The Freaks

by Veravine

Tragedy strikes the Animorphs... or is it simply a new beginning?

CHAPTER 1

"From what I have heard, the Howlers were nothing. This is, truly, the most dire threat you will face, simply because no one can tell you what it is."

Wait a minute: that's probably not the place to start.

Erek came to meet me in my meadow one gloomy, damp day, because Jake, Rachel, Cassie, and Marco were in school and he couldn't find Ax or Sarah anywhere. (Sarah, as it turned out, had spent the night over at Rachel's and spent most of the day in the forest with Ax.)

Wait. That's still not a good place to start.

I'll try the beginning. Like why I live in a meadow.

My name is Tobias, and I'm a red-tailed hawk. Red-tailed hawks like me prefer to live in meadows, because that's where our favorite prey lives. I'm a hawk because me and four of my friends met my father, who gave us the power to change into any animal we touch. The catch was that, if we stayed in an animal's body for more than two hours, we'd be trapped in it forever.

I think you can guess what happened to me.

Later, I met a semi-omnipotent creature called an Ellimist. I did the Ellimist a favor. In return, the Ellimist gave me back the power to change - to morph, as we call it. The catch there was that I am still a hawk. The Ellimist took me back in time to acquire myself - that is, touch my human self in order to acquire my old DNA so that I can become who I was for two hours at a time.

Life's full of catches. For me, life is also full of weird surprises. Like meeting a dying alien in an abandoned construction sight. Like becoming part of a very small band of freedom fighters against an enormous empire. Like becoming trapped in a bird of prey's body in the very first battle against that enemy. Like discovering that dog-like androids have lived on Earth for thousands of years because they had to implant the essence of their creators in wolves so that the essences didn't die completely, and in the process made dogs. Like being played like a puppet by a semi-omnipotent being. Like discovering a fear of closed places, roofs overhead, and being too low to the ground, when you know you never had them before. Like discovering the dad you never knew was the alien from the construction sight.

Each one has a catch involved. Each is weird. And, of course, each came as a surprise.

Erek is an ally of ours. By "ours", I'm referring to my friends, the others who fight this empire with me. He is one of those androids I referred to. He is able to create a hologram around him that makes him look human. He and others of his kind have infiltrated the ranks of the empire, and act as informants for us.

That was what Erek was doing. He was informing. And the news wasn't good. It almost never is.

Flashback to a few minutes before:

It was a Tuesday, a gloomy, overcast, damp, still day, the type of day that I hate, both as a human and a hawk. It's depressing and unpleasant to my human self, while the bird in me doesn't like the difficulty it makes in flying, and that prey tend to be very cautious on days like that. There were no natural thermals - absolutely none. Any flying meant a lot of flapping.

It was about ten o'clock in the morning when Erek came. That was the first surprise. Erek poses as a boy about the same age as me and my friends. He should have been in school.

He looked around the clearing, then spotted me. He smiled. "I'm taking a sick day," he told me. He waved at me, motioning that he wanted me to come down to his level. I spread my wings and leaped, converting my height into momentum as I glided down to the ground a few feet ahead of him. Erek sat cross-legged in front of me, and pulled something from his pocket. It was a computer disk. He fingered it as he began to talk, his pleasant smile gone.

"I have bad news," he said bluntly.

So I figured, I replied.

Now, you're possibly wondering how I can talk if I'm a hawk. Part of the alien technology that lets my friends and I turn into different animals also allows us to speak with our minds - except Ax, of course, who can naturally.

I'm getting off-track. I'll just keep it simple and say that it's called thought-speak, and that you'd better get used to it.

Erek didn't smile. "It seems Udrak was not exaggerating when he said Visser Three is getting desperate to find and entrap or extinguish you. He asked the Council of Thirteen for permission to use the othyb here."

Let me explain once more. I'll keep it as brief as possible. Udrak was a Yeerk - our enemy - who didn't like the side he was on. We fight the Yeerks because they want to take over our world. All Udrak wanted was to live in peace with Casey-Sarah, a human girl who had acted as his host for several years. They were so close, it was almost as if they were the same person sometimes. Udrak died to save Sarah: now Sarah is one of us. She misses him a lot. Because the Yeerks know who she is, and destroyed her past, Sarah hides out with Erek and the Chee. She lives underground in a sort of dog-heaven park, here some of the Chee make life as normal for her as possible. "I will never hate history again," she told us once. "The Chee definitely have a way to get you into it. Literally." This would be referring to the Chee's awesome holographic technology, and the fact that they've been here since before the pyramids were built.

What are othyb? I asked.

Erek frowned. He tapped the diskette against his knee. "That's the major problem," he said. "No one really knows." He stopped fidgeting with the disk and held it up, as if I could have missed the fact that he was holding it. "This is an Andalite report the Yeerks intercepted. It has far better information than any other database we've found, even if most of it is speculation."

Why are you giving it to me? Why can't we just go to Sarah's-

Erek sighed. "You do know that it is a minority of us who fight the Yeerks." I didn't answer. "The majority has gotten... prickly... about you. For Sarah's sake it's probably better if I simply give it to you." He frowned a little. "Do you have someplace you can put it where it'd be safe until you can give it to someone?"

Just leave it with me, I said. I'll bring it to Cassie's as soon as you're gone, via Redtail Air Express.

Normally Erek would have smiled. He didn't. "This is very serious, Tobias," he said. "There may not be much solid information on the othyb, but the rumors are enough to give you nightmares." He looked at the disk. "Even the Andalites are worried, though their automatonous science community doesn't sound so much worried as annoyed at the mystery. Don't let the tone of this file fool you." His holographic eyes looked back at me, searching out my gaze until his eyes made contact with both of mine. "From what I have heard, the Howlers were nothing. This is, truly, the most dire threat you will face, simply because no one can tell you what it is."

What truly made me worry was not what Erek had said so far. It didn't really sound as dire as some of the things we've faced. What made me worry was that, at that moment, Erek scowled.

Erek never scowls.

"Not even me," he said.

CHAPTER 2

"So let's open it already," Rachel said impatiently.

"It's loading," Marco replied. "Jeez. These things take time, Rache, and it's a big file."

"Why?" Ax asked. "Why? Ww-I-ee must it take time? It is a small file." He made a strange face. "'W' makes an odd sound," he said, then added for good measure, "Wha."

"What would the world do without the 'w'?" Sarah asked innocently. "We would wallow in weirdness, without 'w'."

"We're already wallowing in weirdness," Marco said. "Between you and Ax, we've plenty of weirdness."

"Aren't you forgetting someone?" Rachel asked sweetly. She ruffled Marco's hair.

"Hey!"

"One," Ax said. "That also sounds like wha. Why does it not begin with 'w' as well?"

I traded a look with Jake. Cassie was too busy shaking her head with her face buried in her hand to see. Jake rolled his eyes. I chuckled. "Welcome to the world of Animorphs," I said.

"Wha," Ax said, still not finished his study of the sound of 'w'.

"Whoa is right!" Sarah said, leaning forward. She put her hand on the back of Marco's chair and put her weight on it. "Didn't think this program was supposed to look like this."

"It's not," Marco replied. The computer screen had gone from blue to pale gray. "Man, if it doesn't go back my dad's going to kill me. He hates it when I play with the settings."

Once again, I think I'm a bit ahead of myself. The seven of us - Jake, our leader, Rachel, our local Xena: Warrior Princess, Cassie, our "tree- hugger", as Marco calls her, Marco, our wise-cracking strategist, and Sarah, our resident Yeerk-expert, along with Ax the Andalite and I, Tobias the Birdboy, both in morph, were all crowded around Marco's computer. His dad has a job at some advanced technology sort of thing, so Marco's setup is completely state-of-the-art. Some of the stuff he has isn't even sold publicly.

It was also the very reason why we had to be there.

You see, the Chee had encrypted the disk. Erek had explained it to me, but he was secretive. He wouldn't even tell me the code. Instead he gave me a riddle.

Finally, a white rectangle appeared in the middle of the screen. A pale blue rectangle appeared inside of it, taking up the top half, so that these letters appeared:

ENTER PASSWORD:

_______ - SIRINIAL - ______

Marco laughed. "It's so simple. This is way too easy," he said. He began to type.

ENTER PASSWORD:

ELFANGO - SIRINIAL - ______

"What?" He frowned. "It doesn't fit!"

"It's Ax's turn," I said. "Let him sit."

Marco and Ax switched places, Marco still muttering. Ax craned his neck awkwardly to see behind himself, to look at me. "What is this riddle Erek told you? Riddle. Diddle."

"He told me to ask you something." Ax nodded, which looked painful, considering the angle he had his neck at. I concentrated, getting the words into the exact order Erek had given them to me. "He asked me, to ask you...." I paused one more time. "'What do you miss most, since you were stranded on Earth?"

Ax smiled. "As Marco said, 'It is so simple, it is too easy'." He finally stopped craning his neck as he turned to look beside him, in the other direction, where Marco was standing. "And this time, it will fit." He looked down at the keyboard, muttered something about "quaint", and filled in the blanks. As he said, it fit:

ENTER PASSWORD:

NOORLIN - SIRINIAL - COORAF

"Say what?" Marco asked.

"I said no such thing," Ax said, looking at him, confused. He shrugged, then turned back to the screen.

Another confused look crossed his face. "What do I do now?" he asked.

"Try hitting 'enter'," Rachel suggested.

"No! Press enter. With one finger. No, actually, here - let me do it," Marco said quickly. He hit enter. The screen went blank. He responded to our glares with a slightly startled look. "The last thing we need him to do is break the keyboard," he explained.

"Who is 'Noorlin-Sirinial-Cooraf'?" Cassie asked.

Sarah cut in before Ax could answer, possibly saving us from a long explanation. "What would you miss most about being a few bazillion miles from home? Your parents." Ax nodded.

The screen changed color again, going from gray to pale peach. Ax nodded again. "Yes," he said. "This is the color of flatscreen files, or thought-speech documents put into written form. Most likely, this is one of

the latter files."

Symbols suddenly scrolled down the screen. They then changed, one by one, but too quickly to follow, into our alphabet.

"Whoa," Marco said as he and Ax switched places again, "not only do I have the fastest modem in the state, but now I have an automatic Andalite- English translator built into my hard drive."

Erek was right: it was written completely scientifically. It was the type of thing that would put you to sleep, if you didn't know that it might directly affect you without warning. Marco and Sarah kept a running commentary as Marco read it aloud.

CHAPTER 3

The Othyb Report

by Tevea-Sirinial-Berain

The Council of Thirteen of the Yeerk Empire has a great many dangerous, powerful weapons. Its greatest are those of biological nature - for instances, their, shall we say, naturally "discreet" nature-

"Oh, yes, discreet," Sarah sneered.

-their Hork-Bajir shocktroops, and the abomination, Visser Three himself. However, what little we know of their most recent and powerful weapons, known only as the othyb, threatens to outweigh even the obvious dangers of the morph-capable Visser Three.

"That's reassuring," Marco quipped before continuing.

Information on the othyb is sketchy at best, due to the low number of unfatal casualties in conflicts involving the creatures. Most warriors are found dead upon the arrival of aid; all others are beyond anything but the most minimal comforts. Fatalities in conflicts known to have involved the othyb are an unbroken one hundred percent.

"No," Sarah said. "That's reassuring."

This makes their threat even more disturbing than that of Visser Three, whose fatality rate stands at eighty-four percent; this may be higher for his time in charge of the current invasion of a remote planet, but information on that region of the war remains at little to none, due to the lack of warriors in that sector.

"Look, Ma, I made a scientific journal!" Sarah used a sort of squeaky, five-year-old type voice that made us chuckle a little. I know these quips might seem annoying, but keep in mind - Erek had all but promised we'd be meeting these things face-to-face. Joking about it is a little better than dwelling on how much Ax - and probably most Andalites - loved to be unfailingly precise.

The concrete knowledge on these creatures is minimal, taken from spy reports and captured allies of the Yeerks. The most obvious piece of information - although not the logic behind it - is the origin of their name.

Othyb is a word in Galard meaning "malformed, vile freak of natural or unnatural origin". As what reports we have received on the creatures tells nothing of "ugliness", so to speak....

"So to speak?" Sarah cut in. "Andalites actually say, 'so to speak'? I thought my grandma was the only one who said 'so to speak' in this century."

"We do say 'so to speak'," Ax said. "It is an accepted phrase."

"Never mind, Ax," Sarah said tolerantly.

.... we can only surmise that rumors of the Yeerks actually bioengineering these beings are true, and that they were meant to be something else entirely. A genetic sample from one of our spies - a three-foot-long strand of pale, purple- colored hair -

"Purple hair?" Marco repeated. "I thought these were supposed to be monsters, not punks with gigantic mohawks or something."

