The Yanti (30 page)

Neither Chashar nor Tashi wore ornaments to distinguish their royal standing. Ra figured Tashi was the female because her snout was longer and thinner, more attractive actually. Perhaps it was an old memory from his life as Jira, but he found the dragons did not scare him.

Not like the Isle of Greesh had . . . God, no.

Drash landed on the stone floor before the thrones, and Geea gracefully slid off the young dragon’s back. Ra did likewise and stood nearby.

Chashar and Drash exchanged looks. Clearly they recognized each other, but Chashar seemed somewhat surprised to see his nephew alive.

Geea bowed to the dragons. “Queen Geea of the high fairies offers her greetings to the new rulers of the dragons, oh King Chashar and Queen Tashi.”

Chashar snorted by way of hello. Two bands of flame extending three feet shot from his nostrils. “Geea comes to pay her respects on the day Chashar’s brother dies, and at the hands of a fairy? Such hypocrisy surprises me—even coming from you, Geea.”

“Hypocrisy?” Geea asked. “I’ve come here to offer my help in what are troubled times. Although it is true a fairy did slay your brother, he was the one who attacked first. What else was she to do but defend herself?”

“It was not an ordinary fairy!” Tashi spoke suddenly, her voice high and shrill. “The dragons know this fairy to be Geea’s
direct
offspring—to be the human mirror of Geea. That is why Chashar speaks of hypocrisy. The great and moral Geea—who
goes about the land lecturing other races on behaving in strict accordance with the natural order—has decided to commit the greatest sin of all! One life isn’t enough for Geea! She must have two at the same time!”

“Only to counter the threat of the Shaktra—a creature you well know inhabits both an elemental body and a human body,” Geea replied.

“If Geea is worried about the Shaktra, why is Geea here?” Chashar said. “It is in the south, near Vak’s army. Why don’t you go meet it, settle your differences directly?”

“You know the answer to that question,” Geea replied. “Vak’s army is being herded by a thousand dragons toward Tutor—as a prelude to the invasion of Earth. Don’t you see what is happening? The Shaktra is emptying the green world. When it is done with the other elementals, it will complete the job by getting rid of the dragons.”

“Nonsense!” Tashi swore. “The dragons have no intention of entering the yellow world!”

Geea nodded. “I understand. The Shaktra has no intention of letting you go there. But it’s not going to let you stay here, either. You see, all the dragons, very soon, will be dead.”

They had begun to attract an audience behind them—and
above
them, Ra noted. With Geea’s last words, they snorted huge streams of fire—apparently a dragon’s version of laughter. Chashar also acted amused.

“How is it that the dragons are all supposed to die?” he asked.

Geea turned and studied the throng of dragons that filled the cavern. Ra would not have been surprised if she recognized each and every one of them, for her green eyes glowed, and the light in them was as subtle as it was powerful. Finally her eyes came back to rest on Chashar.

“I see less than two-thirds of your flock,” she said. “And
since there is only a thousand in the south, near Tutor, and a few about Uleestar, then I have to conclude that you’ve lost many thousands in the last few months.”

Chashar shrugged. “The war with Lord Vak was tough. And Lord Balar, of the dwarves, and your own General Tapor, are worthy opponents. Many were slain, that is the nature of battle. No one hears a dragon complain.”

Geea nodded. “It is said dragons are slow to complain, but quick to lie. You lie now, Chashar. Few of your dragons died in battle. Most died after coming here. In fact, this is probably where the remainder of you will die—when the Shaktra stops feeding you the
dust
.”

A murmur went through the crowd that grew into an uproar. Chashar had to leap up and signal for silence. Yet he glared at Geea, and Ra could feel the heat of the dragon’s snout on his face.

“You dare to come here, before Chashar’s throne, and talk of that!” he shouted. “Chashar is of a mind to slay you here and now! Best you beg for my mercy and leave immediately!”

