.” It had said “Shaktra” just when she had asked Nira who she was.

  Had Nira been trying to tell her she was the Shaktra?

  Somehow that did not feel right. Nira intimidated her, but did not repel her, as she assumed the Shaktra would. No, Ali sensed, the Shaktra was tied up with the answer to that question, but was not the answer itself.

  The heat of the Yanti had not harmed Nira. Why? Seconds before the corpse had moved, Nira had grabbed the Yanti and Freddy’s hand. No, Ali strained to remember, first Nira had picked up the Yanti, placed it on her forehead, her heart, and then the top of her head. Ali felt her heart pound as she recalled the sequence. It felt familiar! She had done it herself! As a fairy! The name alone, Alosha, was not necessarily enough to activate the Yanti, not for certain jobs.

  Ali opened her eyes and sat up.

  She was suddenly sure she knew how to open the fourth door.

  “Hurry up,” she said to Ra, as he rolled the bandage around her outstretched hand. “I have to go back.”

  He was concerned. “Where?”

  “Back to the place I was before I came here,” she said.

  Ra was against the plan. He could see Farble and Paddy were real, and that she was probably telling the truth about the cave connecting to another place, but nevertheless he tried to persuade her to go down the mountain to a hospital. For an apprentice shaman he was practical. She stood when he finished with her hand, waved off his concerns.

  “There are things I have to do that can’t wait,” she said. “But I want to thank you for your help. You’ve been great.”

  “What are you going to do if you run into the demons again?”

  “I can take care of myself,” she said.

  Ra glanced at her hand. “Listen, I should go with you. Besides my sword, I have a bow and arrow. I am an excellent shot.”

  “I believe you, Ra. But with these dark fairies, I don’t think a bow and arrow is going to do much good.”

  Ra was proud. “I killed a lion with one shot. I was ten at the time.”

  Paddy was impressed. “Missy might need another hand, when her hand is sore and all.”

  Ali came close to Ra, sizing him up, glanced again at his climbing clothes. “How close to the top of Kilimanjaro are we?”

  “We’re almost at the top,” he said.

  “And you climbed up here all by yourself?”

  “I climbed up here pulling my uncle on a sled.” He added, “I”m stronger than most people my age.”

  “Why is that?”

  “I don’t know. But I do know I can help you, and that you are injured and need help. Take me with you.”

  “You don’t understand. We’re not just trying to return to our part of the world. If that were true, I would accept your offer and climb down the mountain with you and take a jet home. I’m trying to return my friends to their world. In another part of this cave there are magical doors, and one, I believe—if I can open it—will take me into their world.”

  Ra was puzzled. “You have not opened it before?”

  “It’s a long story, I don’t have time to go into it now. Suffice to say, if you come with us, your chances of dying are pretty good.”

  Ra remained stubborn. “I’m not afraid of dying.”

  “I used to think that. Until I ran into the dark fairies.”

  Ra shook his head. “You say I do not understand you. You do not understand me. These creatures killed my uncle. It was my uncle who raised me. I have to take vengeance on them.”

  “My goal is to get through this magical door. I will avoid the dark fairies if I can. Even if you come with me, it doesn’t mean you will have vengeance.” She added, “And that is not a reason to do anything.”

  Ra looked at his uncle’s ashes. “That is easy for you to say.”

  Ali sighed. “None of this is easy for me. Honestly, I would like your help. There is something about you—I don’t know what it is. But I sense that you do have your own power. But if you come, and you die, then how will I feel?”

  “The decision to risk my life is mine, not yours.” Ra studied Farble and Paddy. “This could be the adventure of a lifetime. If you leave without me, how can I hike back down to my village and go on with my simple life? It will feel so empty. Listen, I want to help you, I long for revenge, but I also want to see what you are going to see.” He added with feeling, “I need to see everything.”

  Ali understood his reasons. Had the roles been reversed, she would have wanted to go. Plus she was not sure what kind of force field she could project. Paddy could be right—she might need Ra’s bow and arrow, after all. She stared him in the eye.

  “All right, you can come,” she said. “But you have to know up front that I am in charge of this expedition. You can offer me your opinion, you can argue with me. But in the end, I decide what we do next. Understand?”

  “It is not our custom that a female should give the orders to a male.”

  “I don’t care about your customs. I only care about succeeding in my mission. Do you understand?”

  Ra hesitated. “Yes.”

  “Good. Get out of that skin, get your hiking clothes on, and let’s get out of here.”

  Ra was ready to leave within fifteen minutes. But he did take the time to pack up his altar and his uncle’s ashes, and hide them in a crack in the cave. He extinguished his torch, but brought out a flashlight and Ali was happy for the backup. But she told him to keep it off for the time being.

