The Yanti Read Free Page A

was sour. I had to toss some of the stuff in your fridge in the garbage. But don’t worry, the bread and cheese were fine.”
    “Did you eat?”
    Cindy nodded. “Same as her.”
    Ali took a step closer to the girl, stared down at her. Like herself, Nira had bright red hair, but her eyes were a dull violet—instead of a bright green—and even at the best of times they appeared unfocused. Ali knew that was because of the thumbprint between the girl’s eyes. The burn-like scar indicated that Nira had been
marked
by the Shaktra. The girl was not truly autistic. She could be a genius for all they knew. But she was under the control of a monster—her own mother, Ms. Sheri Smith.
    Before Ali had left the elemental dimension, the Shaktra had marked her
fairy
mother as well. Ali still did not understand the precise nature of the possession, but somehow the evil being had stolen her mom’s mind and left her an empty shell that could not even recognize her own daughter. It was as if Nira’s and her mother’s souls had been cast into a realm of shadows and nightmares.
    Nira seemed to rest peacefully, however, and for that Ali was grateful. From her travels in the elemental world, Ali knew she and Nira were related. It was possible they were sisters.
    At the same time, she knew Nira was more powerful than she. In a chamber buried in the heart of a mighty kloudar—the elemental world’s floating mountains—Ali had seen the sleeping counterpart of Nira, and had recognized the potent violet light that emanated from her majestic being. Seeing her then had been like staring at a star that was about to go supernova. Even now, Ali could sense—despite Nira’s meek appearance—the immense energy inside the child.
    Unfortunately, Ali sensed the greatness through a black barrier. That was because of the
mark
. Ali had to ask herself what evil lay behind it that it was capable of eclipsing a light as bright as Nira.
    Ali gestured to Cindy. “Let’s go in the den, we need to talk.”
    Cindy hesitated. She had taken a quick shower after being released by the Toule police—before Ali had flown over the mountain—and she had put on a fresh pair of Ali’s blue jeans, and a warm green sweater. Yet her face still betrayed the pain of her recent trauma. She was not cut or bruised—Ali had healed the superficial wounds. But her blue eyes showed damage. She had been standing beside Steve when he had been stabbed in the heart by Karl.
That
was not the type of scar Ali could remove with a wave of her hand.
    Gone was the carefree chatterbox Ali had grown up with. Although not in shock, Cindy was emotionally far from healthy. She showed signs of battle fatigue. The life had gone out of her once curly blond hair. It hung limp and weary, as did her whole head. Ali knew she must be exhausted.
    Ali caught a glimpse of herself in a nearby mirror, the one her earthly mother had used to favor. The oval glass was not large, and the dark wooden frame was old enough to be an antique. Ali did not know where her parents had bought it, but seeing her own face startled her. Like Cindy, she had taken a shower before leaving the house. She had even taken the time to wash her long red hair, and rinse away the dust from beneath her green eyes.
    Yet the change that confronted her now was not in the details of her expression, nor even in the way she held her thin but wiry frame. It was more in the invisible field that surrounded her, and in the black wells of her pupils. While in the elemental kingdom—as a final desperate measure to save herself and her friends from certain doom—she had swallowed an overdose of fairy stardust. Since that wild experiment, she had felt as if she were in reality two beings: one fairy, the other human. But deep inside, she felt the former much stronger than the latter, and that had never been the case before.
    She no longer saw a teenage girl in the mirror. It was weird, it was her own face—the same face that stared back at