Ali hesitated. “Not exactly.”
There was a long silence, and it must have seemed the longest to Drash. The koul had unwound his long dark body from the stairway, and crawled to where the bulk of the ruined boats lay floundering, but he was unable to force himself closer to the water. Ali walked up to his side.
“Your father is not here to know if you pass or fail this test,” she said. “But if you do pass it, and the next one, I’m sure that one day soon you’ll be able to face your father and confront him about the horrible things he’s doing with the Shaktra. He might listen to you then, because you’ll no longer be just a koul.” Ali added, “You’re tired of being one, aren’t you?”
He nodded. “Drash is too old to remain in this type of body.”
“Then let’s climb on your back, and you slip into the water, and we will be on our way to Uleestar. When we get there, and you rest this night, you will change again, and in the morning you will be capable of breathing fire.”
Drash stared at her in wonder. “But you admit you have not seen this in a vision?”
Ali shook her head. “Visions have their limits. They can’t always save you when your back’s to the wall, and our back is to the wall now. It’s your heart and your courage that’s going to allow us to continue on our quest.”
Drash was curious. “What exactly do you seek, Geea?”
Ali hesitated. “Peace.”
They climbed on Drash’s back, even Farble, who seemed to understand they were in a desperate situation. Ali rode up front, near the koul’s head, like the night before, but she did not give him any more time to think about what he had to do. When they were all settled, she told him to swim. Drash crawled to the edge of the gently flowing black river and carefully touched the water.
“But I don’t know how to swim,” he said.
“It’s like riding a bicycle. No one knows how to do it until they do it.”
Drash glanced up at her. “What is a bicycle?”
Ali laughed. “I don’t think it’s something a dragon would be interested in.”
Drash appeared to believe her, in all ways. Turning toward the water, he slid off the shore and into the river, and it was only for a moment, a few heart-stopping seconds, that it seemed he would sink and they would all drown. But then he lifted up his head, a dozen feet above the water line, wiggled his long smooth body, and slipped into the flow of the current, and they were finally on their way to the heart of the fairy kingdom.
CHAPTER
18
They were led down a dark stairway, into a wide basement, and from there they took another stairway that was covered with dust and made of rusted metal, and which appeared much older. As they went deeper into the earth, Karl holding the switchblade at Steve’s neck, Steve saw that they were entering a series of damaged caves that must have spread out like an ant farm beneath the old power plant. If he looked closely, he could see signs of the explosion: burnt gas tanks, twisted and darkened pipes, piles of ashes. How weird, he thought, that Ms. Smith had seen fit to build her mansion on the town’s old scar. There was a cruelty in the woman that went way beyond reason.
Not that Karl was in a friendly mood. Whenever Steve stumbled, the jerk kicked him and pressed his blade deeper into his neck. For that matter, Karl had already cut him. Steve could feel the faint trickle of warm blood drying on the sweating skin of his throat.
Ms. Smith had a grip on Cindy, and wasn’t treating her any better, although the woman appeared strong enough to not need a weapon. As if she were dragging a paper doll into her own private dungeon, Ms. Smith held Cindy by her hair and was happy to yank it when the mood struck her. Yet Steve was proud that Cindy did not cry out. Their courage was probably all they had left, and Steve was not sure how long that was going to last.
He just hoped Ali was able to rescue them soon.
In a poorly lit reddish cave that looked like it could have been carved out of a Martian mountain, they were chained to the hard walls with iron shackles that might have been a popular item back during the gold rush. Their arms were locked above their heads and out to their sides, in a vague crucifixion posture, although their feet remained planted on the ground. Karl was the one to lock them up, and when he was done he took a step back to admire his handiwork. What struck Steve was how little Karl had changed. With his blond hair and blue eyes, and substantial muscles, he looked like the same jock Steve had always despised at school. Karl even appeared to have on the same clothes he had worn when they had hiked up the mountain together a month ago.
