“What did you think he was?”
“A dwarf. I mean, he had on tons of makeup. He looked like some weird short guy to me.”
“Did he just walk up to you on the street?”
“Yeah. He was trying to sell me something. Something he had stolen.”
“Your town sounds much more interesting than mine.”
“It wasn’t that interesting until the elementals showed up.”
“So when you met your troll friends and Paddy you learned you were a fairy?”
“Not exactly. A tree told me that I was a fairy.”
Ra frowned. “A tree?”
“It was a talking tree. Well, actually, the tree was unimportant. It was more like this person I used to know—when I was living here—came to me in the form of a tree and told me all kinds of stuff about myself. He was the one who said I had to climb the mountain and stop the elementals from invading the Earth.”
“Could you see this person?”
“No. Just the tree.” She added, “He came as a pond later on.”
“A pond?”
“Yes. A small clear pond.”
“And you could hear his voice?”
“No. Actually, it was only in my head. It was like telepathy.”
“But if you couldn’t see him, how did you know you could trust him?”
Ali smiled. “Because of his love. I could feel it whenever he came. His love was . . . is. . . so wonderful.”
“Does he have a name?”
She hesitated. “I probably shouldn’t say his name out loud.”
Ra teased her. “Like you, I’m great at keeping secrets.”
Ali suddenly leaned over and whispered Nemi’s name in his ear.
She didn’t know why, she just trusted him. Trusted him with her life.
They had hiked for another hour when Ali heard sounds up ahead, and glimpsed through the trees a half dozen people approaching. Quickly, she got her friends off the path, behind some bushes, and waited for the strangers to come closer. From what she could see, they looked like normal people—a bit thin perhaps, with bright red hair that shone beneath the green sun, deeply tanned skin, and wearing green clothes.
But Paddy said that they were fairies.
Ali had to smile. “They look like humans. Even more so than elves.” The elves she had seen, at least, had pointed ears.
“Humans look like fairies, Missy,” Paddy corrected her.
The group came closer. They had their heads down, as if they were heavy, and their expressions were blank, and she asked Paddy about it. But he seemed reluctant to comment.
“We should let them go their own way,” he said.
“No way. If they’re fairies, I want to talk to them.” She went to get up, to wave to them. Paddy grabbed her arm.
“No, Missy! Don’t speak to these ones!” He added in a dark whisper,” They’ve been marked.”
“Marked? What does that mean?”
The leprechaun shook his head. “Paddy only saw it a few times, before he left for your world. But a few fairies and elves—they have a mark on their heads. These ones—they have no minds.”
Ali thought of Freddy Degear and Nira Smith—always Nira.
“Does the mark look like a thumbprint?” she asked.
“Aye. Like it was burned into their skin.” Paddy continued to try to pull her back behind the bushes. “Let them pass, Missy. Don’t mind them.”
Ali shook him off. “Where does the mark come from? Tell me, I need to know.”
He cowered. “Paddy does not know.”
She knelt in front of him, made him look her in the eye. “Does the Shaktra do this to people?”
“Paddy doesn’t. . .”
“Does it touch them and then control their minds?” she insisted.
He shook his head. “Paddy has only heard stories.”
“Tell me about these stories.”
“That when they’re marked, it can see through them!”
Ali glanced at the troupe of fairies. “They move like they’re drunk. They don’t look dangerous.”
Paddy was anxious. “They can be dangerous if it. . . awakens them.”
Ali stood, turned to Ra. “Do you think we can handle them?”
He nodded. “We need to talk to someone around here.”
Leaving Paddy and Farble behind, Ali and Ra stepped onto the path in front of the fairies. None looked up, slowed down, or made a sound. Their green eyes were marbles fished from the mud. Ali had seen snakes with more emotion on their faces. Feeling cold despair, she tried to block their way, but they went around her. They had the exact same marks on their foreheads as Freddy and Nira.
Yet Ali could see that they had been beautiful at one time. Their robes were not entirely green, but mixed with lines of white and yellow, colors that seemed to shift as the sun moved in the sky. Their red hair was still bright, braided with silver and gold thread in long strands that reached past their waists. Each wore bracelets and anklets made of red and blue flowers, and their ears—although more human than elfish—were longer and thinner. It seemed the green sunlight passed through the soft skin without hesitation, and took the shadows from their eyes.
Yet the marks on their foreheads destroyed it all. . .
They were walking shadows. They were living nightmares.
Ali turned to Ra as the troupe started to walk away.
“Look what direction they’re headed!” she cried.
Ra, his sword in his hand, nodded. “If they keep going they’ll hit the desert.”
“The scabs will get them you mean!”
Putting away his weapon, Ra touched her arm. “This was going on long before we got here. You can’t change it in a day.”
Ali shook her head, took a step toward the gang’s lone straggler, a tall girl with a narrow face who couldn’t have been much older than herself. “Get Paddy. Drag him out here if you have to. I cannot let this go on,” she said.
The girl resisted Ali, but her effort was feeble and not sustained. Ali managed to sit her on the trunk of a fallen tree, and Ra reappeared with Paddy and Farble. The whole time the girl kept her eyes down, and did not respond to Ali’s questions. All went so far as to strike her—the girl’s head swung like a branch in the breeze. Ali turned to Paddy.
