The Yanti

by Christopher Pike

“I prefer a set truth,” Ra admitted.

  “Well, you’re an elf,” Geea said. “Fairies prefer to see truth as fluid—more like a river that flows along twisting bends. We see truth as too sacred to define. It’s one way today, different tomorrow.”

  “You wouldn’t last long on Earth,” Ra said.

  Geea smiled. “But fairies are the least dogmatic of all the elementals. Our favorite tenet is to say, ‘We know that we don’t know.’ Does that make us so radical?”

  “No. I can see the wisdom in that. But . . .”

  “But you don’t see what this has to do with saving the Earth?”

  “I trust you’ll get to your point when it suits you.”

  Geea nodded. “As queen of the fairies, I was something of a renegade for having an elfish companion, Jira. You’ve heard his name?”

  Ra squirmed on Drash’s back. “I was led to believe I used to be him.”

  “Did Ali tell you that you were him?”

  “No. It was more . . . when I heard the name, I knew it belonged to me.”

  “Trust me, you’re him. We’re going to encounter Lord Vak and his army in a short time. Your old name still carries deep meaning to the elven king. Jira was his only child. He loved him very much, some said too much. When Jira died, Lord Vak changed. He lost all joy of life and became bitter toward the Earth. He blamed it for the problems the green world was facing. In that regard he had a point, but he was confused as well. When humans hurt the Earth, it hurts us too. Do you understand?”

  “Yes. I was told we’re like two sides of the same coin.”

  “The analogy is useful but limited. Let me explain. The high fairies understand that humans and elementals pass back and forth, from one realm to the next. The elves strongly deny this belief. They see themselves as far beyond humanity. They would not even want to be touched by a human being lest they be contaminated.”

  “They sound prejudiced.”

  “They take the word prejudice to a new extreme. Yet they are not an evil race. They have been tortured by the Shaktra to give up their homes and create new ones on the Earth. But they wouldn’t do this—even under the threat of death—if they truly believed that our souls are one and the same. Elves are honorable. They have high principles. They just happen to be wrong when it come to the highest principle of all.”

  “Which is?” Ra asked.

  “Recognition.”

  “I don’t understand. Recognition of what?”

  “The soul.”

  Again, Ra felt uncomfortable. “The dragons have joined us. That’s all Lord Vak will care about.”

  Geea shook her head. “This is the second time Lord Vak has tried to conquer Earth. Ali drove him back the first time. Out of sheer pride, he will not allow himself to be driven back a second time. You’re the only one who can conquer his pride. I can’t do it.”

  “You just need to talk to him. Explain . . .”

  “I talked to him for years!” Geea interrupted. “Lord Vak needs to see you, he needs to know you. Then he’ll recognize the truth of the relationship between humans and elementals. It’s the only way.”

  Ra swallowed heavily. “What am I to do?”

  “I don’t know. Follow your instincts. If he recognizes you, we stand a chance. If he doesn’t, he’ll probably run you through with his spear.”

  “Can you protect me?”

  “Death stands behind every wrong decision we make. Even the right choice can get us killed. This is no time for the fainthearted.” Geea paused. “That means no, I cannot assure your safety. Do you want me to let you off at the next interdimensional doorway?”

  “No.”

  “Good.”

  “Speaking of which, do you know how Ali is doing on Earth?”

  “She struggles.”

  “With what?”

  “Nira has the Yanti and Nira has plans. Sooner than she wants, Ali’s going to have to accept that we’re all just pieces playing a small part on the gigantic board of life.”

  “When this is all over with, will you heal the rest of her face?”

  “When this is over with, I doubt both of us will still be alive.”

  They found Lord Vak—king of the elves—and Lord Balar—king of the dwarves—and General Tapor—head of the fairy armed forces—in an odd place. The three were standing on a huge black boulder, and staring out at a vast army of every type of elemental imaginable. An army which was bogged down by a foot of running water.

  One foot did not sound threatening, but Ra knew better from flash floods back home. Just twelve inches of fast-moving water was enough to lift a car and float it away. Particularly if there was mud or debris in the water.

