The Shaktra (2 page)

Ali laughed. “If that isn’t a hint! Sure, I’ll bake you some if you want.”

“No need to bother for Paddy.” He added, “But if you do, then those raisin ones, made out of oatmeal, are very nice with tea. And if you are baking some, then it is better to make lots, so Missy doesn’t have to bake more at a later time.”

“Sound leprechaun advice,” she said, nodding.

Before Ali started cooking, she let Farble out of the basement, and the troll came up and sat on the kitchen floor—since he was too tall, and heavy, to sit at the table. The arrival of the troll dampened Paddy’s mood, but the leprechaun was good at blocking out the parts of his mind that made him uncomfortable—a quality that made him an excellent liar.

Farble consumed a tremendous amount of food. He was destroying her bank account. Her babysitting savings were limited. She did not know how much longer she could go on feeding him without borrowing money from her father’s account, something she was reluctant to do. Yet she feared to cut back on his portions. He was a troll, he was always hungry. Food was the center of his universe. Who knew what he might eat if she did not keep him happy? Many times Paddy had warned her of the dangers of having a hungry troll in the house.

However, in one way Farble was easier to feed than Paddy. She just had to toss him raw steaks several times a day, and let him drink out of the sink, and he was content. He would eat hamburger as well, uncooked, two pounds at a time, although he
did not appear to like chicken or turkey. Paddy said—with a hint of fear in his voice—that it was because trolls craved red meat.

Unfortunately, she had only one steak left to give Farble, and no hamburger, and the troll ate the beef so quickly, with such relish, and then stared at her with such longing, that it stirred her worries. A month before she had decided to keep the two elementals in the human realm so that she might study them and thereby learn more about the elemental kingdom, and because she had made promises to help them. But in the last week, the reality of keeping them fed and hidden and—worst of all—
happy
, had begun to wear on her.

They were not pets. They had feelings, hopes, desires—perhaps none of which could be fulfilled in a human world. Why, Paddy couldn’t even get a date for a Saturday night with a female dwarf from an insane asylum! She sensed his loneliness, and Farble’s as well. Both looked up to her, they revered her, but try as she might, she could not be close friends with them.

They were elementals, they belonged with other elementals.

It was true but it was a hard truth.

They were difficult, and
weird
, but she loved them.

Ali had a sudden thought about Farble and his unique appetites, and turned to the ten-foot-tall troll. As usual, he had a smudge of green spit dripping from his wide toothy mouth, and his huge yellow eyes were bright and glowing. He looked less like a lovable teddy bear than a moving statue.

Farble had a square head that somehow appeared unfinished, and his hide was gray, and hard to the touch. He had hair but it was scant, and it could be as stiff as wire, particularly if he forgot to bathe, which he was prone to do unless she reminded him.

When they had first met, in battle, he had scared the heck out of her, but now she could not stare at him without smiling. Farble’s many strange and oversized parts should have added up to a
monster, but there was an innocence to his gaze that broke her heart.

“Farble, do you like eggs?” she asked.

“Eggs?” he said to himself, thinking—a slow process.

She held one up. “These are chicken eggs. Lots of people like them.”

“Chickens?” he said, doubtful.

“They taste different than chickens. I like them better. Here, try one.” She handed it over. “You have to break it carefully and . . .”

He put the whole thing in his mouth, the white shell crunching under his moldy teeth. Paddy watched in disgust as Farble slowly smiled. She assumed it was a smile, although most small children would have run screaming from the expression.

“Eggs. More,” Farble said.

“I’ve eleven here,” she said. “I promised Paddy four. But you can have the rest. Would seven be enough?”

Not bothering to stand, he held out both his four-fingered palms, and she gave him two at a time. She could have been tossing M&M’s to a chocolate freak. The eggs were gone in a minute and he still looked hungry. Paddy broke in.

“Don’t be giving away me breakfast, Missy,” he said. “Can’t fill a rock like him. Best to give him a drink of water and send him back to the basement.”