“They are all heading south. That cannot be by chance. I assume the Shaktra sends them to the desert to be eaten by the scabs. Is that true?”
Paddy hesitated. “Aye, Missy.”
“Is there more to it than that?” she persisted.
Paddy pointed to the girl. “She will change into a scalii.”
“What’s a scalii?” Ali asked.
“It’s when a scab lands on someone and eats their brains. They turn into a scalii.”
Ali was stunned. “They don’t die?”
Paddy was grim. “They wish they could die.”
Ali had to force herself to ask her next question. “What do scaliis do?”
Paddy shuddered. “Eat other people. Anyone they can get their hands on.”
The girl tried to stand, Ali forced her back down. “We can’t let her go,” she said.
“How are you going to stop her?” Ra asked.
“I don’t know. But I have to stop all of them. Or. . .”
“Or what?” Ra asked. “Head back to the desert? Try to burn up all the scabs? There could be millions of them for all you know. There probably are.”
Ali turned to Paddy. “What do you mean that the Shaktra can see through them?”
“What Paddy heard,” the leprechaun muttered.
“More the reason to leave her behind,” Ra said.
“What is your problem?” Ali snapped. “Is this what it means to be a chimvi? To be cold and heartless?”
Ra hesitated. “Sometimes, if the situation demands it.”
“I’m going to save this girl. No matter what it takes.”
Ra nodded. “I agree, you have to try. But she might not be under a simple spell. It’s
possible the damage is permanent. The Shaktra might have burned her brains out.”
Shaking her head, Ali drew out her Yanti. “Leave me alone with her.”
With the others gone, Ali was still not free to concentrate. The girl kept trying to leave, and Ali had to grip her wrist tightly. That left her fewer fingers to manipulate the Yanti. Nevertheless, she managed to repeat the cycle she had learned from Nira, while simultaneously focusing on releasing the girl from her mental bondage. Unfortunately, as she brought her power to bear, the girl began to shake as if she were having a convulsion and blood dripped from her nose. Ali’s own hand began to bleed as well, and she had to stop.
With her uninjured hand, Ali stroked the girl’s hair. “Can you tell me your name at least?” she asked.
The girl did not respond, did not even look at her. Ali signaled for Ra to return. She explained what had happened when she used the Yanti on the girl.
“I want to take her with us,” Ali added.
“Bad idea,” he replied.
Ali glared at him.” Who’s in charge here?”
Ra shook his head. “You may be in charge but it’s still a bad idea, and it’s my responsibility to tell you so. This woman has only one thought in her head, that’s to go south. We’re going north. She’ll wear us out, fighting her.”
“How can you just leave her to such a horrible death?”
Ra shrugged. “You’re leaving the others who just walked by to a horrible death. Why? Because you know you can’t manage them all. You can’t manage this one.” Ra added, “The best you can do is tie her to a tree, off the path, where she won’t be spotted.”
“She would be helpless. A wild animal could walk by and eat her.”
“I don’t like it, but at least it gives her a chance. Then, on our way back, maybe you’ll know more what can be done for her. By then, you might be able to reverse it.” Ra added, “Paddy shares my opinion.”
Ali snorted. “So now we’re going to the leprechaun for advice?”
“Paddy’s smarter than he looks. And this is his world, after all.”
Ali felt frustrated. What Ra was saying made sense, but to simply abandon the girl felt so cold. And what about the others who had just passed by? She did not have enough rope to bind them all. Yet, if she let them be, the scabs would have their brains for dinner before the sun went down.
Standing, she handed the girl over to Ra. “There’s rope in my backpack. I left it behind the bushes. Tie her to a tree around there, make sure she’s sitting down, that the spot is comfortable, and that she can’t break free.”
“Where are you going?” Ra asked.
Ali nodded toward the way they had come. “I’m going to disable the others.”
Ra called after her. “A lot of times, being a leader means knowing when not to do something.”
Ali snapped back. “Just take care of the girl!”
The marked fairies moved slowly. It took her only a few minutes to catch up with them. For a time she walked beside them, trying to talk to them, but it was hopeless. She could force one to stop, but the others would continue on without pause.
She discovered she was trembling. She could not bear to step on an insect, and now she was being asked to break the poor fairies’ legs. Of course, no one was really asking her, it was the situation.
Best to get it over with quick, she thought.
Picking up a grapefruit-sized stone, she threw it at the leader’s calf. Threw it hard—the bone made a distinct popping sound as it snapped, and the guy went down, and the others walked around him. Then the guy started crawling, using his arms for traction, and Ali felt as if she might vomit.
She picked up another stone, went to throw it at another fairy, but her trembling practically changed into a convulsion. She started shaking all over and couldn’t stop. The pain in her right hand soared, and the rock fell from her left hand as tears burned her eyes. Ra’s words returned to haunt her.
“A lot of times, being a leader means knowing when not to do something.”
“But he’s wrong, if I do nothing they’ll suffer more,” she told herself.