  This particular flood came from Elnar, which was moving west toward Tutor, and the sea, but which had burst its seams due to Ali’s destruction of Tiena. Ra saw that Ali had gained Earth precious time with the explosion of the underground dam. The elemental army was clearly stuck.

  Vak, Balar, and Tapor looked as if they had climbed onto the boulder just to get out of the water. Vak and Balar were not pleased to see Geea, but Tapor was obviously relieved his queen was alive. High overhead circled a fleet of dragons. Ra doubted the dragons had been informed yet that they were now working against the Shaktra, and that there were going to be a lot fewer “dust” parties in the near future.

  As Ra and Geea dismounted from Drash, Ra finally came face-to-face with the leaders of the elves and dwarves. Ra felt an odd stirring of emotions as he studied the elven king, but was not sure if it was the recognition Geea had spoken of.

  Lord Vak was an imposing figure. Taller than most men, he had broad shoulders and carried a black spear in his hand that tapered to a silver blade. His gold crown was unique. Lined on all sides with jewels, it rose to a sharp point.

  Yet his face was more human than any other elemental Ra had met. He was classically handsome, looked youthful, and had curly blond hair. Only his blue eyes set him apart from humanity. They were so bright, so clear—they could have lit a dark room.

  Lord Balar was old. His long beard was snow white and his dark eyes burned like dying red suns. He clearly had many scars, both physical and emotional, and Geea had told Ra the dwarf was no one to beg mercy from. He was never without his golden ax.

  Ali had never talked to Ra about General Tapor, and he did not think she had met him in her “Ali Warner” incarnation—as a human. Tapor was practically as tall as Vak and wore silver battle armor over a green robe. His sword was also silver, but the hilt was gold. Geea had told Ra he was stronger than any fairy in the land. Ra noted his serious green eyes, yet there was mirth in them as well. Tapor carried less bitterness than the other two.

  Ra found it hardest to look at Lord Vak. For his part, the elven king acted like he didn’t exist. As he strode toward Geea, he carried his black spear. Balar, also, held his ax ready. Tapor stayed back, his hand on the hilt of his sword, but he remained alert. In an instant, Ra knew, he would give his life for his queen.

  Geea sought to disarm Vak and Balar with a smile and a joke.

  “So we meet again Lord Vak and Lord Balar,” she said. “Surely you two could have picked a better spot to camp out?”

  “We’ll not set up camp until we’re on Earth, Queen Geea,” Lord Vak replied. “We’re merely resting here awhile.”

  Geea gestured to the flowing water. “What’s happened to Elnar?”

  Lord Vak gave her a look. “Yesterday morning, in the distance, we saw someone fighting dragons. Know anything about that?”

  “I was asleep yesterday morning.”

  “But you’re awake now,” Lord Vak said sharply.

  Ra understood. The elven king was pointing out the fact she was alive now. However, Ra knew Vak had met Ali and recognized her as Geea. Yet that face-to-face encounter had not forced Vak to accept the connection between humans and elementals. Ra could only rationalize that the elves saw Queen Geea as unique—someone who was able to take on such a low birth at will.

 
Lord Vak impatiently shook his spear. “You know we’ve already surrendered to the Shaktra. That war is finished. Now we invade the Earth. If you’re here to help us, fine, we can use your help. But if you’re here to try to stop us . . . Geea, you’ll remember that I warned you about interfering in matters that don’t concern you.”

  “Your warning no longer applies.” Geea gestured to the sky. “The dragons are no longer allies of the Shaktra. It can still be defeated, here, in this world.”

  “Since when have the dragons come over to our side?” Lord Balar demanded.

  “In the last hour.” Geea pointed to Drash. “This is Kashar’s son, Drash. Presently, he’s king of the dragons. Kashar perished yesterday.”

  “Chashar rules the dragons, not this child!” Lord Balar growled.

  “Not so,” Geea said, and once more she pointed to the sky. “If you’ll look up, you’ll see Chashar going from dragon to dragon, telling them that they’re to assist your army in reaching Uleestar.”