"Ax is blue," Rachel pointed out. "What's so hard to accept about purple?"

"Punks, monsters, po-TAE-to, po-TAH-to," Sarah said. "Get on with it."

...a three-foot-long strand of pale, purple-colored hair - shows the creatures to have many of the same genetic markers as Hork-Bajir, but also a great deal of unidentifiable markers from a species we of the Andalite scientific community have labeled, for lack of a name, "species unknown".

"The originality of it is killing me," Sarah said.

.... This is strong evidence in support of the bioengineering theory, suggesting that the othyb are a combination of Hork-Bajir DNA and the genetic material of a lifeform our people have not yet made contact with.

All other information is unreliable at best. The number of othyb is unknown, varying in reports of respectable agents from as little as three up to thirty; the most logical conclusion from available information is at least four, as it is known that four creatures, labeled othyb, hold rank in the Empire. Sub-Visser Nineteen is a large, dark-skinned creature, estimated at being between ten and fifteen feet tall, and rumored to have functional, micro-skeletally supported wings. Ruthless and cunning, this othyb is quickly climbing through the ranks of the Yeerk Empire for their quick and deadly efficiency in dealing with any foe. One report goes so far as to say that, quote: "the only reason he is not a Visser already is because he is still a mere child", end quote. This statement exemplifies two favorably possible but thusly unproven rumors - that Sub-Visser Nineteen is male, and that "he" is no older than twenty-eight years -the time since Seerow's Kindness. Sub-Visser One-Hundred-Nine has been reported to have an exact likeness to their othyb superior, but for their paler flesh and different eye color.

However, Sub-Visser One-Hundred-Nine has been part of the Yeerk Empire for nearly the entirety of the time since Seerow's Kindness; at the time of their first known appearance roughly a year after that occurrence, they were already full-grown. This knowledge leads to numerous possibilities. Among them, the greatest still being debated are: is Sub-Visser One-Hundred- Nine a, or the, parent of the more recently discovered othyb, and, in that context, did they mate a Hork-Bajir and are actually "species unknown", rather than an othyb at all? Or, did they merely join the Empire at an earlier time? If this is true, then why are they so closely related to Hork-Bajir, and where are the rest of their people?

"Is Elvis dead, or was he just an Andalite who had to go home?" Sarah quipped.

"Was Vanilla Ice a Controller, or was he just born without musical talent?" Marco said.

"Was the lady from The Nanny replaced with a Sirenblaker at birth, or does she just have a really annoying voice? If so, why is it that nothing but a Sirenblaker can naturally sound even remotely like that?"

We all looked at Sarah in confusion, even Ax. "Sirenblaker?" Rachel echoed.

Sarah shrugged. "Not that that's bad or anything. She just sounds like one."

Jake shook his head. "Can it, you two."

Marco continued, instantly serious again.

Harder to discover was the existence of two of Visser Three's newer personal lieutenants, Grers Two and Seven.

"Grer?" Cassie interrupted.

"It is an honorary rank some Vissers give to their closest lieutenants," Sarah explained. "Udrak held that rank for a long time before we were given Sub-Visser status. From Visser to Visser it means nothing, but under the Visser that gives you that rank, you have all the privileges of a ranking officer."

"Captain's Club," Marco said. "Better medical and vacation plans, more time off, and meals every day in the Visser's exclusive Yeerk pool."

"What's scary about you, Marco," Sarah said, looking down at him, "is that you sometimes have a habit of taking the words right out of my mouth. That's not quite right, but close enough. Read."

.... Previously Grer Four and Grer Twelve of Visser Seven, they were given their promotions in order to aid Visser Three in his invasion of the previously noted world upon Visser Seven's recent demotion. These reputed

othyb, however, defy the descriptions of the previously noted Sub-Vissers, the most obvious flaw being the lack of the aforementioned micro-skeletally supported wings. Grer Two, in fact, is reputed to resemble nothing more than a Hork-Bajir of twice the natural height and half the average width of a common creature of that race....

"There's a joke in that somewhere," Sarah said. "I just can't seem to find it."

Marco shrugged.

...Conversely, the descriptions of the more mysterious Grer Seven vary so much that it is impossible to state anything as fact but for their lesser height than the other three, and their, to quote: "delicate and deadly appearance", end quote. The only piece of information about Grer Seven's reputation that has remained perfectly consistent is that they are not entirely sane, and often act without reason, logic, fore- or afterthought.

"That reminds me of someone I know," Marco said, looking back at Rachel. "I just can't seem to remember who."

Rachel smiled in spite of herself. "Read, Marco."

.... The loyalties of both Grer Two and Seven have been put under question at various times - Grer Two because of, quote: "insubordinate and at times treasonous language and small acts", end quote: Grer Seven's questionable loyalty is based more on their previously mentioned mental condition; their former Visser asked that they not be transferred, because of, and I quote from the pirated information from that transmission: "recent success in suppressing mental instability and the reciprocal nature of anger expression", end quote. Although none of our agents have come into actual physical or visual contact with Grer Seven, then Grer Twelve, one of our spies made it clear to us that this othyb rarely attacked those who provoked them, but often killed for no apparent reason. Most of those killed by them, we have discovered, were ranking officers that caused a noticeable shift in the Yeerk hierarchy; they are refuted to have played a part in the death of the Visser they were under before Visser Seven, but this is merely a rumor without any known basis on fact. This "tendency", for lack of a better term, is the most logical reason behind their actions, but our agent has given us the strong impression that Grer Seven has little to no interest in rank; to their understanding, this othyb is almost automatonimous in nature, following orders exactly as required and speaking only when necessary. The general lack of information on Grer Seven, being that they are considered the most dangerous of the four but for Sub-Visser Nineteen, is disturbing and must be corrected as soon as possible.

"Yeah, but don't rush or anything," Marco added.

"I got that feeling, too," Sarah said. "Who was 'automatonimous' again?"

As there are strongly believed to be more than just the ranking othyb - all but physical proof has been presented for the recent existence of twenty-two othyb within the last thirty years - we lack hard evidence for the exact amount. The difficulty in discovering this lays in the nearly impossible truth that the existence of the othyb is protected from unranking Yeerks. The reports from our informants make it painfully obvious that those Yeerks who have heard mention of these beings tend to believe them to be nothing more than a myth to frighten them, much as the Ellimists are to our children. Only our unending research and the persistence of our best infiltrators have proven that these creatures, do, in fact, exist.

"It's possible," Sarah said. "You'd be surprised how possible it is. That is exactly right. Even Esplin thought they were rumors until he found out Visser Seven had some." Esplin is part of Visser Three's normal name: 'Visser Three' is just his rank. "Now he's got his hands on these things? We got problems."

"Not that that's new or anything," Marco added before continuing.

Like any mystery and myth, many questions and rumors surround the othyb. A common rumor is that they are unable to be infested by a Yeerk. If this were true, do they serve the Yeerks willingly, or in enforced conditions? The known fact that at least four officers of the Yeerk Empire are othyb - and, in fact, that they are the only othyb who are proven to exist - seems to make the second possibility very improbable.

"You think?" Marco's tone was not kind, to say the least.

.... The existence of Sub-Visser One Hundred-Nine refutes the idea that the Yeerks actually created these creatures. This, however, along with their small numbers, makes a minority of us wonder if, in fact, they are traitors against, or spies for, their people. This remains little more than speculation.

Three major questions plague us - the mystery of Sub-Visser One Hundred-Nine's past, the mystery surrounding Grer Seven, and the mystery of the othyb's relationship to the Hork-Bajir.

"That Elvis thing is bothering me now, too," Marco said.

"I assure you, Marco," Ax said in a voice bordering on condescending, "Elvis is not an Andalite name."

.... The first is impossible to solve without the actual cooperation of the officer himself. The reasoning behind the second is a curiosity at best - why would the Yeerks go through a great deal of trouble to mask the existence of so lowly an officer? What is it about them that the Yeerks risk all things to hide them from even their most trusted allies? Of course, these questions can be applied to othyb in general. Our greatest discomfort is the lack of information on the one othyb considered to be as lethally dangerous as Vissers Five and Seven combined.

"Now that," Sarah said, pointing to the phrase on the screen, "is probably the most reassuring line in this whole essay."

"Let Marco finish," Jake said.

.... Our inability to recognize this creature on sight is a severe threat to all free peoples. The third question is the least in importance, but the most curious of all. Our people were not given the opportunity to fully explore the Hork-Bajir world; is it possible another race resided there as well, one overlooked in the horror of the Yeerks' unforeseen power? Or, perhaps they are an older race, that resettled on another planet of a different system; it is possible, though unlikely, that a race could have evolved billions of years before the Hork-Bajir, before the asteroid known to have struck and changed the planet came, only to evolve, eventually, into the Hork-Bajir. It is possible that this race, if it existed, evolved into two separate races - the Hork-Bajir, and the other which we can only call "species unknown".

"That's not right," I said. "Jara Hamee told me what the battle between the Hork-Bajir, the Andalites, and the Yeerks was like. There wasn't any other sentient race - at least, not one that at all resembled a Hork-Bajir."

"I would like to hear that tale," Ax said.

I frowned a little. "I don't know about that, Ax."

Marco gave us a dirty look, as if he was enjoying reading our death sentence, and continued.

.... If this is true, then it stands to reason that Sub-Vissers Nineteen and One Hundred-Nine are of this "species unknown" - othyb - and that Grers Two and Seven are hybrids of the two races. This would explain their lack of "wings". However, this is merely speculation, and not to be considered fact: there is absolutely no information on the biological history of the Hork-Bajir and speculation is worthless in the face of that truth. More likely, the number of othyb is small because their race is capable of inter-systematic travel, and one ship was captured. One must wonder, however, where the rumor of their inability to be infested originated. If it is true, then what cause do the othyb have to serve the Yeerks? For this, the majority of us do not believe this to be anymore than what we have labeled it - an unprovable rumor.

The discovery of the existence of these othyb, rather than answering questions, only leads to more perplexing, disturbing questions that have no indirect route to solution. Nothing less than the capture of one of those associated with either their discovery or creation - whichever rumor being true - or one of the othyb themselves, could possibly answer any, if not all, of our questions. For the safety of the Andalite people, it is our duty to inform all citizens of this new threat, and the military of the extreme importance of learning more. We hope to have more answers as quickly as possible, but it is unfortunate that without the intimate knowledge we seek, such a thing is simply not possible.

Thank you for your patience.

Ax frowned suddenly. "Could you return to the top of the document, Marco?"

"Sure," Marco replied. He held down the control key, and hit "home", returning immediately to the very top of the file.

"Hey, what's that?" Cassie asked. She pointed to seven figures that hadn't been translated with the others.

"The embedded program must have only been set to translate Andalite glyphs," Sarah said. "That's Skrit Na."

"Yes," Ax said. "Yeerks prefer to use a Skrit Na timetable. Their days are three times as long as Earth's."

"Perfect for the Yeerk pool schedule," I said.

"Yes," Ax said again.

"So that's a time?" Rachel asked.

"It is," Sarah replied. Then she frowned. "I think. Udrak didn't particularly care for Skrit Na: he'd already switched to a human timetable when he infested me. What time is that, Ax?"

"More importantly, why is it on an Andalite transmission?" Marco asked. "Is this a hoax?"

"No, I do not believe it's a hoax," Ax said. He leaned on Marco's chair, in the same way that Sarah had, but more carefully. In his normal form, Ax has four legs; on two he feels off-balance and strange. For him

to walk on two legs is kind of like a person first learning to walk on their hands. He's gotten pretty good at it, but he's not exactly flawless. "And it isn't a time - it's a date. Most probably, it is the date the Yeerks finished decoding this transmission. It was most likely a visual, z-space transmission between planets, for a conference on the subject. Unfortunately, the file does not include any visual aids that may have been used in the actual presentation; this appears to be a mere transcription of the speech on othyb."

He grimaced. "If this date is correct, I believe we have a serious problem."

"Why? When was it?" Rachel demanded fearlessly.

"Not when," Sarah said, reading Ax's expression. "When isn't the question, is it? It's how long." She scowled. "Ax, how old is that report?"

"By my calculations," Ax replied tonelessly, "it is one of your years, three of your months old."

"A year and three months?" Cassie echoed. "That means-"

"That means they're here," Sarah said. Her eyes narrowed. "Tobias, I think Erek lied to you."

"Why?"

Sarah was a Controller for seven years. In that time, she and the Yeerk, Udrak, became symbiotes - that is, instead of him controlling her, they lived almost as one being. Udrak died so that Sarah could live: because he died while within her head, she retains many of his memories as if they were her own. She also acts like him sometimes, when you least expect her to. When I looked at her, wanting an answer to my question, her eyes were narrowed, and her mouth scowling bitterly - an expression Udrak often used.