The truth was . . . she did not know if that was true. To leave a dozen fairies in the wild with a mass of broken limbs was an intolerable idea. To allow them to be changed into scaliis was equally unbearable. The paradox hit Ali hard, as she imagined it must hit all leaders at one time or another. She could not do the right thing because the situation was too horrible for any choice to be right.
In the end, she saw she did not have the stomach to injure any more of the fairies, and she lowered her head and turned away. However, she made a vow to herself: to return to this area as soon as possible, when she knew more about the Shaktra’s curse, and help as many of the marked fairies as possible.
When she caught up with her friends, she did not even go over to see how the girl was doing. Ra assured her she was as comfortable as he could make her, and they started hiking north again.
The path curved slightly to the west, and for a time they saw the ocean again. The beach was no longer flat sand, but steep rocks and cliffs, and they were forced to stay on the path, which eventually led them further inland. Close to sunset, they began to give serious thought as to where they should camp, but as the sky started to darken, they found themselves at the end of a long narrow gully. Here there were no trees, few bushes, and long shadows. Ali did not like the look of the area, yet the path ran through it.
“Have you been here before?” Ali asked Paddy.
“Aye. Pa took me here a long time ago.” The leprechaun sniffed the air. “Had a sweeter odor then.”
Ali understood. Although she could see no carcasses, the gully smelled of spoiled meat. Worse, it looked like a perfect place to get ambushed in. She shared her concerns with Ra.
“We could try circling around,” he said, studying the top edges of the gully. The rock and gravel were loose, the walls steep. Once inside, it would be difficult to get out.
“We don’t know the land,” Ali said. “We could get lost.”
“We can backtrack, camp near that stream we passed a half hour ago,” Ra said.
The gully was silent, protected from even the faint noise of the evening breeze, but she sensed a watchfulness inside, a haunted hunger. “I would prefer to camp on the other side of this place. Have it behind us,” Ali said.
Ra nodded. “There is a creepy vibe here.”
Ali smiled. “You said ‘vibe.’ That’s cute.”
“I know all kinds of cute American words.”
Another decision to be made. Ali felt exhausted by how quickly they kept piling up on her. The day had been forever, the dangers unimaginable, and now her right hand throbbed again. Trying to stretch out her field, and see around the boulders and through the shadows, she found her subtle psychic energies drained. She saw nothing, but worried if they were attacked in the gully—by scaliis or dark fairies—she wouldn’t have the strength to defend her friends.
Yet the urge to go forward was on her. She told the others as much.
“Let’s get through it as fast as we can,” she said. “Stay alert, and no talking.”
There was a major flaw in her plan, and if she had considered it longer, she might have chosen differently. The gully curved as they hiked through it, both to the right and the left, and as a result, she could not see the end of it. Paddy’s memory was of no help. She did not know if the ravine was one mile long, or ten. The latter was a scary thought. She absolutely did not want to camp in the gully. The farther they walked, and the darker it got, the stronger the foul odor grew. She could not be sure—so deep in the ravine—but she feared the sun had already set.
They were two miles into the gully when the attack came.
Never in her dreams could Ali have imagined she could have been caught so off-guard. When the scaliis raised their grotesque heads from behind the rocky crevasses—and there were dozens of heads—she had to ask herself why they had not shown up on her mental radar. S
he was tired and injured, true, but those were not excuses. The only explanation was that these creatures were psychically shielded, probably by the Shaktra itself. Whatever, they were surrounded on all sides!
“Scaliis!” Paddy cried, grabbing ahold of her leg. Gently, Ali made him release her and turned to Ra. Paddy went from hugging her to holding on to Farble, who had begun to groan pitifully.
“Any ideas?” she asked.
Ra drew out his bow and arrows. “There’s fewer of them up ahead. Let’s fight our way through. There’s no point in going back.” He added, “How much power do you have left?”
She shook her head. “Not enough. Make every arrow count.”
Ra nodded. “These creatures should be easier to hit.”
A hopeful remark. As the scaliis came scurrying into the gully, Ali noticed several disturbing physical characteristics. They did not move like the zombie-fairies they had met on the path. Their strides were rapid and purposeful, and their feet were stringy masses of gelatin—similar to pink tentacles—and they were able to navigate the incline without falling, almost like spiders. Their red hands appeared hard and sharp, like crab claws that could cut stone; and they were naked, their bodies were of all sizes and shapes. Ali realized she was staring at scaliis that had been made from fairies and leprechauns, as well as elves and dwarves. Indeed, she thought, she was looking at the worst nightmare the Shaktra could have unleashed on the elemental kingdom. The Shaktra had changed friends and foes alike into monsters.
The worst horror was their heads. The scaliis had only one eye; it floated where the mouth should be, dark and bulbous, a fish lens taken out of an ocean depth that had never seen a sun. Above it, where the eyes should have been, was a single wide mouth, devoid of lips, mounted with rows of razor-sharp teeth, and oozing red and blue fluid. The creatures’ claws kept clicking; their mouths drooled as the scalii platoon drew closer.
As Ali took out her fire stones, Ra asked if he should open fire. Before answering, Ali spoke to Paddy. “Where are they most vulnerable?” she asked.