Farble cast Paddy a dull look, that might have been a frown, and Ali worried that the troll was thinking that if he could just eat the leprechaun, and shut him up once and for all, he could return to the basement content. The two barely tolerated each other, probably because in their world they were natural enemies.

“Green food,” Farble mumbled.

“You don’t want to be eating anything that’s green,” Ali interrupted. “I’ll go to the store as soon as I’m done here, and buy
plenty of steaks, juicy
red
steaks. You won’t go to sleep hungry, Farble, I promise.”

Farble grunted, which she hoped meant that he was willing to wait.

Because all trolls were allergic to sunlight, Farble preferred to sleep away most of the day. The troll’s supper was often the leprechaun’s breakfast. It was only when it was dark or extremely cloudy that Farble went outside—and only in her company—to stretch in the woods behind her house, or else wash in a stream a mile farther up the mountain. If Farble did not bathe several times a day, he quickly began to smell.

Paddy, on the other hand, when his face was plastered with cheap makeup, and he was wearing clothes that did not identify him as a creature out of a folktale, could go to a movie or even a mall by himself. He knew how to ride a bus and carry exact change. He was smart when it came to money. There were few things he liked more than the sound of coins in his pocket.

Unfortunately, he had a bad habit of stealing. What made it worse was that he was good at it, with his quick eyes and hands. The other day he had brought home a CD player, along with an Irish folk tune CD, and had been dismayed when she demanded that he take it back—
carefully
.

Heaven help them if the leprechaun was ever arrested, she thought. Officer Garten would probably be the one to catch him. Then the policeman’s questions would get
real
interesting.

After Paddy had finished the bulk of his breakfast, and Farble had drunk a few gallons of sink water, Ali sat down and told them they needed to have a serious talk. They both stared at her with worried expressions, and she wondered how to start.

She decided it would be best to come straight to the point.

“What do you think about going back to the elemental realm?” she asked.

They looked at her as if they had been slapped.

“You want to send us away, Missy?” Paddy asked.

“No. I mean, you know, you’re not from around here. I was just thinking maybe you both wanted to go home.” She paused. “Does that sound like a good idea?”

Farble shook his head. So did Paddy.

“I’ve not got me pot of gold yet, Missy,” the leprechaun said. “You told me you would help me find it. Paddy cannot go back without it.”

Ali nodded. “True, I told you I would help you get your gold. But it was wrong of me to make such a promise. The reality is, you’re going to have more success finding gold in the elemental world than here.”

Paddy was unconvinced. He spoke in a wounded tone. “If Missy would use her fairy powers to help Paddy, he would have all the gold he needed in a single day. Then he would not mind being sent away.”

“I’m not sending either of you away,” she said. “We’re discussing the idea. And I can’t use my fairy powers to get you gold.”

“Why not?” Paddy asked.

“Because . . . that would be unethical.”

“What does that mean?”

“Ethics . . . they’re something most leprechauns probably don’t worry about. Look, this last month has been great. We’ve had a lot of fun together. But this world is not your world, it’s not your home.” She paused. “Don’t you want to go home?”

Again, they both shook their heads. This time Farble spoke.

“Love Geea,” he mumbled.

Geea
. The name she was known by in the elemental kingdom.

None of them knew her as Alosha, except for Nemi.

Alosha was her secret fairy name—a name, she had discovered,
that possessed a power all its own. But who, or
what
, Nemi was continued to be a mystery. She had spoken to him only twice: once he had appeared as a tree, another time as a crystal-clear pond. Both times the communication had been telepathic. Although invisible to her eyes, his love had been unmistakable, and she trusted him more deeply than she could explain to herself. She missed him as well . . .

Ali felt a lump in her throat. “I love you both, I do. But it’s because I love you that I think you should consider returning to your world.”

“When does Missy want us out?” Paddy asked.

“I’m not kicking you out. Stop saying that.”

Paddy lowered his head. “Paddy just wants to know when he should pack.”

Ali felt her eyes burn; she had to wipe away a tear. She spoke as gently as she could, but the words still sounded harsh in her own ears. “I’m thinking of going back up the mountain soon.”