Yet Karl was not the same, or else Steve was finally seeing him for the first time. He had the identical cold light in his eyes as Ms. Smith, and the way he clapped his hands and grinned at their discomfort, Steve knew he was dealing with a psychopath who was capable of anything. But hadn’t Ali warned them? The guy had kidnapped her mother, after all. They’d had plenty of warnings from the start that they were getting in over their heads. Now look where they were. Steve could not get over the guilt he felt at dragging Cindy into this situation.
“How do you feel?” Ms. Smith asked sweetly, as Karl paced behind her.
“Lunch was good,” Steve said. “Things have sort of gone downhill since then.”
“Why are you doing this to us?” Cindy demanded.
“I told you, I don’t like spies,” Ms. Smith replied.
“We are not spies,” Steve said.
Ms. Smith came closer, and once again, like upstairs, he had trouble focusing on her. He assumed it was the poor light—there was a kerosene lantern in the corner and that was it—or that there was something wrong with his eyes. But the more he stared at her face, the less real it seemed, and the more fluid it appeared.
He felt as if he was gazing at a TV screen.
“I think Ali sent you here,” Ms. Smith said.
Steve considered carefully. He did not want to drag Ali into their mess—unless it was to fry this monster—but he needed some type of leverage.
“She knows we’re here, but so do other people,” he replied. “Cindy was telling the truth when she said we have another appointment in town. If we don’t show, people will come looking for us, and those same people know we were supposed to have lunch with you this afternoon.”
Ms. Smith smiled thinly. “Your friend has a gift. Perhaps she has told you about it, perhaps not. She might have been afraid to make you uncomfortable in her presence. That gift is the ability to hear when the truth is spoken. I have it myself, and I know you’re lying to me. You’ve just told me that Ali suspects you’re here, but that she’s not sure. As far as other people knowing about your lunch date with me, that’s another lie.” Ms. Smith paused. “Am I right?”
Steve shrugged. “If you’re so sure of your gift, why do you need to ask?”
Ms. Smith reached out and touched his chin with her gloved hand, and he flinched at the contact. It was as if she had used a sharp nail to cut him, but she had barely brushed him. Her pretty mouth showed amusement, her green eyes showed nothing.
“You’re a smart young man, I can see that. I like that,” she said. “But smart is not the same as being wise. You have been caught, you are in a precarious position. The wise thing for you to do right now would be to cooperate with me.”
Steve met her gaze. “And if we don’t?”
“You’ll experience pain. Horrible pain.” Ms. Smith added, “Do you know what that is like? No, you’re young, of course you don’t. But I can assure you that it does not matter how brave you are, how strong your will is. There is a limit to how much pain any human being can withstand. After that they crack—they all crack. You understand what I’m saying?”
Steve swallowed, nodded. “What do you want?”
“Information about your dear friend Ali. Give it to me and I’ll let you go. I’ll even let you finish your lunch. How does that sound?”
“Ali keeps her private business to herself,” Steve said.
Ms. Smith chuckled, and looked at Karl. “
This boy is much more interesting than you let on to me, Karl. He never answers a question directly.”
Karl stopped pacing and glared at Steve. “Because he’s a fat coward.”
Ms. Smith shook her head. “I think there is more to him than meets the eye. I think the same about Cindy here. Honestly, I admire you young people, trying to help Ali save the world. But at the same time I do need to know certain things, and I want your answers to start flowing soon.” Ms. Smith paused. “Where is Ali right now?”
Steve coughed. “Beats me.”
Ms. Smith glanced at Cindy. “Where is Ali?”
Cindy snickered. “Go stuff yourself!”
Ms. Smith nodded slowly to herself. “Ali has entered the elemental kingdom, in search of her mother. I know this already.”
“Then why did you ask?” Steve asked.
Ms. Smith was cheerful. “Think of it as a test, one you just failed. That is okay, the first test was not so important to me. But here comes the second one, and it is very important. If you fail it, you will start that horrible suffering I told you about. Ready?”
“Ali really does keep what is important to herself,” Steve said quickly.
“How far do Ali’s suspicions of me go?” Ms. Smith asked.