It meant that she was about to say something that I really didn't want to know, but she wouldn't hide. "It sat badly with me that an Andalite transmission would be so lightly guarded," she replied darkly. "The reason we have gotten this now is simple: the Yeerks have nothing to hide from their brethren here anymore." Her glare became more fierce. "Do any of you get it? The othyb are here. Now."

Marco scowled. "Yeah, we get it, Sarah," he snapped. "We get it."

"Good. Just making sure." With that, Sarah popped the disk out of Marco's hard drive. "Well, that's that then," she said. "Reformatting is too good for this." She dropped the disk on the floor.

"Allow me," Rachel said. Sarah stepped aside with a flourish. Rachel stomped on the disk, cracking it in three places. She took her foot off of it gingerly, as if it would explode if she moved too quickly. Then she slapped her hands together a few times. "There we go. No more disk. Evidence destroyed."

"Not quite," Marco said. He hit the "close file" icon. These words appeared:

DO YOU WISH TO SAVE FILE?

Marco laughed. "I don't even know if I can," he said. He clicked "No". The screen blanked, turned pale gray, then returned to blue. "There," he said. "Now there's no way anybody could know."

I nodded, appreciating the necessity of the precautions, but Sarah's words haunted me.

"Erek lied to you," she had said. "The othyb are here. Now."

I also thought to what Erek had said: "This is, truly, the most dire threat you will face, simply because no one can tell you what it is. Not even me."

Had Erek seen the othyb? Was that why he was so negative about it?

I planned to find out.

CHAPTER 4

"No, I haven't seen the othyb."

Sarah had gone "home" after the meeting - that is, to the underground park where the Chee keep a few hundred dogs as pets and Sarah has been living for the last few weeks. I'd gone with her, to talk to Erek.

Right then, I was balanced on a low tree branch, looking down at Erek, Sarah, and Chee-Myani, the Chee who had taken it upon "her"self to look after Sarah. She didn't have a human name, having ended her current human life, and hadn't restarted one yet. Sarah had taken to calling her "Mia", which stuck.

"No one has, yet," Mia said. "I've been asking around." Some of the Chee don't like the idea of Sarah living with them; some have gone so far that they refuse to talk to her. "Visser Three has been keeping them secluded in his private quarters. Only the Grer are allowed there now."

How many Grer does Visser Three have? I asked.

"Less than fifty," Sarah replied. "When Udrak was last a Grer, he only had thirty-two. I think he's taken on a few more since then, but not too many."

"There are currently fifty Grer under Visser Three, exactly," Erek said. "But only the top twenty-four are allowed to enter his quarters."

"How many othyb does he have, do you know?" Sarah asked him.

Erek shook his head. "At least two. I know that Sub-Visser Nineteen is there, and Sub-Visser One-Hundred Nine. Everybody knows that. Otherwise?" He shook his head again. "No idea."

"There are those that say they've seen 'flashes of red' through the door," Mia said. "That could mean that the third othyb is here."

"Flashes of red?" Sarah echoed.

Mia sighed. "From what I understand, there's some part of the third othyb that is bright red. What, we don't know. That's all anyone's been saying: because of 'flashes of red', it's possible that the third othyb is here."

That report you gave us said that two that were previously under Visser Seven were sent for, not the Sub-Vissers! I said. I didn't mean to, but I sounded as if I was accusing the Chee of treason or something

Erek looked up at me. Without his hologram, his android self didn't appear at all uncomfortable with looking straight up. "Indeed," he said. He frowned as he lowered his head again. "That would make four."

"The four known to exist, you mean," Sarah said. She coughed. "There's still some unaccounted for."

"No one knows if there really are any others," Mia pointed out.

"There are," Sarah said. "No one really knew that they existed, but the rumors were that there were nine. Only one was supposed to be giant and winged, not two. The second was supposedly weak and timid. The third was insane. The fourth and fifth were twins whose minds were one. The sixth was horrible and ugly, the seven short and winged, the eighth like a warped Hork-Bajir, the ninth tiny and beautiful. That's how it went, anyway." She frowned. "Later, it was said that the second had sons far worse than the first

generation. But how many is something Udrak and I never heard. Some say twelve: some seven: last I heard was twenty-eight. There's no telling how many othyb there really are, but I'm guessing that there's at least the nine."

Why would the Yeerks fight to keep these things so secret? I asked. That doesn't make sense.

"The less that know, the less that can tell," Sarah said. "After all, you heard that report, same as I did. Half the power of the othyb is the mystery they hold. No Andalite has returned after seeing them. That's the second half. Andalites are currently flying through space, shaking in their hooves because they don't know the face of death." She sighed. "God, I'm tired."

Mia felt her forehead. "You're hot again, Sarah."

Sarah smiled a little. "Oh, goody. What's your diagnosis, Dr. Dog?"

"Probably getting that cold again."

Cold? I asked.

Mia looked up at me. "Sarah's been fighting off a cold ever since she came down here," she said. "I've tried telling her that morphing will only put it off, but she won't listen."

Sarah stood up. "Dear, dear Mia," she said tolerantly, "I can't afford to be sick. I have a world to save." She pet a passing Irish setter. The dog stopped, panting happily, enjoying the attention. Its tail wagged so hard its entire back end shook. When Sarah stopped petting it, it licked her hand and romped away. Then Sarah began to morph.

Something is wrong with how Sarah morphs. No one knows what makes it happen, but Sarah morphs way too fast - so fast it hurts her. She cried out as her knees suddenly reversed direction and her fingers began melting like wax. Fur shot out all over as her ears squirmed higher on her head. She moaned in pain as her mouth began to warp outward. Her spine elongated into a tail so quickly there was a constant, popping sound as each new vertebra came into existence. She panted tiredly as she shrank to size, and her eyes lost the green tint they have to become completely brown. That wasn't actually half bad, she said, still physically panting. She licked her dog lips. Not too much shrinking. That's what really hurts, you know - shrinking one piece at a time.

"She morphed a Chihuahua once," Mia said. "She broke three legs when one began shrinking before the rest."

The morphing healed it, Sarah said defensively.

"I'm telling you, Sarah, you have to learn to control your morphing," Mia scolded her. Sarah stopped panting, glaring stubbornly at Mia through big brown dog eyes. "If you don't, you're going to end up breaking something already morphed, and then where will you be?"

Hopefully here, Sarah replied before bounding off after the original setter, laughing.

"Sarah!" Mia called after her.

"Let her go," Erek said. He smiled wistfully after Sarah. "Man, I'd love to be able to do that."

Mia smiled at him. "We all would." Then her smile vanished. "But if she keeps morphing, she's going to hurt herself, I swear."

Any luck finding out why she morphs like that? I asked.

"Personally, I think it has something to do with Udrak," Mia said.

Udrak? But he's dead.

"He wasn't when Sarah used the device. She said that, when she used it, she felt a burning that went up her arm and into her head. It might have been some sort of fail-safe in the Escafil Device, to keep Yeerks from using it. Udrak wasn't in her head at the time, but there was still a great deal of residue from his recent leaving of it." Mia frowned. "Otherwise, if it's not that, then why would she suffer so much?"

An allergic reaction to the technology? I suggested.

Mia shook her head. "Doubtful," she said. "Such a thing hasn't ever been heard of."

"There is a definite difference between an allergic reaction to the technology and what Sarah goes through," someone else said. "It's more of a malfunction."

Another android approached. It grinned an odd grin, made strange by a jowled, muzzle-like mouth. "Hiya, Tobe," it said. "The simplest description is 'fast forward'."

Hey, Brian, I replied. Brian is the name Chee-Veedric, this Chee, went by. He's the only Chee I've known to grin without the use of a hologram. He prefers being called Brian. What are you talking about?

"Case, of course," "Case" is what Brian calls Sarah. "There's little else to talk about around here." He shrugged. "After the first thousand years or so, conversation gets old. I've always said we should keep a few humans down here. No offense intended, Tobe, but after a while even they would be more interesting than seeing how high you can count in three seconds."

"I reached ninety-four billion once," Mia put in innocently.

You never mean offense, Bri, I said. But I'm afraid you're not succeeding.

Brian's pout was exaggerated by the jowled build of his face. "I thought you didn't mind my poking fun at the human race."

Nah, it's nothing like that, I replied. It's that whole "Tobe" thing.

"Tobe, Tobe, Tobe," he said, grinning again, "you know I never call anybody by more than one syllable if I can help it."

"Jake is lucky in that respect," Mia muttered coldly, but she was smiling.

According to you, the Animorphs are Jake, Cass, Rache, Tobe, Coe, Case, and Ax. I laughed in spite of myself. Of course, I think Marco has more to complain about, but... that's beside the point. What's "fast forward"?

"Case's morphing," he replied. He remained standing, looking at me as he spoke. "The speed is key. This cold hanging around has been helpful in trying to figure out the timetable. On average, Case morphs four times too fast. What should take a minute takes a little under fourteen seconds. Therefore, she feels four times the amount of pain. There are times when something changes so quickly, it causes you to gasp, correct? It is the illogical nature of morphing that causes Case's physical discomfort. Things are changing without others catching up in enough time to prevent pain. When, say, your wing grows, all the tissues in your shoulder have adequate time to catch up. For Case, it's not the same."

So you're saying she feels pain because she outruns herself? It was confusing, but in some weird way that was way, way above my head, it made sense.

"Something like that."

"One mystery solved," Mia said.

"One to go," Erek pointed out. "The othyb."

It was then that Sarah returned. Hey, Bri, you tell them the solution to my problem?

"Solution? Haven't quite found that yet. Just one thing I didn't tell you." He crouched down to her eye level, and rubbed her head. "Everything happens four times too fast, Case." Sarah's full first name is Casey-Sarah. She hates it; she prefers just Sarah. That's where the nickname "Case" comes from, though. "Everything, in fact, except for time limit."

That's good, considering I was Ax for almost two hours, Sarah chuckled.

"It does include," Brian continued, "the wear-and-tear on your body. Therefore, I hate to turn on you on this, but you're going to have to stop morphing all the time and just sit through the cold."

No way, Sarah said. She shook; water sprayed from her coat. Obviously, she'd gone for a swim. I have a world to save. No cold's going to-

"Stop you from that, ya," Brian finished for her. He ruffled the fur on her head, making her ears flop around crazily. "Morph out, you crazy little freak. Stop being a little baby and face up to facts: you're going to get a cold. So long as you're under this roof, you go by what we deem good for you."

Hmm. Moving out isn't exactly an option. Besides, how else can I get a great college education without leaving my bedroom? The changes, as always, were sudden and not very pleasant-looking. The first changes came in her limbs, as her knees reversed direction and her fingers cracked and snapped into existence. It took a long time for her muscles and skin to catch up to her bones. Oh, ugh, that doesn't happen nearly enough to the rest of you, she muttered, just as her muzzle shriveled into her face and

her eyes squirmed closer together, regaining their green haze. Her fur retracted even as her limbs began to stretch very audibly. Her ears slid down her head and shrunk to normalcy, as her black nose became peach and human and her lips formed, her hands caught up with her fingers, and human feet grew in between her finished legs and equally normal toes. She wiggled her fingers as, finally, her now furless, ugly tail began to crack and snap, the bones crushing as the rest of it retracted before the bones did. Then the bones just dissolved, and the worm-like remains slithered into the back of Sarah's cool looking, rubber-sole-footed wetsuit, which she uses for morphing. It is far cooler than anything the rest of us wear, but she's the only one who can afford to wear something so big all the time. The others are stuck in bike shorts, leotards, and tight tee shirts, because they have to wear them under their normal clothes.

One thing solved.

What about the othyb? I asked. Doesn't anybody have anything on them?

"The count's in," Brian said. "There's four. The two Sub-Vissers, and the two transferred Grer." For the first time, I saw Brian frown. He'd pouted before, as a joke, but never frowned. "And, at 8:12 tonight, there will be a commercial that'll appear in the middle of every TV show on every TV within a five mile radius."

"What?" Sarah demanded. She rubbed her left hand with her right: it's a nervous habit she has. "They don't have the technology to do that here!"

"They do now - the othyb brought it with them." Brian sighed. "It's made so that any normal person who sees it will think someone goofed and put in a commercial where it wasn't supposed to be. They've timed it in hopes of catching as many commercial breaks and as few actual shows as possible."

"That's mighty decent of them," Sarah said, but she wasn't smiling.

Brian sort of smirked at that, but didn't laugh. "It's aimed at the Andalite bandits. A trap."