Geea met his gaze. “You’re upset because your dirty little secret has escaped these supposedly secret walls. When the Shaktra—
my
sister, Doren—came to bargain with you for help in the war, she offered you the blue light beyond Anglar. She said you would ride the kloudar, like an ice maiden, out into the galaxy, and bathe in the blue light of the next universe. But I look around this kloudar and see no windows where blue light might shine through. I see only doors designed to keep the air trapped inside. Air that every day is filled with dust, which you turn to smoke with your flame, and inhale. A smoke that flows straight to your befuddled brains, and lets you pretend you’re something you’re never going to be.”

“Silence!” Tashi screamed. “Geea has no right to judge us!”

“I’ve every right to judge!” Geea said. “You and your dust have cost millions of elemental lives. Doren came nowhere near to fulfilling her end of the bargain, and still you fall for her lies—even to this day. So you ride a kloudar beyond Anglar? So what? You’re locked inside. With drug-saturated dust that sprays from the ceiling. You’re dragons. You’re the most powerful of all elementals. But you traded it all for what? On Earth they have a term for it—
addicts
. You’ve become addicts, which are seen as the lowest of the low. Because every one of them is a coward. When Doren came here, you tried to get something for nothing. You wanted the blue light beyond Anglar, and all you got in return was a drug that’s slowly killing you. Now wait until she takes it away. Make no mistake, that will be her next step. Then we’ll see how slowly you die, and how painfully.” Geea paused. “Is this what you want, Tashi? Chashar?”

Tashi went to snap at Geea but her king bade her to remain silent. For the first time Ra noted the yellow around Chashar’s eyes, the cracks in his wings. Also, for once, he appeared to be listening. Geea had said something that had hit home.

“Some of what you say is true,” Chashar said. “The dust does exact a toll. Some dragons can take it, others cannot. But for those of us who have the strength to absorb it, we no longer care about the blue light beyond Anglar. If given a choice, dragons would not even try to carve a window in this place, and look out on the stars. Geea knows it all comes down to choice. Geea knows that the Shaktra gave us that choice. The dragons like the dust. They like it more than they like the rest of the elementals, who never cared much for us anyway. To the fairies and elves and dwarves, we were just powerful brutes that had to be controlled. But now we have taken control of our own destiny, and we are content.”

“Have you not listened to me?” Geea asked. “Doren answers to a force above her. That force wants the green world for its own. I admit, I don’t know what it plans to do with it. But I do know that when all the others have been forced from this world, the dragons will be expendable. The dust will stop flowing from your ceiling, and the pain of its stopping will kill you all.”

Tashi snorted. “You bluff!”

Chashar was curious. “How do you know Doren will take away the dust?”

“She was once my sister. I know her better than anyone. She never cared for dragons, even before she was transformed into the Shaktra. Once you’re no longer of service to her, she’ll only be too happy to see you die.”

Chashar considered. “Speculation on Geea’s part.”

“Lies!” Tashi spat.

Geea gestured to the rest of the cavern. “The deaths of thousands of dragons is not speculation! If two thousand have already died from this dust, then isn’t it easy to envision that ten times that number will perish when she cuts off your supply?”

“Get her out of here!” Tashi snapped at her husband.

Yet Chashar continued to show interest. “What is your offer, Geea?”

“Have the dragons join my side in the war that is about to erupt in
this
world, not in the yellow world. Help me protect Lord Vak and his army, along with Uleestar. In return I promise to seize control of this kloudar and the mechanism it uses to dispense the dust. You think I’ve been sleeping for the last thirteen years, but my mind has traveled far beyond my body. I’ve discovered the secret of the dust. When the war is finished, I’ll continue to supply you with it—but in smaller and smaller amounts, until you no longer need it.”

Chashar growled. “Dragons don’t want that! Dragons want more each week. Geea can’t give dragons less.”

“Take less each week, and you won’t need it at all. That I promise.”