  Lord Vak showed his temper. Ra felt the heat of it in the pit of his stomach. So familiar . . .”We’re not going to Uleestar! We’re going to Earth! Now you join us—as General Tapor has done—or else you die! There’s no other choice for you, Geea!”

  “I go where my queen goes!” General Tapor called out.

  Geea drew her sword and took a step near Lord Vak. She didn’t point it directly at him, nor did she point it away. A murmur swept the army. She snapped at the elven king. “You kill me now and a quarter of your army will turn on you!” she said.

  Lord Vak nodded grimly. “Let that be the quarter that we don’t need to defeat humanity!”

  Geea shook her head. “You and your hatred for humanity! You blame them for everything that’s gone wrong in your life. Admit it, in your own perverted way, you even blame them for the death of Jira!”

  Lord Vak swiftly lowered his spear, as if to run her through. Just as fast, Geea put the tip of her sword to the tip of his weapon. To Ra, it all happened in the blink of an eye. They locked eyes; he would not have been surprised if flames ignited in the narrow space between them.

  “No. I blame you,” Lord Vak whispered.

  “Me?” she cried.

  “You should have caught him!”

  “I didn’t know he was going to jump!”

  The army continued to stir restlessly. But Queen Geea and Lord Vak were locked like two statues—two pieces of painful history that could not be altered by words. Lord Vak sucked in a breath and appeared to return to the topic at hand.

  “I warned you not to go against me again,” he told her.

  “And I warned you, even before Jira died,” Geea said, clearly wanting to keep his mind on the larger picture. “Humans are as much a part of us as our arms and legs. But if neither of you stubborn old kings will accept that—after all the proof I’ve given you in the past—then I’ve brought a human being with me for you to slaughter. He’s for you, Lord Vak, to kill. He can be the first victim of your historic battle. Trust me, he’s not afraid of you. He came into this world for this purpose. To look you straight in the eye and see if you’re a murderer.”

  Geea motioned Ra to come closer, and Ra obeyed. In an instant he grasped her strategy, and didn’t like it, but decided to risk it anyway. Because listening to them argue, Ra finally did hear the sound of his former father. Geea had said it was all about recognition, and Ra recognized him. Not totally, but enough to know Geea’s philosophy was more fact than faith. And it gave Ra the faith that if he—a mere human—could see an elven lord as a relative, then surely the powerful king with his magical abilities must be able to see their connection.

  Ra walked until he stood between the two.

  Each of their blades almost touched his neck.

  “You have to look him in the eye before you kill him,” Geea said.

  “Why . . .” Lord Vak began, after a hasty glance at Ra.

  “In the eyes! Then you can thrust your spear through his heart!” Geea swore. “If you can do that—now, before this assembly of elementals—then I’ll promise to join your army and help destroy humanity. You want to kill a world? Just kill this boy and we’ll kill Earth together!”

  Sounded like a bargain to Lord Vak. Pulling his black spear off Geea’s sword, he turned toward Ra and raised his weapon. In that last second Ra almost closed his eyes, to block the horror that was sure to follow. But somehow he managed to keep them open, and stare up at the fury-driven creature. It was then he felt an unexpected sensation. A warmth in his chest, exactly where he was about to be stabbed.

  Ra felt love, yes, and then, total recognition. Memories washed over him. This was his father; who had loved him so much; who had almost died the night Jira had died.

  Lord Vak paused with his spear held high.

  He frowned. “What’s your name, boy?” he demanded.

  “Ra Omlee. I’m from the country you might know as Tanzania. My people, the Kutus, live beside Mt. Kilimanjaro.”

  Lord Vak nodded. “I know this mountain. How did you come to enter the green world?”

  “Geea’s alter ego, Ali Warner, brought me here.”

  Lord Vak sniffed the air. “There is something about you . . .”

  “I have been told that before, my Lord.”

  “Who told you?”

  “Different creatures I’ve met in this world. Drash for one.”

  “Ra is a bit elfish,” Drash muttered.

  “How dare you!” Lord Vak snapped at the young dragon.

  “Drash dares nothing. Drash merely states what is,” Drash replied.

  Lord Vak turned back to Ra. “Has Geea tricked you into this?”