Sarah nodded. I expected her to say, "Of course", which would be characteristic of the Udrak-look she was wearing; however, though her tone was right her interjection was pure Sarah. "Duh," she said.

Something no Andalite would refuse, probably, I said coldly.

"Actually, it would depend on the Andalite," Brian said, "but there's no way you can, either, because it isn't an idle threat. What the Yeerks are advertising is the end of this world as we know it."

"Why don't I feel fine about that?" Sarah asked bitterly.

Brian regarded her sideways. "Maybe you're smart," he replied.

CHAPTER 5

I was at Rachel's, in human form. Ax was, too, in an easy chair, looking bored and half-asleep. Rachel's littler sister, Sara, was sitting in my lap. A Barbie doll was sitting in hers, balanced there with her left hand. She was sitting in my lap because I was sitting on the couch in what she considered "her spot", and instead of telling me she had simply sat on me. In her right hand she had the remote control. She'd stolen it from Rachel just before jumping in my lap.

Rachel explained later that Sara was grumpy at the fact that their mother had refused to get her some new Barbie thing, and was trying to make some company for her misery. All I knew was that my nerves were

fraying away one by one.

The clock on top of Rachel's TV said 8:14.

"Maybe Brian was wrong," I said lightly. "Maybe it isn't on tonight."

"Or, maybe Sara has it on the wrong station," Rachel said. She winked; she knew as well as I did that what she was saying was impossible. If what Brian said was true, then the station we were watching really didn't matter.

I chuckled. "Maybe it isn't on cable yet," I joked.

"Are you tired of trying to save the world?"

"What??" Sara whined. Barbie fell to the floor as Sarah held the remote in two hands. "Why's there a commercial on?" Ax's head jerked up; I think he'd been starting to nod off.

Rachel shushed her.

"Do you feel alone? Frustrated? Frightened of failure?" A smiling face appeared on the screen. It was a computer-generated, two-dimensional puppet-like face, with a smiling mouth like a dummy, moving up and down in time with the words it spoke. Sara whimpered, obviously not liking the weird face. "Well, now the best solution to such uncertain feelings is being made available to you, the deserving public. For a limited time, you can surrender to a more enlightened culture's remedy for set-backs big and small." Rachel and I traded a look. Ax looked angry, his expression dark and his eyes glaring at the television. Sara, curiosity overcoming her, watched the weird, bluish face suspiciously. "Introducing, for the first time in this region, the othyb." The face thinned to take up only half the screen, and a new picture appeared next to it.

My first impression was that someone was making a big deal about a Godzilla doll. The picture was another obvious computer graphic. However, it wasn't Godzilla at all: instead, its resemblance was so close to that of a Hork-Bajir it was startling. However, the proportions were all wrong: it was far too thin, with too-long arms and legs. It was a finger short on each of its hands, and its finger talons were too long. Its skin was too light and what blades it had too small; it didn't have wrist blades at all. Two horns raked

from its forehead: instead of multiple spikes on the tail, its tail ended too soon, so that its end was pure bone. Where there should have been far more tail, the skin simply ended, to be replaced with bone. A single, small spike sprouted from the strange tail's bony end. The strangest thing of all, however, was that the thing was smiling. I swear, its mouth was curled up into a mischievous smile that was almost cute. It also made me realize that its snout didn't curve nearly as much as it should have, not to mention what

curl it had was in the entirely wrong direction.

"This othyb, like all others, is durable and comes with a lifetime guarantee," the computer-generated voice continued. "It requires little maintenance and comes fully equipped with all it needs to solve any irritating problem."

Sara looked behind herself at me. "They're selling a dinosaur?" she asked, confused.

"Even when you can't put a face on what's troubling you, othyb are fully capable of handling any problem," the strange voice said. "They will be made available tomorrow at three p.m. at the Exhibition Lobby at the mall. Supplies are extremely limited, so be sure to get there early!" The commercial faded, and another commercial, already in progress, took over.

Sara looked eagerly at her sister. "Rachel, can I have a dinosaur?" she asked. "Please? Do you think Mom would let me, if I promised never, never, never to ask for another Barbie ever, ever again?"

Rachel forced herself to smile. "Stick with Barbies, Sara," she said. "There's no way Mom would go for a dinosaur around here. Besides, where would we put it?"

"Just a small one!" Sara said. She slid off my lap, and grabbed her Barbie from where it had fallen. She ran out of the room. "Mo-om!" she cried. "Guess what?"

"This is bad," I said, keeping my voice down. "Very, very bad."

"That is a serious understatement," Rachel said, scowling. "Very, very bad is no way to describe the most deadly menace the Andalites have never seen being set loose in a mall full of curious, innocent people."

Normally Ax would have made some comment about it not being as bad as that, but he didn't. Andalites are a very proud race, but obviously he wasn't too proud to admit we had a big problem. "Many people could die," he said. "We must stop this."

"Ax is right," I said. I would have scowled if I remembered to, but I didn't. Since I became a hawk full-time and can only morph human two hours at a time, I've sort of forgotten to make facial expressions. "This is probably the most obvious trap the Yeerks could pull. But we don't have a choice, and they know it."

CHAPTER 6

Of course, Casey-Sarah didn't agree. "It's not the most obvious," she said. "Putting a Hork-Bajir on would have been more obvious, and would have given us less of an idea of what we were dealing with." She stuck a nacho in her mouth. "Also, we don't have to come. That's the kick. Andalites don't necessarily deal with bystanders. They don't care quite as much as we would. Or most of them - no offense intended there, Aximili."

"None taken," Ax replied, but he looked offended. He had actually stopped scarfing his fourth cinnamon bun when Sarah had dissed the Andalites.

Sarah, Ax, Mia, and me were sharing a table at the food court. It was 2:30, give or take a few minutes. Rachel, Jake, Marco, and Cassie weren't far away, but were at a different table to make it so we didn't really look like a group. Mia had set up a hologram around our table, so that everyone could see us, but it sounded as if we were discussing a math test we'd had earlier, not our strategy for the upcoming battle. It was kind of funny, because none of us were in our normal form: Mia had a human-like hologram on (though we could see her normal form, being inside the hologram with her), and Ax, Sarah, and I were all in morph. Ax and Sarah looked eerily alike: Ax's human morph came from mixing the DNA of Jake, Marco, Cassie, and Rachel, while Sarah's had come from just Cassie and Rachel, but the resemblance was still unnerving. Ax looked like a disturbingly pretty boy; Sarah's skin was pretty dark, but she had Rachel's blue eyes, and her hair was lighter than her skin, so that she was no better than Ax. To make

matters even stranger, she was wearing her cool-looking morphing outfit and jeans, but no shirt, which meant her "shirt" - really the upper part of her wetsuit - was rubbery and almost skin-tight. Of course, as Sarah would say, "the best place to hide is in plain sight", so we were pretty safe.

"That's nice, Sarah," I said patiently.

She stopped talking. "Point taken, mousebreath," she said. She calls me that a lot, but she doesn't mean it in a bad way. "So, anybody got a plan?"

"It is obvious that we have to clear the mall of all people," Mia said. Her hologram had strawberry blond hair and hazel eyes: it reminded me somehow of Shirley Temple, even though Mia looked about our age.

"That's our first priority."

Sarah scowled at Mia. "I still say you should have stayed home," she told the Chee bluntly.

"But I didn't, and discussing it wastes time," Mia replied. She leaned forward on her elbows. "So, does anyone have an idea?"

Sarah stuck her tongue out at her, popped the last of her nachos in her mouth, pushed the box aside, and crossed her arms. "Nope," she replied for all of us.

Not far away, Marco stood up, taking the small tray of stuff the others had been picking at with him. Both of our groups had sat near garbage bins, but instead of going to the one that was right behind his chair, Marco headed for the one behind Mia. "Looks like Marco might," I said. "Drop the hologram, Mia."

"Done," she said. The air shimmered, and then Mia looked like an older Shirley Temple again. She smiled. "Just like this conversation."

Marco dumped the stuff off his tray into the garbage. I swear that most of the food wasn't touched. No one was really hungry, it seemed, except Sarah and Ax. "Oh, hey, guys," he said, perfectly natural. "Didn't see you here."

"We were hiding," Sarah said wryly. "Any luck?"

"Yup, I figured it out and volunteered all in one."

"How are we doing it?" Mia asked.

Marco grinned. "Hey, does anybody know the oldest way to clear a room?"

Sarah shrugged. "I've learned a few new ones in the past few weeks, so most of the old ones seem kind of lame. Which one might you be referring to?"

"Can anyone think of anything more disturbing than minding your own business when someone comes running into the room screaming 'Fire!'?"

Sarah smirked. "Oh, I can think of plenty."

"You wouldn't," I said to Marco.

"You kidding?" Sarah said before I could say anything more. "This is probably Marco's dream come true." She grinned. "You've probably wanted to pull a fire alarm ever since someone told you not to." He grinned in reply and returned to his table.

"Pulling a fire alarm seems rather.... simplistic," Mia said.

"Hey, the easier to pull off," Sarah said. "Just one thing: we can't be taken out with the crowd. You know the two-bit security's going to usher everybody to safety. They actually have training for that, I think."

"Bathrooms," I said. "Stand on the seats - or go small - and no one will find us."

"Timing's a factor, then," Sarah said. "Looks like our turn to meander to the other table. Dibs." She picked up her tray and Ax's. "Be right back," she said, and headed casually over to the others. She made a big deal of covering Cassie's eyes and making her guess who it was. She wasn't long in coming back. "Okay, we leave in twos. Mia and me to our bathroom, you guys to yours. Our signal is Jake leaving: we leave a couple minutes later, then you guys, then Cassie, Rachel, and Marco. Cass and Rache have ten

minutes to get in stalls and changed before the fireworks begin."

I sighed. "Now we even have to plan when we go to the bathroom?"

"Don't tell me you forgot your housetraining," Sarah said wryly, looking at me out of the corner of her eyes as if worried. "Come on, I thought you were some macho redtail, not a lame old pigeon or seagull."

"Like I told Marco, it depends on who's beneath me," I retorted.

"Remind me to buy a hat before we leave," Sarah answered sweetly, "just in case." Just then, Jake laughed loudly, and stood up. He walked away toward the bathrooms. "There he goes," Sarah murmured. She had a slight smile on her face, like she'd forgotten to stop. She looked tired suddenly.

Mia didn't miss it. "Are you okay?" she asked, her eyebrows pulling down sharply.

Sarah smirked, chuckling, then looked at the Chee. "Mia, Mia, Mia," she chided. "Mia, honey, you worry much too much. You're going to blow a fuse."

"Sarah, if you're not feeling well, you can pull out of this," Mia said, not smiling.

"I feel fine, Mia." Sarah frowned a little. "We'd better be going." Mia frowned, too, but she stood up. Sarah stood, and stretched. "Let's swing by the Starbucks first," she said. "Get some coffee."

"Fine," Mia said, but she was still looking at Sarah as if she expected her to collapse. The two of them went off. Ax and I sat there until I couldn't stand it anymore, then went to the arcade to play the crane game a couple times ("If the prizes were not stuffed together so tightly," Ax said, "one might have a hope of winning something. This is pointless, considering the dense packing of each prize against one another."), then wandered our way into the bathroom by the food court. It was empty.

I closed the door firmly behind me. "Jake?" I breathed. There was no telling what he was.

I see you, I heard him say. I'm a fly on the ceiling. You guys took long enough: I was getting bored.

"Ax, into the handicap stall," I said.

"I know, Tobias," he replied. He shut the door to the stall behind him. "What do we do with our clothing?"

I stuffed mine in the trash, Jake said. I took a minute to find Cassie as she headed into the girl's room. We're all to meet in here in an emergency.

"Here, as in the men's room?" I asked. I stripped down to the morphing outfit that was somehow part of my human morph, and stuffed my clothes into the trashcan.

As Sarah said it, 'if you've seen one urinal, another can only be smellier.'

I chuckled. "You gotta admit, she's got a way with words."

As if Marco weren't enough, Jake replied, laughing.

There was one problem with Ax and me morphing: we didn't have to do it once, we had to go twice.

With me, it wasn't so bad. As the final changes came around, I hopped up onto the toilet seat and gripped it as tightly as I could, so that no one who might come in could see me. But, with Ax, anyone who might come in would see four blue deer legs: Ax can't exactly crowd onto a toilet seat.

I focused on the fly. For me, it isn't actually so bad becoming a fly. I get to keep my wings: they're just in a very different place, and function in a totally different way, that's all. It's not like being human, and stuck on the ground.

Of course, there's also the fact that I have six legs instead of two, and compound eyes instead of telescopic vision.

But I've gotten used to that. Honest.