“How soon?” Paddy whispered.

“Maybe tomorrow.” Ali hesitated. “Maybe tonight.”

Farble sighed but did not speak. Standing, he walked to the basement door and disappeared downstairs. For his part, Paddy did not finish his last egg, just went to the kitchen sink and brushed off his plate. Like the troll, he didn’t speak, did not even look at her, but quietly stepped out the back door and walked into the woods. All the while Ali felt not so much like the queen of the fairies in human form, but like a monster who only thought about herself. It was not true, of course, but she had learned long ago that the truth did not always help.

To soothe her guilty conscience, Ali went to buy them food. During the walk to the market, she debated if she would be able to pack enough meat and hard-boiled eggs so that they would have a fresh supply when they entered the elemental kingdom. Her own needs had to be considered as well . . .

For she planned to go with them.

To find her mother. To rescue her from Karl Tanner—Drugle.

“You’ll never find her!”

Those had been the last words Karl had shouted, that magical night on top of the mountain, and the way he had said it right then, it was as if he had been taunting her.
Ali, my dear foolish queen, look all you want in this world, in every town and building, behind every tree and under every rock, and you will not find her
.

His arrogance had been clear and, upon reflection, his reason had been obvious. Karl was positive she would not find her mother because her mother was no longer in this world. He had taken her out of this world and into the elemental kingdom. It was the only thing that made sense. Ali could not
feel
her near—and she could feel a great deal simply by reaching out with her mind. She could not feel her mother anywhere. Yet she had been
sure Karl had not lied to her when he had said her mother was alive. Karl had been too frightened to lie; she had been about to kill him.

“Maybe I should have,” she said aloud, as she walked.

No, that would not have been wise, not if he had her mother tied up somewhere. Yet Ali regretted, more each day, that she had allowed him to go free. It was just that at the time she had felt she had no choice. The Yanti had been about to open; the elemental army was invading. She’d had her hands full, to say the least. Still, she feared she had let him go for the worst of all reasons:
her
own arrogance. At that critical moment, standing atop the mountain, with what she imagined was unlimited power in her hands, she had felt Karl was nothing; just Drugle the Fool, a cowardly and corrupt adviser from her elemental court; a bug in the mud, certainly not a decent adversary, hardly worthy of her scorn. She had figured, the minute she got home, she would use her powers and find her mother, and then they would all live happily ever after. . . .

Until she had gotten home and had reached out with her magical mind and found . . .

Nothing. Neither her mother nor Karl.

He could not be around, not even in the state, she would sense it.

He must be in the elemental kingdom as well, Ali thought.

Or else . . . what? Shielded somehow? From her? Was that possible?

“Anything is possible when nothing is clear,” she told herself.

The biggest grocery store in town was on Breakwater’s largest street, which was called, fittingly, Main Street. The street was also the address of the city’s only barbershop: Harry’s Haircuts. Ali was walking by the shop when she saw Harry Idaho passed
out in the chair near the door. His mouth was wide open, he was snoring loudly. Had Harry been eighty years old and a habitual napper, she wouldn’t have been surprised. But Harry was forty and fit—she had never seen him lying down on the job before. What made the sight even more peculiar was that there was a customer in the shop, near the back, an old guy with long white hair and a white beard. He was sitting patiently, staring at himself in the mirror, and appeared to be waiting for Harry to wake up. Had the old man not been dressed entirely in white—which gave him a vague resemblance to a wizard—Ali would have continued on her way without stopping. But her curiosity was piqued. She stuck her head inside.

“How long has Harry been asleep?” she called over, hoping her question would wake Harry up. His position was far from flattering; he had drooled on his shirt. He was out cold and did not even stir with her remark.

“He was asleep when I got here,” the old man replied, glancing over. She noted his pale blue eyes, how old and young they looked at the same time.

Ali stepped inside. She was tempted to shake Harry, but kept thinking he would wake up any second. “Never seen him passed out like this before,” she said.