  “Into what, my Lord?”

  “Why are you willing to sacrifice yourself this way?”

  “I suppose you might see it as a sacrifice, my Lord. But I don’t believe you’re the type that will strike down an unarmed person.”

  Lord Vak shook his spear. “You’re not unarmed. You have a sword. Draw it. Fight me fairly!”

  Ra shook his head. “I’m not here to fight you, my Lord.”

  “Then why are you here? Answer my question.”

  “I asked Geea that question just before Drash brought us here. Her answer made no sense to me then, but it does now. She said I was here for recognition.”

  Lord Vak was impatient. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Lord Balar raised his ax. “If you want me to chop off the boy’s head, I would be happy . . .”

  “Stay where you are!” Lord Vak snapped, without taking his gaze off Ra. It seemed as if the elven king was unable to turn from him. Ra felt the same way. The warmth he felt changed into a painful ache, a profound longing. Suddenly he wanted to run to the man and embrace him. The spear was in the way. Lord Vak had lowered it somewhat, but the tip was still aimed at him. Ra tried hard not to imagine what it would feel like to have it pierce his chest.

  Suddenly Lord Vak shook his head, as if awakening from a dream.

  He turned to Geea. “I’ll not play this game with you. Take this boy and leave. I have more important things to concern myself with.”

  Geea stared at Lord Vak. “You won’t kill him?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “He’s a child!”

  “So what? When you reach Earth, you’ll kill millions of children.”

  “Enough, Geea. I have spoken! No more of this game!”

  Geea turned her sword toward Ra. “Coward. Then I’ll kill him for you. I’ll cut off his head and you can wear it on the tip of your spear as you ride victorious into Earth.”

  Quickly, Geea raised her sword to slice his neck. This time Ra was forced to close his eyes. The nerve of Geea! She was really going to kill him!

  There came a loud clang of metal.

  “No!” Lord Vak shouted.

  Ra opened his eyes. Queen Geea’s blow had been halted by Lord Vak’s spear. The two weapons were only a fraction of an inch from Ra’s neck.

  Geea
panted. Lord Vak sweated. Ra felt close to fainting. There was love here, he thought, in the middle of all this hate and violence. There was a deeper meaning. All of them, they just had to find it.

  “Why did you stop me?” Geea shouted at Lord Vak.

  Lord Vak did not answer.

  Geea went to snap at the elven king again, but then she looked down at Ra, and her sword fell from her hand. Tears burned her eyes—Ra would not have thought it possible.

  “Why do you weep?” Lord Vak demanded.

  “Because he’s your son,” she whispered.

  “Geea . . .” Lord Vak began, but his voice was unsteady.

  “How can you be so blind?” she asked.

  Lord Vak backed up a step, shaking his head. Now he would not even look at Ra. “No. It can’t be true. It is not true.”

  Geea went after him, grabbed him by the shoulders. “He’s Jira!”

  Lord Vak made a feeble attempt to push her away. “Jira’s gone! He was here and now he’s gone and that’s it! He is no more!”

  “Then kill the boy!” Geea cried.

  “No!” Lord Vak snapped.

  “He’s only a human! You hate humans!”

  “No! I don’t hate . . .” Lord Vak did not finish his sentence.

  On the vast field, there was a long moment of silence. Ra saw that Geea knew how to use it. She let Lord Vak be with his doubts. She let them grow.

  Finally the elven king said, “I will question the boy further.”

  Lord Vak’s approach was not threatening. Indeed, when he reached Ra, the elven king went down on his knee and handed Ra his black spear.

  “What did we call this?” he asked, referring to the weapon.

  “Starshaft,” Ra said, the name coming to him out of nowhere.

  “Why did we call it that?”

  “I remember something . . .” Ra strained.

  Lord Vak nodded, and there was a hint of desperation in the gesture, and in his next words. “No one knew why except my son and me.”

  Ra had it; the answer made him smile. “This spear—the ore we made it from came from a falling star.”

  Lord Vak nodded, and perhaps his eyes burned as well.

  “Why did we use it?” he whispered.

  “Because the ore was so strong.”