We got lucky: no one came in the bathroom, even as my antenna sprouted, the last hairs on my very-unpretty legs grew into place, and the last of my internal organs dissolved away, leaving only the much simpler organs of the fly. I felt calm on the toilet seat: there was wetness, there was a definite, oily odor I wouldn't have found pleasant if I wasn't a fly, it was cool and where I was fell under the shadow of the flushing mechanism. Still, I couldn't chance someone coming in and managing to get the door open. I thought up, and my wings started fluttering several times faster than a human can blink. I shot straight up. Flipping at the last moment, I stuck an upside-down landing on the ceiling, about an inch away from another fly.

Who's that? I asked.

I was about to ask you the same thing, Jake replied. Where's Ax?

I am by the light fixture, I believe, Ax answered. Where are you?

Above the stall I was in, I said. Soon enough, another fly landed right in front of me. Hi, Ax.

Hello, Tobias. Where are you?

What? Aren't you sitting in front of me? The new fly buzzed off again.

No, Tobias, I see no other flies. I am currently in flight.

Well, at least we're not out of place, Jake said.

Suddenly, I felt a thrumming beneath my feet. It stopped, then came again. Stopped. Continued. It kept doing that in a regular pattern. My antenna tingled. There was a real buzzing in the air, one that I couldn't so much hear as feel. I think Marco's pulled the alarm, I said.

Yup, said Jake.

The door below us opened and shut quickly. Someone rushed into the only unlocked stall. I stared at them, until I saw a pair of somethings come shooting out of their head. Hey, Marco, I said.

"Hey," the person replied. "It was better than I ever dreamed," he said, looking up, around, trying to find us. "The sheer power of it. Gorilla, rhino, hah - give me a fire alarm any d-" He abruptly stopped talking.

Day, I should say, he finished for himself a moment later. The shrinking kicked in suddenly for him; he was soon out of sight. Stupid mandibles, can't even finish a decent cynical statement.

From then on it was pretty quiet. Nobody had anything to joke about, really. Marco and Ax finally joined up with Jake and me above the stall, but that was about it. It was down to the "waiting" part.

According to Ax, we only waited fifteen minutes. It seemed like an eternity. Very clever, Andalites! we heard Visser Three's voice, strong, confident, unafraid. Very simple, but effective enough. I don't want to waste my othyb on perfectly good hosts, anyway. They've orders to take you alive, but I cannot guarantee they'll follow them, Andalite bandits - they have a bad habit of protecting their own interests. I, of course, shall be keeping a safe distance. No need for my own host to be put into danger.

Wouldn't want that, Marco grumbled to the three of us.

Demorph and remorph, guys, Jake said grimly. The plan has run out: now it's time to wing it.

We are going to see the othyb, Ax chose to say right then. What no Andalite has lived to tell about.

Thanks for the reminder, Ax-man, I said. Inwardly I groaned.

We will survive it, and overcome it, he said.

Don't get cocky, Jake said. None of us are immortal. We've been doing good so far, but that doesn't mean our luck will hold out.

I don't think Jake realized just how prophetic his words were going to be.

I, for one, never expected what came next.

CHAPTER 7

I thought about the othyb report we'd read, and the picture on the television: I decided that hawk might not be the way to go. I chose to remorph.

The first thing that came was height. I seemed to shoot from the ground, from less than two feet tall to five in three seconds. Unlike Sarah, though, there was no tearing muscle or breaking bone: the growth was even, and I felt almost nothing. My feathers melted away, leaving bare flesh, which quickly became more like tough leather, and dark green, nearly black. Two horns grew from my forehead; blades began inching out of my elbows, ankles, knees, and barely existent wrists. My tailfeathers shrank inward,

solidified, then grew out again, this time in a dark green, balancing tail. Spikes grew from it. I gained another two feet in height.

Marco laughed. Halfway into his gorilla morph, he could easily laugh. See, I was pretty much a normal Hork-Bajir, except that I had yellow, oversized red-tail hawk legs and tiny, normal-sized, featherless red-tail hawk wings with severely undersized blades sticking out of them. I'd like my Hork-Bajir with drumsticks, please, Marco joked.

The changes, thank goodness, were hardly finished. My legs turned dark green, but otherwise there was little change. My blades, spikes, and horns reached full length. Finally, my wings began to mutate outward, ropy at first, then solidifying into dark green arms with full-size blades and deadly claws.

I looked around the bathroom with very weak eyes. Jake had gone tiger, Marco was finished with his gorilla morph, and Ax was... well, Ax. Nothing Ax had in his personal morph menagerie could beat an Andalite, so Ax just stayed as himself.

Marco opened the door for us, and we trooped out. Waiting for us was a wolf, a grizzly bear, a cheetah, and Mia.

We ready? Sarah asked impatiently. The cheetah stretched out its back, yawning a big yawn full of very sharp teeth.

Let's do it! Rachel said. The grizzly growled.

See what Mia and I have had to put up with for the last twenty minutes? Cassie asked us in a motherly tone.

"It doesn't make sense," Mia said quietly. "There is nothing in this mall besides the eight of us. I hear nothing." The wolf - Cassie - cocked her head slightly to the side, and whined softly.

I scented the air, and listened: Hork-Bajir have pretty good senses of smell and hearing. The mall was silent; the smells of the food court were overpowering, and, to the Hork-Bajir, mostly bad; they covered the scent of anything not close by.

If the othyb were here, they would make some noise or other sign of existence, Ax pointed out unnecessarily. Perhaps this is a trap of a different nature?

I didn't notice it at first - Hork-Bajir eyes aren't very good - but it suddenly registered that there a shift in the lighting. I looked up; we were under a skylight.

A skylight with something growing steadily bigger, probably approaching it in a slow decent. Whatever it was, it was shaped like an ancient battleaxe.

There was no doubt in my mind that it was far, far bigger than any battleaxe. I knew what that was.

It was a spaceship.

Incoming above us! I shouted. They're dropping from the Bladeship! I didn't know that: it was a guess. But it got the point across.

Scatter! Jake said. Cassie with me. Rachel, Ax, Marco - go that way. He nodded in a direction with his head. Tobias, Sarah, Mia, go downstairs. Without a word of protest we split up.

We were a story and a half above the lower floor, maybe fifteen, twenty feet. I ran to the railing, leaped, balanced, and leaped into space. I had been a Hork-Bajir before, and had been fighting them since the beginning. I'd even fought at their side. I knew I could make it. Mia simply picked up the full-grown cheetah - which really wasn't saying much; it was about the size of a short person and weighed maybe a hundred, a hundred twenty-five pounds, a lot less than Jake's tiger, Rachel's grizzly, or Marco's gorilla - and jumped over the banister after me. I landed in a heavy crouch, taking the shock in my knees; Mia landed silently, only bending her knees slightly, not far away. Sarah leaped out of her arms. Don't do that, she grumbled to Mia as she slunk a short distance away. That's what they make stairs for.

Above us, there was a shattering of glass, then a definite whoosh sound. I looked up: something green and gray soared over the open court, to land on the walk across the mall from the food court.

Something really big. With really, really big wings.

Oh, god.... Sarah gasped.

What? I demanded. I can't see!

It's.... it's a dragon, Sarah said. I swear, it's a dragon!

From above, I heard something speak. The language was semi- familiar, but I couldn't understand what he - at least, I think it was a "he" - said.

It's Galard, Sarah said. He says, "Do not surrender, Andalites. Do not be the cowards I cannot think that you are. Please, do not let those morphs go to waste."

Can he beat us? I asked her.

Tobias, he has talons three times longer than yours, and a really nasty tailblade that makes Aximili's look like a toothpick. Sarah drew back her lips from her impressive fangs. Plus, he has some mighty powerful wings. You can't imagine what sort of power he has on his back alone. Plus, he's razors everywhere. No wrist blades, but there's two elbowblades and kneeblades per limb, all serrated, not smooth-edged like yours. Ridges over his eyes, horns over his face, spines down his back, thick plates on his stomach... we can't win against that thing, Tobias. It's a living weapon.

It doesn't sound any worse than some things we've faced, I said, but my stomach was in knots.

I don't think you understand me, Tobias, she snapped. He's got talonlength, strength, and protection that make you look more like a worm than a walking razor! Plus, I think I forgot to mention, she added grimly, he's over twice your height.

I looked up. All I could see was a very big, black-green blur, with something gray behind it, and the blobby wings behind that.

We're in trouble, I said.

The creature spoke again. He wants to know if we're going to fight or surrender, she said. He wants a fight.

He's going to get one, I answered. I mean, what else is there? I'm not giving in.

Good for you, Sarah replied. Her head turned toward the creature above us. We'll see who's the coward! she called out. Stop crowing and fight talon to claw, othyb!

The creature above us was big: with one step, he was next to the banister; another, and one leg was on the floor, the other on top of the banister - a good four and a half foot difference! Yet it looked no different than if you put one foot on a chair and stood on the floor with the other. He pushed off with the upper foot, launching into space, and spread his enormous wings. Flapping hard enough for me to feel the rough breeze from his wings from twenty feet away - and smell his odd scent, slightly like a Hork-Bajir, but more like horseradish and brand-new leather - he descended slowly, as if he didn't have a care in the world.

As the creature - the othyb, whether Sub-Visser Nineteen or One Hundred-Nine there was no way of knowing - descended, I got a better picture of what he looked like. The picture wasn't good. For one thing, Sarah hadn't exaggerated in her description: a fin-like ridge ran down the length of the semi-crocodile-like snout, protecting the front of the head; two larger horns, curved and placed side-by-side a little higher than where a human would have ears, protected the back, looking like stretched, curved parodies of chainsaws. A thick mane of smoke gray - the gray thing I had attributed to part of its color - protected its neck, like a lion male's mane does his, but extended down his back to his knees - a good ten feet in length. Thick, beige-yellow plates, like those of a crocodile's underbelly, ran from where his jaw connected with his neck right down his front, between his legs, and down the length of his tail; the dark green skin, although a lot like my own, looked tougher, more like leather. While the plates protected his front, a double row of spines protected his back, and the flesh of his tail simply ended two feet before his tail did, leaving a heavy, part club-like, part sword-like, tailblade.

You know those pens that separate in the middle, the ones that you can unscrew and split in the middle to take out the ink well? Well, move that middle part about three-quarters down the length of the pen, remove the ability to screw it apart, and stick it in a pencil sharpener that sharpens one side so much that it glitters, and you have an idea what that tail looked like. It reminded me of a Grim Reaper's scythe, but that the blade was way too long, and that, instead of being attached to the side of the end of the pole, the

blade part had been glued to the end. It's hard to explain.

Just take my word for it: I took one look at that eight-foot long tail, a

quarter of which was bone death, and knew I was done for.

To make matters worse, Sarah hadn't exaggerated the height of the creature.

Imagine a school bus. Now imagine a dragon, no wider than your average person, standing a head taller than that school bus.

The thing was fourteen feet tall. Closer in height to the second floor of the mall than my seven foot height.

Of course, I haven't made mention of his over-a-foot-long finger talons, or the small spike at the end of his snout, at the base of the fin-like ridge, or his wings. The wings were like nothing I have ever seen: they had the same basic structure as mine, with the upper-arm/lower-arm/pointer finger configuration that bird wings have (if you look at the main bones in a bird's wing, and the ones in a human's arm, you can see that the wing is mostly made up of the same bones as a human's upper arm, lower arm, and pointer finger), but that was where the likeness ceased. It more closely resembled a bat's wing, with leathery flesh to catch the air - the backs were the same green-black as his skin, while the front sides each had a filmy

membrane that made them look vaguely bluer - and thin lines, like webbed fingers, for support, but the bones were no bigger than human finger bones.

So that's what "micro-skeletally supported" meant. Supported by really tiny bones. Tiny being relative, of course.

The othyb turned to look at me. The corners of its reptilian snout turned up just slightly, and its eyes squinted nearly shut. They were a vague, foggy green, and appeared to constantly shift color. He spoke in an almost friendly tone.

Sarah gave a short growl. He wishes you luck... "brother-in-form".

I won't need it, I said bravely, but my back-turned knees felt like putty.

The othyb did a strange thing then: he lowered his head, closed his eyes, and turned up the corners of his mouth even more. It was almost like a grimace - or a grin - revealing evenly spaced, glimmering white teeth, like those of a shark, but only one row of them. Then he opened his eyes again; I realized suddenly that I had one advantage: thanks to the fin-like ridge and the orientation of his eyes, the othyb had no binocular vision whatsoever, except when he lowered his head like that. However, that did not explain the

demonic look of glee. He spoke in a murmur, almost a purr.

He says that it is good we are unafraid, Sarah said. The more fun to kill us.

"Arctesch!"