  They hiked deeper into the cave, with Ali leading the way, Paddy next, then Ra and Farble. Surprisingly, the troll and Ra hit it off right away. Ra spoke to him like he was a person and Farble nodded agreeably. Paddy, too, appeared comfortable with Ra, much more than he had ever been with Steve and Cindy.

  Ali didn’t know what to make of it.

  Because they were not racing, it took them forty minutes to reach the main cave. There was no sign of the dark fairies. Ali could not hear a sound in either direction. But she worried that Radrine might have set a trap for her. Ali pointed to the right, toward the cavern.

  “We don’t speak from here on, unless I say so,” she said.

  It took another hour to reach the seven doors, but Ali stopped short of the spot, killed the flashlight, and went forward alone. Even in the pitch black, she was surprised to discover she could see the walls, the flo
or; not well, but enough to get by. Her right hand continued to throb with pain, but the bandage helped. Yet she did not feel her force field flowing through her hand, and that was bad.

  Ali peered around the edge of the yellow door, into the cavern.

  Three dark fairies stood guard in front of the red door.

  It was still open. No surprise.

  Ali almost fainted. So was the green door!

  Radrine must have gone through it!

  Why? To warn the Shaktra that she was coming?

  Ali cursed silently. She had given Radrine too much time to circle around.

  She crept back to the others, spoke to them in the dark, explained the situation.

  “We have to take all three out at once,” she said. “Fortunately, there are rocks all over the floor. What we’re going to do is creep down to the yellow door, then burst through, and turn on our flashlights and blind them. Then, Farble, you and I’ll grab a big rock and throw it at them. In fact, Farble, you take out the dark fairy on your right.” She paused. “You know what your right is?”

  The troll nodded in the dark, but then shook his head.

  “Never mind, just hit one of the dark fairies and Ra and I will get the others. Ra, can you fit an arrow now, in the dark?”

  “I already have,” he said.

  “Good. Have your flashlight ready, too. Hold it in your mouth if you have to. Remember, the element of surprise is everything. We need to kill them before they can use their fire stones.”

  “Those are like phasers?” Ra asked.

  “Every bit as bad,” Ali said.

  “What should I do, Missy?” Paddy asked.

  “Just be yourself.”

  Hopefully prepared, they crept down the cave toward the yellow door. The three dark fairies were acting like they had been given easy duty. They appeared to be joking with one another—it came across as a flock of ravens cackling over a rotting rabbit. Ali could hear them from far away.

  When Ali’s team reached the edge of the door, she did not give anyone on either side a chance to think. Turning on her flashlight, she leapt into the cavern and pointed the beam at the dark fairies, before reaching down and picking up a fair-sized rock with her right hand. Yes, despite the fact that it was killing her, she used it because she had the flashlight in her left hand and she trusted her right arm—even with limp fingers attached to it—to deliver a fastball better than her left.

  The dark fairies were raising their fire stones when Ali hit the one on the left in the face. The blow was perfectly thrown—the fairy’s evil expression turned to benign pulp. Simultaneously, she saw the fairy in the center go down with an arrow through his throat. But Farble missed with his throw and the fairy on the right was given time to take aim at Ali. She was the only one the creature had eyes for. Ali saw the fire stone glow, prepared to leap to the side.

  Then a second arrow struck it in the chest and it fell dead.

  Purple blood soaked the filthy floor and it stank.

  Stunned, Ali turned to Ra. “How did you reload so fast?” she asked.

  Holding his wooden bow, he shrugged. “A shaman’s secret.”

  Searching the area, Ali found the fire stones that she had carried up the mountain, undamaged beneath some rubble. It was clear Radrine had not had time to scour the floor when she had returned or else she would not have left them behind. That made Ali even more confident that Radrine had been in a hurry to enter the green door ahead of her. But why had she left the door unlocked?

  Was Radrine deliberately baiting her to follow?

  One thing was for sure, Ali did not want to leave the red door open. Asking the others to stand at a discreet distance, she took out the Yanti, held it in her right hand, put her left palm on the red door, chanted the word “Alosha” softly, placed the Yanti on her forehead, her heart, and then on top of her head—while all the time, inside, she silently commanded the red door to lock. Finally, when she was done, she opened her eyes.

  The door was still open.

  “Having trouble, Missy?” Paddy called behind her.

  “Hush,” she said.

  “She’s still learning to be a fairy,” Paddy explained to Ra.

  Again, Ali tried to remember exactly how Nira had handled the Yanti when she had caused the corpse to stir. It took her a few moments, but then she had it. Nira, with her tiny right hand, had purposely placed the tips of her fingers on the inside triangle when she had put the Yanti to her forehead. Then she had moved her fingers to the seven-sided exterior when she had held the Yanti over her heart. Finally, at the top of the head, Nira had held the Yanti with one finger, the middle finger, over the Yanti’s central diamond.

