sweat.
Presently, Farble and Paddy were still in the elemental kingdom, in the care of a group of fairies, who were hiding in the mountains north of the fairy capital, Uleestar. Her friend, Ra,was with them. They were all trying to stay out of the Shaktra’s sight, and the monster’s army, which was busy ravishing the countryside.
But back to the cave and her last talk with her dad. The reason Ali had lost half a day in the cave had been because of Radrine and her evil minions. The dark fairies had put up a bitter fight, trying to keep her from entering the green world, and she had suffered a nasty hand injury from the battle.
But her battle with the dark fairies all worked out in the end. When she returned from the elemental world, Ali had the distinct pleasure of tossing Radrine into the blinding light of the Earth’s sun—which was
deadly
to a dark fairy, who for the most part lived in gigantic hives deep underground.
Because Radrine had caused her so much grief—the evil queen had once tortured her just to amuse herself—Ali had actually smiled when the dark fairy’s worm-infested translucent skull had exploded in the sunlight. However, although the act of revenge had not gnawed at Ali’s conscience, her grin had quickly faded and she had vomited. In the war with the Shaktra, killing was necessary, but Ali hoped it never became a pleasure.
Lying to her father, however, definitely bothered her. It hurt her now, especially when she heard the tension in his voice. He drove a truck long distance for a living, and had to be away for days at a time. He worried about her constantly, probably because he had never gotten over the loss of his wife—her mother—a year ago.
His inability to reach her had driven him nuts. Two days ago, he had discovered she was not staying at Cindy’s house—as she had promised to do. To make matters worse, from calling around town—in search of her—he had heard that Cindy and Steve were missing.
Her poor dad. Ali only had to listen to him a minute before deciding that her lying had to stop. She was going to tell him the truth, of who and
what
she was. He would get over it, she told herself, she was his daughter. He would
have
to get over it . . .
“Hey, Dad, you know about fairies? Well, I’m one of them, just found out a month or so ago. No, Dad, listen, I’m not that kind of fairy . . .”
It might be a bad idea to tell him the truth on the phone.
Across the room, Nira stared at her as Ali’s father rambled on in her ear. Her dad was so upset, Ali could hardly get a word in edgewise. She had to content herself to listen for a few minutes, just let him blow off steam.
As usual, Nira showed not a trace of emotion, but Ali could not rid herself of the impression Nira was not staring at her face, but lower, at her chest—possibly at the Yanti hidden beneath Ali’s shirt. Nira had shown a remarkable ability when it came to using the talisman. In Toule, a few days ago, she had made a dead boy talk. Pretty impressive, Ali thought, not to mention
very
disturbing.
Poor Freddy Degear, his bloody skull crushed, the rest of him stuck in the throes of rigor mortis, calling out for the wicked Shaktra, when his soul should have been flying high with the angels. Even while exploring the elemental kingdom, Ali had frequently reflected on the event. Holding the Yanti, and using a few peculiar hand movements, Nira had summoned forth a radiant heat that had flooded the morgue, and briefly shaken Freddy to life. Clearly the child had powers Ali could not begin to fathom, much less duplicate.
Sometimes it made Ali wonder who should be wearing the Yanti.
Yet, with the scar on Nira’s forehead that resembled a searedthumbprint, Ali never let herself forget that the child might be inadvertently working for the Shaktra. It made her wonder how she was supposed to protect her friends and family from Sheri Smith.
Her father finally began to calm down. He was on his way home, in his truck,
Presently, Farble and Paddy were still in the elemental kingdom, in the care of a group of fairies, who were hiding in the mountains north of the fairy capital, Uleestar. Her friend, Ra,was with them. They were all trying to stay out of the Shaktra’s sight, and the monster’s army, which was busy ravishing the countryside.
But back to the cave and her last talk with her dad. The reason Ali had lost half a day in the cave had been because of Radrine and her evil minions. The dark fairies had put up a bitter fight, trying to keep her from entering the green world, and she had suffered a nasty hand injury from the battle.
But her battle with the dark fairies all worked out in the end. When she returned from the elemental world, Ali had the distinct pleasure of tossing Radrine into the blinding light of the Earth’s sun—which was
deadly
to a dark fairy, who for the most part lived in gigantic hives deep underground.
Because Radrine had caused her so much grief—the evil queen had once tortured her just to amuse herself—Ali had actually smiled when the dark fairy’s worm-infested translucent skull had exploded in the sunlight. However, although the act of revenge had not gnawed at Ali’s conscience, her grin had quickly faded and she had vomited. In the war with the Shaktra, killing was necessary, but Ali hoped it never became a pleasure.
Lying to her father, however, definitely bothered her. It hurt her now, especially when she heard the tension in his voice. He drove a truck long distance for a living, and had to be away for days at a time. He worried about her constantly, probably because he had never gotten over the loss of his wife—her mother—a year ago.
His inability to reach her had driven him nuts. Two days ago, he had discovered she was not staying at Cindy’s house—as she had promised to do. To make matters worse, from calling around town—in search of her—he had heard that Cindy and Steve were missing.
Her poor dad. Ali only had to listen to him a minute before deciding that her lying had to stop. She was going to tell him the truth, of who and
what
she was. He would get over it, she told herself, she was his daughter. He would
have
to get over it . . .
“Hey, Dad, you know about fairies? Well, I’m one of them, just found out a month or so ago. No, Dad, listen, I’m not that kind of fairy . . .”
It might be a bad idea to tell him the truth on the phone.
Across the room, Nira stared at her as Ali’s father rambled on in her ear. Her dad was so upset, Ali could hardly get a word in edgewise. She had to content herself to listen for a few minutes, just let him blow off steam.
As usual, Nira showed not a trace of emotion, but Ali could not rid herself of the impression Nira was not staring at her face, but lower, at her chest—possibly at the Yanti hidden beneath Ali’s shirt. Nira had shown a remarkable ability when it came to using the talisman. In Toule, a few days ago, she had made a dead boy talk. Pretty impressive, Ali thought, not to mention
very
disturbing.
Poor Freddy Degear, his bloody skull crushed, the rest of him stuck in the throes of rigor mortis, calling out for the wicked Shaktra, when his soul should have been flying high with the angels. Even while exploring the elemental kingdom, Ali had frequently reflected on the event. Holding the Yanti, and using a few peculiar hand movements, Nira had summoned forth a radiant heat that had flooded the morgue, and briefly shaken Freddy to life. Clearly the child had powers Ali could not begin to fathom, much less duplicate.
Sometimes it made Ali wonder who should be wearing the Yanti.
Yet, with the scar on Nira’s forehead that resembled a searedthumbprint, Ali never let herself forget that the child might be inadvertently working for the Shaktra. It made her wonder how she was supposed to protect her friends and family from Sheri Smith.
Her father finally began to calm down. He was on his way home, in his truck,
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