Startled, I whirled away from the othyb, which was possibly the last thing it expected me to do.

I don't know what I expected to see, what I thought had snarled out that strange sound, like a mix of a hum, a growl, and a curse.

I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't there when I looked.

CHAPTER 8

It stood not twenty feet away; only a filminess thanks to my poor Hork-Bajir vision marred my otherwise perfect view.

It wasn't as tall as the othyb, or as dark: in fact, it looked like a strange mix of the othyb, a Hork-Bajir, and something mythic....

.... something beautiful.

It stood at about twelve feet tall, with skin of a medium green. It had stomach plates like that of the othyb, but they were larger, thinner, and yellower, and grew progressively thinner as they went down the length of its tail until they were little more than discolored flesh. Instead of the othyb's somewhat rectangular snout, its own narrowed more, coming to a gentle point that curved downward like an understated Hork-Bajir beak. Instead of a fin-like ridge it had a long horn, which ended in a prong, faintly resembling a hand-held bottle opener. It had the same side horns, though they were shorter and weren't serrated, as the othyb's were. Rather than melted chainsaws, the side horns looked like those of a goat, only a lot more curved. Its eyes were yellow with the faintest bit of green, like antique gold, and seemed to swirl with internal shadows. Its talons were not as long as the othyb's, and curved only slightly; it had smaller spines down its back, and no wings to speak of - only two short, ragged stumps at its shoulderblades. Overall it was delicately built, but with wide shoulders and long legs, giving it a more balanced look,; it did not look nearly as delicate as the othyb, but delicate enough to seem unreal.

Two features made the creature absolutely stunning, however. One was its mane - though much shorter than the othyb's, its was not dull gray: instead, it was a brilliant red that, when mixed with the neutral green of its thick, smooth skin and yellowish plated stomach, gave it an even more unreal appearance, like something out of a coloring book. The other was its tail - thinner and longer than the othyb's, it was at least as long as the creature was tall. Like the othyb, its tailblade took up about a quarter of the length of the tail, but that made the harshly glittering weapon over three feet long. Not only that, but it was as if one of my tailspikes had merged into it; about two-thirds the way down the terrible tailblade there was a short, almost thorn-like protrusion, equally glittering and curving easily with the tailblade. If the othyb's tailblade made Ax's tailblade look like a toothpick, then this new creature's made Ax's look like a splinter.

"Arctesch," the creature snarled again, "we are not here to kill."

I was surprised to hear the creature speak in English. Oddly accented, yeah, but still very recognizable English. I was even more surprised when the othyb - Arctesch? - answered in it, with an even heavier accent.

"Dear, dear Jivvie, you heard our Visser," he said in a patient tone, "he does not hold us responsible for defending ourselves."

"Against a Hork-Bajir and a..." The new creature, for lack of a term for Sarah, simply waved in her direction. It didn't seem to even realize Mia existed. That was when I noticed that, in Mia's place, there was a tree in a huge stone urn, identical to other trees of that nature that were all over the mall. Of course: without the ability to hurt anything else, Mia was stepping over the sideline. The new creature's lipless mouth pulled upward, away from slightly smaller, but just as pointed, teeth as the othyb had. Of course,

since the newer creature's were two inches long, you have an idea of how badly I wanted to keep my distance from the othyb's mouth. "That is not defense. That is sport."

The othyb sighed. "You always have a way of destroying my fun, Jiv. I remember when you used to be so much fun."

The other snorted harshly, but made no reply.

Tobias?

I glanced at Sarah, while trying to keep an eye on both the othyb and the other creature. What?

That other one.... the redhead.... I think that's the mystery othyb.

Huh?

Remember "flashes of red"?

It hit me like a brick: yesterday evening, with the Chee.

"There are those that say they've seen 'flashes of red' through the door," Mia said. "That could mean that the third othyb is here."

"Flashes of red?" Sarah echoed.

Mia sighed. "From what I understand, there's some part of the third othyb that is bright red. What, we don't know. That's all anyone's been saying: because of 'flashes of red', it's possible that the third othyb is here."

You mean, the one trying to save our lives is the insane one?

Save our bodies, Tobias. Get it straight. And yes - I think that "Jivvie" is our mystery psychopath.

Are you getting the sense these two don't get along? I asked her.

No, she replied. She crouched down lower to the floor. I sense that Grayhair thinks they're best of friends, while Redhead has had more than his fill of his friend, and life in general. A lot like Esplin and Udrak.

What was strange was that the two creatures seemed so unafraid of us, as if we didn't matter. It was as if they were two brothers fighting over action figures: the figures had no say in the matter, and there was no way they'd be going anywhere. "You were always soft, Jivvie," 'Grayhair', as Sarah called him, said, sounding smug.

"We were not sent to kill, Arctesch," 'Redhead' replied in a low growl, baring his teeth more.

Arc-tess-cha, or whatever - I think that's Grayhair's name, I said.

Yeah, Sarah replied. Their throats are different from human ones - whatever it is, there's no way you or I could manage it.

'Jivvie' doesn't sound right, I said.

No, it doesn't, she agreed. I get the sense that it's a nickname of some sort.

Means these guys have known each other for awhile.

"Jrikvelh," the larger of the two snapped, "were it any but you, I would have killed you for insubordination... Grer."

"So you would, Sub-Visser," Jrikvelh - that's the closest I could spell it: the first sound was so soft, it was hard to tell if it was a "j" or an "h", and the "kv" part could have been "vk", they were so close together - replied sharply. "But othyb do not kill their own."

Remember that, Sarah told me. Man, I wish I could acquire one of these guys. We're no match for one of them!

If we're lucky, we don't have to be, I replied. If we're lucky, they'll fight each other.

Don't hold your breath, Sarah muttered. Be ready. She was still tensed, ready to move in an instant, which, as a cheetah, she could do; I had been beginning to relax. Stupid!

"No, we don't," Arctesch said agreeably. "Now, I'm in a foul mood right now, Jiv - understand, I've spent the last twelve hours up listening to Visser Three rave and rant. The price of rank sometimes." The corners of his mouth turned up: yes, it was a smile. It had to be. "If I don't kill something I'm simply going to burst. Now, I've always loved you, you know that, so I'm willing to compromise. Pick one of them, and they are yours. The other I will kill." Sarah and I shared a frightened glance.

The other snarled softly before answering. "Agreed." Sarah snarled at her. "You, spotted one. Good luck."

No, I said, standing up straighter. I will fight him.

The almost-golden eyes glared at me, and the pupils visibly changed shape and size. Although the creature appeared to have better binocular vision than his companion, I got the feeling that he had the worse eyesight. "I have chosen, Hork-Bajir fraud," he said, his voice low and almost a snarl. Though he sounded angry, since he hadn't ever spoken in a different tone, that might have been his normal voice. "You shall live." The gaze turned back toward the other othyb. "Don't play with it, brother."

"You are no fun, Jrikvelh."

"We are not here to have fun, Arctesch. Kill it and be done with it."

The left side of the larger one's lipless mouth pulled up slightly, as if in a partial snarl, but the voice came out sounding almost chiding. "Do not tell me how to make my kills, Jivvie. Remember who it was who taught who."

I was about to speak when Sarah cut me off. Go, Tobias. I've tried calling the others: Rachel and Marco are up against another one. Jake is helping them. Cassie is hurt; they say she got stepped on. Why hadn't I thought to call for help? If the others can't take on one, how much of a fight do you think you have, alone, against that one?

Haven't you been listening?

Tobias, they know a Hork-Bajir: they know its strengths, weaknesses, you name it. Neither of them even know what I am. They know what you can and cannot do; they don't even know my species. I have the better chance.

Sarah-

Tobias, don't make me knock some sense into you. Go toward Redhead, and leave me to my fight. Then, so that the othyb could hear, she said, I agree to your terms, othyb. My life for my cousin's chance at redemption. But you- she said, looking toward Jrikvelh, -you and my cousin shall go to the floor above, where neither can aid their companion.

"Agreed," Jrikvelh said.

"You won't be able to see from up there," Arctesch told his ally.

"I have no want to," the other replied coldly. He looked at me again. "Come, Andalite." There was no trace of hate in his voice, as Controllers always had for that word: could it be true that these were not Controllers? "We shall go above. Do not make me carry you."

You won't have the pleasure, I snapped. I turned on the ball of my foot and walked, with no urgency, toward the red-haired othyb. Jake! I screamed, not trying to sound the least bit brave, Jake, I've got a stalemate with one of the othyb, - to stretch the truth - but the other one's going to rip Sarah to shreds in two minutes! We need help now!

I'd love to, Tobias, but hang in there! I heard him reply weakly. We were nearly out of range. This othyb has Cassie behind him, and sliced off Ax's tail with his talons, so Ax is out of the fight, too! Rachel's bleeding bad, she's going to lose consciousness soon if she doesn't morph out - she and Ax are headed your way, but I don't know when they're going to get there!

I stood next to the othyb and glared, eye-to-eye, with him, but my mind was elsewhere. Rachel! I tried next. Hurry!

I'm morphing as fast as I can, Tobias, she replied, her voice strained, but I've got problems of my own right now, and yo- She stopped talking very suddenly.

Get to the first floor, then go elephant! I told her. We need the power!

The othyb regarded me. "Upstairs," he growled. Side by side, neither of us willing to have the other behind him, we climbed the stairwell Mia, Sarah, and I had ignored completely. "You do wisely to call to those who have made no promise," he said under his breath, "but your friend has no chance."

I was surprised: how had he known that I was calling for help? You do not know my friend, I replied coldly.

The othyb looked at me more closely out of the eye on the same side of his head as I was. "Nor does Arctesch, but I know Arctesch," he answered, just as coldly, "and therefore I know your friend has no chance."

Are you the one they call insane? I asked, taking an unfair shot.

"I am," the othyb replied, not at all offended.

What is your designation, othyb?

"I am Othyb Zero-Seven-Three," he replied. "Below is Othyb Zero-Two-Three... my older brother. The other your allies fight is Othyb One-Eight-One - my younger one. We better know ourselves by name rather than what our creators call us. Below is Arctesch; your friends fight Juvrenz, and I am Jrikvelh."

I was surprised - again. Jrikvelh did not seem insane at all, just... tired. Bored, almost. So the Yeerks did create you.

"Unfortunately for us both," he replied softly, more darkly than before. "And for them. May they rot alive for it." He looked at me, and I saw something there... something in his eyes. Like amusement, and challenge. "Not all of them regret making the othyb, but they will."

I looked at him. Why do you serve the Yeerks if you hate them so much?

"I hate them no more than I hate you, and there was no such thing as 'why' for many of my years," the othyb replied blandly. "'Why' is a new concept for me, one I am taking to slowly."

No "why"? Did he mean that he had never wondered, why was he created? Why did he serve the Yeerks? Why was there a war? I understood the absence of "why": hawks have no understanding of "why", because everything is done by instinct: there is no such thing as "why" because there is no thought involved. A hawk doesn't wonder why a mouse turns left instead of right: that's what its instinct tells it to do. It doesn't wonder why a man cuts down a tree: he simply does. The absence of "why" simplifies

things greatly, but it rules out thought entirely. Everything is done without purpose. I felt sorry for the othyb: without "why", it looked as if he had doomed himself to blindly serve the Yeerks forever. I wish you could fight with us, I said. We could use someone without 'why'.

"As I would wish I could spare your friend, if wishing were not a waste of anything put into it. Neither is very possible, Andalite." He glanced at me with the eye on the same side I was on again as he gripped the banister with both hands. We were at the top of the staircase, and a little ways away; he was closer to the staircase. "Your friend shall be the only casualty today, but a death is a death."

'Only casualty'? You plan to capture us, but-

"I plan nothing of the sort," he hissed. Then the corners of his mouth turned up, just the slightest amount. "As the Visser said, he cannot guarantee that we will follow orders. We are difficult children."

You plan to allow us to escape?

"The rest of you," he reminded me, keeping his gaze fixedly downward. Below, Arctesch and Sarah, having stared at each other since Jrikvelh and I had reached the top of the stairs, began to circle each other slowly - Sarah in a stalking crouch, Arctesch dropping to all fours with his wings held close to his body. Their movements were so alike it was eerie. "Your friend is beyond my help, but when it is over, I will face Arctesch. You will run to your friends - those that remain. When you see them, Juvrenz will fall. Then you all shall run. Is that understood?"

How do you know Othyb One-Eight-One will be defeated?

Jrikvelh glared at me. "He will fall," he snarled softly, before returning his gaze downward. "Watch your friend, Andalite," he told me. "Do her at least the honor of that."

Below, the circling continued, but Sarah and Arctesch were closer now, Sarah being not three feet away from the edge of Arctesch's wing. "She is too close," Jrikvelh murmured softly under his breath. "His wing. He'll attack with his wing."