“I do not understand the question,” Steve said.
“It is a pretty vague question,” Cindy added.
Ms. Smith nodded. “In a way, it is an abstract question. Yet you two rode a bus to Toule with her, and you must have talked about me on the way. What did she have to say?”
“She said almost nothing,” Steve said. “She had not met you at that time.”
Ms. Smith shook her head. “What if I told you that was not true? That I met Ali before she even came here. But that once she was here, I carefully avoided contact with her.”
Steve shrugged. “I wouldn’t argue with you about it.”
Ms. Smith grew hard. “Has she ever referred to me as the Shaktra?”
“What’s that?” Steve asked.
Ms. Smith reached in her back pocket, took out a red Bic lighter. Holding it directly in front of his eyes, she flicked the flame into life, even as her cold voice came through the fire like fog through a broken windowpane.
“You have heard the word before,” she said. “Ali has spoken it in your presence, and you lie to me when you deny it. But I told you, the time for lying is over. I’m going to ask one last time. Did Ali ever refer to me as the Shaktra?”
Steve trembled. “She was curious about you, that’s all.”
Ms. Smith smiled, nodded, and then let the flame drift slowly up toward his right hand. Steve felt the heat on his palm, at first just a pleasant warmth, although he was too afraid to look at what she was doing. But then he felt a sharp stab of pain, and heard an ugly sizzling noise. He tried to jerk his hand away but of course it was locked in place. A nauseating odor filled his nose. He knew what it was, he was smelling his own burnt flesh! Even though he tried, he could not stop himself from letting out a loud scream. Ms. Smith withdrew the lighter, put it out, lowered her head close to his.
“Now, please, tell me if Ali thought I might be the Shaktra?” she said.
Steve had tears in his eyes, agony in his palm. “I don’t know,” he mumbled.
Ms. Smith shook her head. “I’m afraid that’s not good enough.”
“Yeah, she thought you were the Shaktra, what’s the big deal?” Cindy blurted out.
Ms. Smith looked over. “You find it hard to watch your friend suffer? That’s a noble quality, also a weakness. But I’m glad you’re in a mood to talk. I have questions for you as well, Cindy, and I have a different colored lighter in my pocket specifically for you. Amazing toys, aren’t they? Spend three bucks in a drugstore and you get a whole packet of them. Yet they’re capable of bringing the strongest man on Earth to his knees.”
Cindy was bitter, but also terrified. “You will not get away with this,” she said.
Ms. Smith put away the red lighter, took out a green one, and casually strolled to Cindy’s side. “Tell me how Ali escaped Radrine’s lair inside the mountain?” she asked.
Cindy stared at her. “I don’t know.”
Ms. Smith nodded. “The truth, good. Did Ali ever speak to you about Radrine?”
Cindy closed her mouth tight, but Steve felt compelled to speak.
“She told us that Radrine was the queen of the dark fairies, that’s all,” he said.
Ms. Smith stood between them. “Did Ali talk to you about the time distortion that she experienced on the other side of the red door?” she asked.
“She mentioned it,” Steve said.
“That’s all? She did not explain how she used it to get away from Radrine?”
“We told you, we know nothing about this Radrine except her name,” Cindy said.
Ms. Smith stared at her. “You were on top of the mountain with Ali when the elemental army entered this world. According to Karl, you were close to Ali when she first picked up the Yanti, and then activated it for her own purposes and sent the elves and the dwarves back into their world. Now I’m going to ask you another question, and this one is more important to me than all the others combined. If you fail to answer it, I will get very angry, and that is not a sight either of you want to see. Do you understand?”
Cindy glared past her, at Karl. “Ali should have killed you when she had the chance.”
Karl snickered. “Ali is too weak to kill someone like me.”
“Shut up, Karl,” Ms. Smith said, closing in on Cindy, her green lighter in her hand. “Tell me, Cindy, how did Ali activate the Yanti?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Cindy said.
Ms. Smith paused, surprised. “But you were close to her. You must have heard her say something to the Yanti. A word? A chant?”