Chashar spoke to Tashi, who shook her head vehemently. He turned toward the assemblage. By this time there was not a dragon in the cavern who was not listening. He addressed them in a thundering voice.

“Chashar is your new king, but Chashar has always been one to listen to fellow dragons. All have heard what Queen Geea has come to offer. How do the dragons respond to her? Yea or nay?”

The chorus of “nays” was loud, some might have said overwhelming. Yet Ra did hear many “yeas” as well, and apparently, so did Chashar, for he did not immediately pass judgment. For a long time he sat in thought. Then he shook his head.

“Geea can see the dragons have made their choice. As their king, Chashar can only support their wish. So be it. But out of respect to our old alliance, Chashar will allow . . .”

A loud pounding echo filled the chamber.

Ra suspected what it meant. The outer doors had closed!

Chashar confirmed his fear. “Chashar was about to set Geea and her companions free. Now it is too late. The kloudar moves into space, where Anglar shines bright. Soon the dust will begin to fall from above. With our flames, it will be transformed into smoke, and it will be your choice to join us in this secret sacrament. If Geea so wishes.”

Geea gave Ra and Drash a quick glance. She gestured.

“Come close to me, immediately,” she said, as her green field expanded.

N
ancy Pillar, of 1246 Fairview Avenue, Costa Mesa, California. White house at the end of a cul-de-sac in a boring section of town. Ali landed on its front lawn. It was now nighttime. None of the streetlights were on. But she saw a bright lamp on inside the house, and sensed a single person in the living room.

However, she did not sense a high fairy—they shimmered brightly in her subtle vision. She wondered if Nemi had gotten his facts mixed up. One way to find out. Ali walked up to the door and knocked.

The woman who answered had gray-streaked red hair and lovely green eyes. Thirty pounds overweight, and at least sixty years of age, she wore a simple green dress but had an expensive emerald ring on her right hand—on the long finger. She did not wear a wedding band, though; and Ali recalled that Lucy Pillar’s father had died in the blast that had rocked Toule thirteen years ago—the same year Ali had been born.

The color of the ring matched the woman’s eyes. Both were of rare quality, and hinted, to Ali, of a fairy bloodline. Yet the woman’s eyes were powerless, and Ali could not imagine any
high fairy being born on Earth and not possessing at least a token of her magical ancestry inside her.

Through the screen, Ali peered at the woman’s face, searching for a sign of the Shaktra’s mark. In her subtle vision, she felt a darkness present, but could not be sure. The truth be known, not many human beings looked very bright on the subtle. Sadly, Nemi—and the Entity for that matter—were right. Love was not a dominant human quality, although love was the one thing that made a person glow the most.

“Hello. May I help you?” the woman asked in a pleasant voice. In her own dull way, she appeared to be studying Ali—particularly by staring at the burnt half of her face. Ali realized it was something she was going to have to get used to.

“My name is Ali Warner and I’m from up north, from a town called Breakwater. It’s not far from Toule, and I have a friend there, Hector Wells. Do you know him?”

The woman strained a moment, then brightened. “Why yes, Hector! He used . . . I used to know him.”

“So you’re Nancy Pillar?”

“Yes. What did you say your name was?”

“Ali Warner.”

The woman glowed at the memory of Hector—yet, that was all. She did not invite Ali in nor ask other questions. To Ali, she seemed slow. But she wondered if that was all there was to it.

“May I come in?” Ali asked. “I’ve come a long way and I’m tired.”

“But of course, please,” the woman said, holding the door open. “May I get you a glass of water? Or would you like milk? Something to eat?”

“Do you have a Coke?”

“Yes. I try not to drink it too much because my doctor says
it makes me fat. But I’m already fat, so I don’t know if it matters. What do you think? Ah, excuse me, I’ve forgotten your name already.”

“Ali. I think it depends on how many bottles you drink a day. I love Coke, but I try to have just one bottle a day.”

“Gosh darn! That might be my problem. I drink three a day.”

“Three’s not so bad.”