Sarah, move farther away! I spoke softly, not wanting to startle her or to make her lose concentration. He'll hit you with his wing if you don't. Below, the circling did not waver, but the circle widened.

"Your companion made the deal - neither of us help them," Jrikvelh said curtly. "Do not break that bargain again, Andalite." I didn't bother to deny what I had done: I fell silent, gripping the banister, straining my poor eyes to see. "If it hurts so much to see, demorph," Jrikvelh said, noting my strain.

How do I know I can trust you?

"How do I know you are an Andalite? You don't hold the smell of one, although you cannot have been in that form long. Nothing is ever truly certain, not even death. Demorph, do not demorph, it is of little matter to me." With that, he stopped paying any attention to me.

The feathers came first: I saw Jrikvelh glance at me as the changes began. My tail shriveled up even as tailfeathers began to sprout, and my blades began to soften into pinfeathers. My eyesight began to improve by degrees. Then the shrinking kicked in, and the banister seemed to shoot upward, quickly catching up and surpassing my height.

"So you are not an Andalite after all," Jrikvelh said. As far as I could tell, he had not turned his gaze from below, but obviously he had seen that I was not becoming an Andalite. "Your friend made the first move, creature. You'd best hurry; she chose unwisely to go for his back. She is lucky to still have four limbs."

It'll take another minute.

"She may not have that time." Jrikvelh turned away from the banister, and leaned toward me, his tail whipping out behind him. I tried hopping away, more hawk than Hork-Bajir, but it was no use; his talons surrounded me in a sort of razor-sharp basket. One set of fingers - he had two very long fingers, and one long thumb, on each hand - wrapped gently around my neck, while the other sort of scooped up my underside from the marble. He placed me on the banister, keeping the gentle grip on my neck until my feet finished morphing, and I could grip it on my own.

Why-

"I keep my promises, bird." He turned away again.

I could now see far better than I wanted to. Sarah's left front leg was bleeding very badly; it was useless. Her tail was missing a foot and a half of its end. She panted with pain, but managed to snarl fiercely at the same time.

"A resilient morph, Andalite," Arctesch said, not even winded.

A resilient Andalite, othyb, Sarah shot back. Make your move, for I will not make another.

"A good strategy." Arctesch shot left, and Sarah's eyes followed him. It was a mistake, as his tail came at her from the right.

"Do not speak to her, bird," Jrikvelh warned me. The tail hit Sarah in the side, slamming her sideways. Arctesch had used the flat edge of the blade, however. "He's playing with her," Jrikvelh snarled. "He was warned." Jrikvelh seemed honestly angry. There was a screeching sound as his talons dug into the banister.

The police should have opened the mall by now, I said. I'm not exactly sure why I said that.

"The Visser planned for this," Jrikvelh said. "Only Controllers surround this marketplace."

That was not a pleasant thought. Then how are we supposed to run?

"Don't run, then," Jrikvelh replied tonelessly, not really paying attention to me. "You are not limited to that."

Sarah climbed back to her feet; now her right hind leg was useless, too, the hip shattered from the force of Arctesch's blow. A cheetah's strength is its speed, and she could barely stand - not good odds at all. Arctesch reared up on his hind legs again. He shook his head, looking disappointed. "Such a weak form. I was wrong, I suppose." He reached for Sarah: she snapped at him, almost losing her balance, but he easily dodged her teeth and gripped her throat. "Perhaps you are right. Perhaps only the host is resilient. More the pity that Jrikvelh chose you to die." He tightened his grip. "I'll be honorable to you, at least." With that, he brought up his other hand, and slapped her across the snout.

There was a loud crack as Sarah's neck snapped.

But at the same time, there was another crack, from an entirely different place. It came from Sarah's left hind leg, as it grew two feet longer in a single second.

CHAPTER 9

Arctesch let go of Sarah in surprise. She fell four feet to the floor in a heap that was rapidly losing fur.

There was a crackling sound as her bleeding tail retracted, and five more snaps as her other limbs, three of them now broken - her other hind leg had broken in the fall - became whole, human ones. Her muzzle flattened with a crumbling sound, as her ears slid downward and her eyes went from dark gold to hazel. Her fur gone, her hair grew back, wavy and thick but short, like a forest of small, light brown snakes. She stumbled to her feet as her morphing suit - a wetsuit - formed around her, and as her claws retracted into her hands.

Her head still faced nearly backwards, however. As I watched, half fascinated, half overjoyed, it rotated, and with another snap, her neck became whole again.

Sarah started moving toward the othyb, three times her height, and grinned. "Care to try that again?" she taunted.

"A human?" Arctesch said. He smiled too. "And so quickly! A welcome surprise, human. I am no longer disappointed."

"Good for you."

"Good for you," he corrected. "Perhaps I should not kill you after all."

"Don't you othyb finish what you start?"

"True..." Arctesch shrugged. "Too true. A pity. I could come to like you."

"Don't get attached."

Arctesch simply stood there, not at all afraid of the human. After all, him against the cheetah had been like a pro wrestler against an alleycat: what did he have to fear from the human? "How is it you know of all this, human?" he asked politely, as if he and Sarah, not Jrikvelh and I, had a truce.

"I was Udrak Eight-eight-eight," she answered coolly.

"Sub-Visser Thirty-one? I had wondered what became of him. Dead, I would assume."

"No. He lives."

"Oh? He does?"

"I said I was Udrak. I did not say I was not him any longer."

"I would doubt you, but it is little matter."

"And you, othyb? What is your history?" Sarah asked, leaning against the tree that was Mia.

"I serve my Empire," Arctesch answered lightly. Jrikvelh bared his teeth and snarled, but said nothing.

"So you're a Controller as well."

Arctesch threw back his head, closed his eyes, and burst out laughing.

Sarah leaped forward, and pressed her hand against his stomach plates.

"No!" Jrikvelh hissed. "Child! Do not morph him!" he shouted. Sarah glared upward. "You morph him, and his sanity becomes yours," he said. "You must never morph an othyb."

Why? I asked, but received no answer.

"No help, remember, sister?" Arctesch called upward. "Let the child morph me. Go ahead - it would be amusing to see you do it," he told Sarah.

Sister? Jrikvelh was female?

Oops.

"I won't give you the pleasure," Sarah snapped.

"A pity, that, too, I suppose." Arctesch gripped Sarah's arm, his talons - far less careful than Jrikvelh's - slicing into her skin like knives in half-melted butter. Sarah gritted her teeth, but did not cry out. "Shall we try this again?"

"Let's not." Sarah's torso burst outward, and her arms and legs shriveled into sticks; Arctesch's tight grip became too loose, and she slipped to the floor again. She shrank at a shocking speed, her now six limbs jointing and her hazel eyes bursting into compound ones. Her hair disappeared except for two strands, which whipped out above her. In less than ten seconds, she had gone from bleeding human to healthy grass- hopper, and in twelve seconds she'd hopped twice, landing ten yards away from Arctesch.

"A small creature cannot hide from me, human," Arctesch said.

"A lie," Jrikvelh sneered. "Unless he knows where she is, he cannot see her. His depth of field is too narrow."

I fought against the urge to swoop down and get Sarah to safety. A deal was a deal: Sarah was on her own.

What was taking Rachel and Ax so long?!

Now Sarah was fifty feet away; she began to demorph again.

Too much, I said, remembering what Brian had said. Sarah would tire four times as fast as the rest of us: this was her fifth consecutive morph in under a half-hour. Five consecutive morphs in one day are tiring for the rest of us. I couldn't imagine how Sarah had to be feeling.

I got an idea of it as the changes were completed: Sarah fell to her knees, unable to stand. She was breathing heavily and shaking all over. I didn't see how she was going to morph again without passing out.

"Your friend is ill, bird, but she still fights." Jrikvelh said. "She does you honor."

She's one of the best.

"Yes she is," she agreed sadly. "You will suffer for this."

I looked at her sharply: she was looking downward. Neither her stance nor tone had suggested a threat. I suddenly realized what she meant - that Sarah's loss was going to hurt us badly.

Yes we will.

"Good luck to you, bird - you and whatever your other allies might be."

"A good fight, human," Arctesch said. He walked slowly, calmly, toward Sarah. "You got one hit - when you purposelessly acquired me. That is more than any have been able to say."

With difficulty Sarah raised her head to look at him hatefully. "I am the servant of the People," she hissed. "I am the servant of my Prince." She swung one nearly unresponsive leg forward, so that she seemed to be genuflecting. "I am the servant of honor." She struggled to her feet, clenching her fists, and stared at Arctesch. Her voice became strong, unwavering. "My life is not my own, when the People have need of it!" she said as strongly as she could. She swayed, rebalanced, and forced herself to meet Arctesch's foggy green eyes again. "My life is given for the People, for my prince, and for my honor," she hissed between clenched teeth.

I stared, knowing what Sarah meant. I knew those words, because I had heard them once, many months ago.

It was the Andalite Death Ritual.

Sarah knew she had no chance.

No.... I whispered to no one.

"That ritual is not of your people," Arctesch pointed out, not four feet away from Sarah.

"For most of my people, our death ritual is going on our knees and begging for mercy," Sarah replied harshly. "You won't have that from me. I choose my own death."

"A pity to kill one like you," Arctesch said, sounding honestly saddened.

"I don't want your pity," Sarah snarled. "But I'll give you your pleasure." With that, she began to morph one last time.

She grew first, her bones crunching and grinding as they increased in length. Heavy talons descended from her fingertips. A tail began to grow from her back as her face bulged outward, her skin darkening to a nearly black green.

"No!" Arctesch snarled. He swung his entire body sideways, snapping his tail so quickly toward Sarah's lengthening neck that his tail cracked the air like a whip.

This time, he used the sharp edge.

Good-bye, Sarah, I said softly.

I barely heard it: I'll never be certain if I imagined it, but I thought I heard an answer. But I could swear I heard Sarah say, Good luck, mousebreath. Keep Ax company for me.

CHAPTER 10

Jrikvelh leaped sideways, onto the banister of the staircase, so suddenly that I spread my wings in panic.

She slid downward, her talons screaming against the metal banister as she surfed down it like a skateboarder without a skateboard. With a harsh snarl she leaped off the end of the banister at Arctesch. Her long, curved talons raked downward, but only one connected, leaving a deep, bloody gash down the side of his snout.

Arctesch snarled in surprise and pain. He bared his teeth and hissed at Jrikvelh, before seeing who it was. "Gehl!" he snapped. "What in Orba's blood did you do that for!"

"You played," she hissed. "You played, so now we lost two of them."

"Two? You let yours go?" he growled.

"He watched you massacre his ally."

"This is war, Jrikvelh. If he could not stomach-"

She slashed at him again. He moved out of the way; her movement had been slower, though. She hadn't wanted to injure him that time. "Do not anger me, Arctesch. You forget - I have gotten far more than one hit on many occasions. Do not make this one of them by arguing with me."

"I suppose the human's one hit was rather wasted," Arctesch hissed under his breath, his tone dangerous. "Let this count as it, then."

I spread my wings again, and flew off, calmly making a note that Arctesch, though a higher-ranking officer than Jrikvelh, was afraid of her.

At least, he let her get away with giving him scars.

My thoughts were calm, because I was in shock. I knew that if I started to scream I wouldn't be able to stop.

Sarah was dead.

Dead.

Dead.

There have been times, when the others have seemed to be dead. I've even had the occasional close call. There was, of course, the first battle, which left me trapped as a red-tailed hawk. Twice, a red-tail was killed, and I was lucky it wasn't me. Once, Jake got swatted as a fly; I'm not even sure how he morphed out of that one.

But this time....

There was absolutely no doubt: Sarah, half-morphed into Arctesch, was dead.

Ahead of me, I saw Ax and Rachel. Rachel was barely conscious; somehow, she had strapped herself to his back with four belts forming two straps, and one of those designer scarves women sometimes wear was tied around her face. She moaned as he skidded to a stop on the smooth marble. Tobias! You are unmorphed! Ax said, surprised. He had his tail back; obviously, he had morphed and unmorphed.

Never mind that, I said. We have to go now.

What about Sarah and Mia? Where are they?

Mia's hiding in a hologram. Sarah's dead.

What? Ax cried. His tail arched upward. Rachel groaned at the movement, and shifted.

What happened to Rachel?

Ax visibly shivered, but managed to reply calmly. We chose a bad place to remorph, he said. Marco, Jake, and the othyb fell upon us. She was not seen, but was injured. We managed to escape to another shop.

We have to go back toward the others. Where are they?

Below us, last I saw them. Cassie is injured; the othyb refused to let us near her.