Cindy lowered her head. “I didn’t hear her say anything.”
Ms. Smith suddenly flicked the lighter to life, and Steve sucked in a terrified breath of air. Yet the woman made no move to attack either of them. She seemed to be thinking. It was clear that she sensed Cindy was telling the truth.
Nira suddenly appeared; she was like a flash of light in the darkness. Hurrying to her mother’s side, she grabbed her hand and tugged on it, even as the witch stood in the center of the room contemplating what she should ask next, and whom she should burn. But then Ms. Smith shrugged, as if weary of the subject, and gave in to Nira’s demand for attention. It made Steve sick to his stomach to see the woman reach down and brush the girl’s short red hair. It was obvious to him right then that Ms. Smith must have the same bright red–colored hair as her daughter—that she had only dyed it to hide the fact.
Hide the fact that she was a fairy?
Who was Ms. Smith, he wondered?
“I’m afraid these questions will have to wait until later,” Ms. Smith said. “My daughter is hungry and there are things I must attend to at the office.”
“Do you want me to stay and torture them?” Karl asked hopefully.
“No. I want you to go sit in a room and cause no trouble.” With Nira in hand, Ms. Smith walked back toward the way they had entered the cave. But she called over her shoulder. “Don’t think you’re getting off easy. Slow growing pain can be the most effective, and within an hour I’m afraid you’ll find that the muscle spasms in your arms are close to unbearable. Honestly, Steve, Cindy, the next time we chat I think you’ll be far more cooperative.”
Steve called out before she disappeared. “What was your name when you went to high school here?” he asked.
Ms. Smith turned and blushed. It was almost as if she were shy to admit the truth.
“You mean, you haven’t guessed?” she said.
“No,” he said.
“I was Hector Wells’s girlfriend.”
Steve nodded grimly. “You are Lucy Pillar.”
“Perhaps. Whoever I am, I’m not the person I used to be.”
With that, Ms. Smith left them alone in the dark cave.
; CHAPTER
19
The cavern above Tiena was dome-shaped, and made up of large gray stones, each set with black cement in an exquisite arc that spanned the exact width of the river. Once more Ali was sure she was staring at the handiwork of the fairies, and she wondered how many years it had taken her people to erect the lengthy tunnel around the subterranean river. For that matter, she wondered how old the elemental civilization itself was. Five thousand years? A million? She leaned toward the former, sensed its history probably paralleled humanity’s. Then again, she thought, there were many scholars on Earth who felt there had been civilizations long before the Egyptians and the Sumerians.
Drash, what a crazy boat he made for them all. The odd thing was, the longer he swam, the more he seemed to enjoy it. He even began to tell her about his favorite foods. Apparently he loved what sounded like apples and bananas. For some reason, she was relieved to learn he was a vegetarian. But from the sound of it, so were fairies and elves, and that depressed her. She wasn’t ready to give up her bacon and eggs in the morning!
The way was long but no one complained. They were all happy that Drash was keeping them afloat—plus they were covering tremendous ground. Tiena flowed at only half the speed of Lestre, but in combination with Drash’s swimming, they were probably going twenty miles an hour.
Ali did not have a watch, but estimated they had been on Drash’s back for five hours when she spotted the torch up on their right. As they grew nearer, she saw a harbor similar to the one they had left behind at the south entrance to Tiena, yet this port was undamaged. There was a whole fleet of untouched wooden rowboats. The sight was reassuring, but not nearly as much as the two fairies waving the torch at them. It was clear to Ali that she and her pals were expected.
Drash swam them to the sandy shore, on the side of the wooden planks that made up part of the harbor, and Ali and her friends dismounted. Ra carried a torch, and was the only one to accompany Ali as she approached the two tall fairies—a man and a woman, both with long red hair, green eyes, white robes, and loving faces that seemed so familiar that she came close to weeping. These two had not been marked. Indeed, their faces shone with an enchanting green light that made her feel small next to them. Yet they bowed low as she came near.
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