  Ali repeated the process, with Nira’s addition. The rapid movement of the fingers took skill and, with her injured palm, she messed up the first few times. But on the sixth try she got it right, and the red door closed.

  Finally, the door to hell was shut.

  Ali gestured for the others to join her in front of the green door. Beyond it, all she could see was another dark cave. “When we go through, should I lock the door behind us?” she asked.

  “Can you open it from the other side if you do?” Ra asked.

  “Beats me,” Ali replied.

  The four of them stared at each other in the dark.

  “Leave it open then,” Ra said finally.

  She teased. “Afraid I won’t be coming back with you?”

  Ra shrugged. “Who knows?”

  Ali considered, then nodded. “We will leave it open, for now.”

  Together, the four of them stepped through the green door.

  CHAPTER

  11

  Before visiting Rose and Nira for lunch, Steve and Cindy tried to talk to Hector Wells—infamous boyfriend of the late Lucy Pillar and Patricia Hassel. They found his address in the phone book, went to his house, knocked, but there was no answer. Cindy acted relieved.

  “He’s not going to spill his guts to us about his past because we babysat Nira for a few hours,” she told Steve, as they climbed off the porch. “And he’s not going to care that we’re writing a paper for school on the plant explosion.”

  Hector’s house was tiny but elegant; it showed signs a contractor lived inside. The brickwork on the walls and porch was flawless, and the doubled-paned windows were expensive. The cedar shingles used to form the roof were old world—they even smelled good—and the landscaping showed exquisite care.

  “We’ll need an angle to get him to talk,” Steve agreed, glancing at his watch. “We better get up to Rose’s.”

  “The house belongs to Sheri Smith,” Cindy corrected him, as they hurried down the block toward the company headquarters. Rose had told them that the house was located directly behind Omega, in the trees. Cindy added, “Wonder if she’ll be there?”

  “I’d like to meet her,” Steve said.

  “What if she’s the one who sent the e-mails to Karl?”

  “So much the better.”

  Cindy stopped him. “You don’t mean that. We’re going against Ali’s advice just being here. She told us Ms. Smith might be dangerous.”

  Steve nodded. “If she’s the one who had Karl kidnap Ali’s mother, she’s going to be dangerous.”

  “Then why are we doing this? What’s your plan?”

  “I don’t have one. We’re just here to gather information for Ali.”

  Cindy considered. “I think I’m here for Nira.”

  “I’ve noticed that you like that little girl. Feel sorry for her?”

  “It’s not that. For some reason, I feel close to her. Like I want to protect her.”

  “From whom?” Steve asked.

  “It’s just a feeling is all. But her autism throws me. You saw how much more animated she was around Ali?”

  Steve nodded. “Maybe the Yanti helped the girl.”

  “Ali said Nira had power over the Yanti.”

  “Yeah, but she did not explain why she said that.” Steve added, “I like Nira,
too. When she stares at me, I don’t feel she’s dumb.”

  Actually, when she stared at him, he felt happy.

  “Didn’t you say autism and retardation were two separate things?”

  “Some autistic people can be geniuses. But they’re not able to express themselves. Their minds don’t connect with their bodies. They’re all bottled up inside.”

  “Ali was fascinated by that scar between her eyebrows.”

  Steve nodded. “It doesn’t look natural.”

  The day was warm and sunny; they were both sweating by the time they climbed the long winding driveway to the Smith residence. It was largely uphill, through a pretty stretch of woods. Steve was not surprised to see that the home mimicked the architecture of the main headquarters. The place was all glass and cubes, wonderful for views, but hell on the furnace in the winter. He found the ultramodern look sterile, at odds with the green trees, and wondered what type of person would want to live in such a home.

  Rose met them at the door, wearing a simple black dress and looking more relaxed than the day before. She explained that they had the house to themselves—except for Nira. The cook and the cleaning staff had already left for the day.

  “Marge made a wonderful lunch before she left,” Rose said, leading them deeper into the house, tugging at her elbow-length black gloves along the way. Steve found the white furniture as bland as the exterior. The dining room was a savior, however. There was a nice wooden table that overlooked downtown Toule, and there were plants in the corners. Rose had them sit, said they could have anything they wanted to drink. Cindy asked for a Coke, Steve, coffee. Rose chuckled as she walked toward the nearby kitchen.

  “A man after my own heart. I drink six cups a day, all of it from Colombia,” she said. “Makes me think of home.”

  “Do you ever go back?” Steve asked through the kitchen door as she fiddled with the coffeepot. Rose glanced over.

  “Who would look after Nira?” she asked, surprised.

  “But you must take time off?” Cindy said.

  Rose shook her head. “I told you yesterday, Nira is my life now.”

  “Is she going to be joining us for lunch?” Steve asked.