I'll morph back to Hork-Bajir in order to get her. You lead the way.

I remorphed, ignoring the exhaustion I was beginning to feel at morphing so many times. Sarah hadn't.... I put the thought out of my mind, concentrating on morphing as fast as I could. Lead on, I told Ax as the last of my blades grew into place. He turned around and headed back the way he had come: I followed at his heels, keeping my mind blank, forcing myself not to think.

It wasn't long before we could hear the continuing fight between Marco, Jake, and the third othyb: the crashing of glass lead us straight to another open court closer to the south exits. Jake and Marco were both bloodied; Cassie was on the other side of the court, her wolf self still. I couldn't make out any blood around her, but if she was stepped on, the injuries could have been entirely internal.

I didn't dare think that she was dead, too.

Stop thinking! I screamed at myself. I decided to try Jrikvelh's move: coming to a staircase, I leaped onto the banister and began sliding down on my feet.

The first problem I had was balance, which was easily righted with my tail. The second was the growing friction, which soon made my feet burn. The third was timing my lunge for Cassie; if I lunged too soon, I might kick the banister and injure myself, not too mention lose valuable momentum: too late, and I'd fall on the floor in a sprawl and do no one any good. When I saw the end of the banister in sight, I tensed my legs; my forward leg was just about to slip off when I pounced.

The feeling wasn't much different from gliding, except that I wasn't using any wings, and the fact that I was rapidly losing altitude. Used to gliding landings, I got my legs beneath me, and, taking the strain of braking into my entire leg rather than just the lower half, I slowed myself from a run to a jog to a walk.

Unfortunately, my landing was anything but silent. The othyb turned to face me. It was the one from the television commercial, the likeness being extraordinary: he appeared to be nothing more than a stretched-out Hork-Bajir with a weird tail and one finger short on each hand.

As I watched, the corners of his mouth turned up into a mischievous smile-

-and he fell on his side, head cracking against the floor, and went limp.

Tobias, Rachel, or Ax - I hope that's one of you, I heard Jake say.

It is, I replied. I picked Cassie up. Come on, Cass, wake up. You gotta morph. We're getting out of here.

What about the other othybs? Jake asked me. Golden tiger eyes turned on me. Where's Ax, Rachel, Sarah, Mia?

I forced myself not to think about what I was saying. Ax and Rachel are upstairs; Rachel's hurt, barely conscious, but I think we can get her to morph. Ax is fine. Mia's hiding in a hologram.... Sarah is dead.

Cassie jerked in my arms. What? she demanded. She moved her head sharply. What did you say?

Morph out, Cassie, it's safe. I put her down; her muzzle began to recede.

Tobias, what's going on? Jake asked. The othyb is right there!

The othyb aren't Controllers, I told him. Sarah and I struck a deal with two of them. Arctesch wanted to kill us both, but Jrikvelh managed to compromise that he kill one. She chose to have Sarah fight him, and me go free.

You lost me, Marco said.

It doesn't matter now! I snapped at him. Cassie pulled herself to her feet. Jrikvelh promised me that Juvrenz would fall when he saw me, and that we could escape. The mall is surrounded by Controller firemen and police officers - that's why no one has come in. She's keeping Arctesch busy, but I don't know how long she can do it. We have to get moving. Now.

It didn't take long to get the others out. We managed to wake Rachel enough to get her to morph, and we escaped by having them all morph fleas and jump on me: I flew out an open window. I got shot at a couple times, lost a couple inches off my tail, but got away.

Sarah never had that chance.

Sarah was dead.

I headed for Erek's house. He had to know.

CHAPTER 11

Erek, Jake, Rachel, and Marco's faces were set in the same grim expression as I finished telling about Arctesch, Jrikvelh, and Sarah. Cassie had tears in her eyes, but was trying to hide them. Ax had his head lowered, and his eyestalks and tail were equally limp. It was Erek who spoke first. "Then it seems Sarah was not morbid after all," he said.

"What are you talking about?" Rachel demanded.

Erek looked at her. "Soon after Sarah first came here, she began a living will."

"A what?" Marco said, confusion overruling his grief. Ax raised his head.

"A living will," Erek said. "It's in her personal database, along with her recorded diary. She had things she wished not to tell until after she was gone, and so she recorded them for you to view in the case of her death."

"My grandfather did that," Cassie said. Her voice sounded tight. "He made a video tape recording instead of a written will."

"It's like that, only she used a holographic recorder," Erek said. "However, the only other person who knows the access code is Mia."

She isn't back yet? I asked.

"Here I am."

Mia stood in the doorway of Erek's living room, where we were gathered. She had her human hologram on still, but the resemblance to Shirley Temple was gone. She seemed a thousand years older.

"Mia," Erek said, not bothering to greet her, "there was nothing you could have done. To protect Sarah, you would have had to hurt the othyb."

"That's bull, Erek," Mia snapped, "and you know it. I could have done something. I could have saved her. I could-" She sobbed, and her hologram shut off. In its place was Chee-Myani. "Erek, it's just what happened before!" she wailed, then lowered her short muzzle toward the floor. "It's just what happened to my Pemalite master! I could have done something, but I- I was scared!"

Erek put his arm around her shoulders, and took her hand. "Myani, I know. I know."

Mia shook her head. "I knew I shouldn't have cared. I knew. I knew it would happen again. I knew."

"Mia," Erek coaxed her, "we need to see Sarah's will."

A sob-like sound came from Mia, but she nodded. "I know. It's downstairs."

The eight of us trooped down to Erek's basement, riding the elevator to the underground area of the Chee. Mia led the way to Sarah's room.

Originally, Sarah's room had been a very large storage closet, which is obvious from the amount of shelving around the room. It had a bed like a strange mix of a low couch and an oversized doggie-bed, a chair that looked like a smaller, rounder version of the bed, and a normal-looking desk and chair as furniture, if you didn't count the low, fold-up dresser as furniture. On two walls were rectangular, window-like, wafer-thin screens, one of which showed the same thing you could see out Erek's living room window, while the other looked like a computer screen. Much of the floor was covered by a pastel, multi-colored, oblong rug. On one shelf there were a dozen or so coaster-like objects of various colors, one of which projected a tiny hologram of Sarah and Ax. Sarah was about the size of an action figure,

and looked like she was angry; Ax was standing in a defensive position, his tail arched high in the air. Somehow, Sarah had gotten a hologram of herself and Ax in an argument. Ax looked at it closely, but said nothing. He hadn't spoken a word since I had told him Sarah was dead. Rachel touched another one of the coaster-like projectors: instantly, a hologram of Sarah standing between two Chee appeared. Another Chee, taller with a slightly jowled face, stood behind them. Sarah was laughing, and the Chee looked equally happy.

"That's me, Veedric, and Mia," Erek told us.

The only other object in the room was an odd-looking box: it was two feet square at the base and top, but four feet tall. It was a shade lighter than black, with a vaguely glossy surface and no visible opening.

Mia went to the screen that looked like a computer. She tapped four different icons, and a large screen appeared:

ENTER PASSWORD

___________

(PRESS HERE WHEN DONE)

Mia hit the "done" sentence. "There is no password," she said softly. "Sarah figured that it would be the last password anyone would guess." She stepped back from the large, semi-round rug. "That's the projector," she said. "I've never seen this, so I suggest everyone keep their distance."

When we had all stepped off the rug, a hologram appeared. It was Sarah, in her morphing wetsuit, just like she had been in life. She looked so real, so solid... so alive.

She was smiling.

"Hello everyone and anyone who is seeing this," she said. "Either I've died, or someone is going to get into serious trouble."

"Cynical to the last," Erek said.

Sarah lowered her head for a moment, then raised it again, her expression intent. "I know that this really should be serious, but understand, this is at least the dozenth time I've started over and it's getting so old I'm starting to think that, after all this work, I'm never going to die. But I'm not stupid, so I'll shut up about that.

"I'm calling this a living will, even though I don't really have anything to bequeath to anybody. I guess I'll just have to make do with what I have. My hologram collection I leave to whoever wants it: I have no use for it, although it brought me a great deal of happiness in life. I hope it can make other people happy, now that I'm done with them. My diary I leave in the care of Chee-Myani: she knows what to do with it. My morphing suits I also leave to whoever wants them: I'm sure someone will find a use for them.

"To Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill, the best friend I have ever had that didn't live in my head, I leave my memory, and Udrak's." Ax looked up, startled. "I know you will do us both the honor we deserve - and much that we don't. Within my diary is my hirac delest, as much as I have one - I'd appreciate if someone would finish it for me, considering it's impossible for me to do it. But otherwise, I wish you to have it, Aximili. I cannot stand the thought of you forgetting me."

I could not, he said quietly.

"To Tobias, I leave my hope," she said next. "I leave to you the belief that there is always something that could be worse, and that there is always a way. I also leave you any books the Chee can spare. I know you liked it when the weather was good, and we'd read novels all day. I did, too. I know I didn't seem to take you seriously too often, but that was because what happened to you scared me. I don't like being scared, so I fight it off. I didn't want to fight you, so I used cynicism instead.

"Speaking of which, I leave my cynicism to Marco. You'll abuse it, I know, but I know of no one with more experience with it. It can be dangerous in the hands of an amateur. In the same vein I also leave you my instinct to see beyond what is easily seen to the obvious answer behind it. You tended to be half a step behind me a lot of times: if you accept that gift, you shouldn't have to worry about it anymore.

"To Cassie... there's not much I could give you that you don't already have, Cass. Love, friendship, compassion... I might not have shown it, but I really looked up to you. In spite of war, you still kept your soul. Mine was torn - if not worse - long ago. To Cassie, I ask that you don't let this war change you anymore than it has. Our universe needs people like you, for the ends of the wars, to pull everyone together again. To survive. To move on to greater things. To remember what is good and hold onto it no matter the cost.

"To Rachel, I leave my ability to back down from a fight." She chuckled. "Then again, nevermind. Neither of us ever had that." Though she still smiled faintly, it was a sad smile. "You and I were alike in that, except that I tended to think a little farther ahead, while you concentrated on the present. We made a good team, Rache. I guess all I can leave you is this: Hang in there. The universe needs people like Cassie to find peace, but they need people like you and me to get there.

"To Jake, more than anyone, I leave my patience. Goodness knows that, with what you have to work with, you need it." Jake smiled in spite of himself. "You all need it, but you do most of all, Jake. I know there wasn't much to go around, but be sure to share.

"To all the Animorphs, I leave my thanks for the chance to fight for what I believed in, the chance to take a stand. For that I can never repay you. To the Chee, I leave my thanks for taking me in. I know I'm not exactly a cute ol' mutt, and I hope I didn't bother you too much.

"Most importantly, to Mia, I leave this message. Mia, if you would stand in front of the hologram, please?" Mia looked startled, but did as she was told.

The hologram reached out to the threshold of the projector, almost leaving it, gripped Mia by the arms, and shook her. It was solid! Sarah had used the same principles that let the Chee pass off as humans to shake Mia. "It wasn't your fault," she said, her tone commanding and firm. "No matter how I died, it wasn't at your paws. You didn't pull the trigger, or break the neck, or squish me, or whatever the heck happened. You didn't do it. I don't care what you might say, but face it: I have the last word in this, because this is a recording, and here I say that it wasn't any one's fault, least of all yours. You know I hate it when you worry, Mia. The worse thing you could do now is blame yourself. I don't want you to. So cut it out."

The hologram let go of Mia, and stepped back into the center of the projector. "Now, the soul-baring part," Sarah sighed. "I just want you to know that I have re-recorded over this part forty-six times - I kept track - but I'm just going to go through it and stop doing it over." She took a deep breath. "I kept something very dangerous from you - Jake, Rachel, Marco, Cassie, Aximili, Tobias. Something that you would never have allowed to continue, which was why I did not tell you until you couldn't kill me for it. Believe me, unless I tell this right, you're going to want to. You see, I have retrieved the most dangerous weapon against the Animorphs in the universe, and kept it here.

"After the first major battle I was in - after Cassie, Aximili, and I spent most of the day getting me morphs - about two weeks after I joined you, I went as a harrier to a small island out in the middle of nowhere. You see, I didn't feel- I knew that I could not be an Animorph without doing something first." She took a deep, shuddering breath, closed her eyes, let the breath out slowly, then opened her eyes again. "I went to the island, and returned here with David. I couldn't consider myself one of you before that loose end was allowed to be tied off. The cycle between him and me could not end until we came together."

"How did-" Marco began angrily.

Udrak, I said. He was in Ax.

"In case you didn't figure it out," Sarah continued, "I knew where to find David because Udrak had told me. I came back here, and, if you would all kindly enter the projection area, I will take you to see the extent of my sin."

I fluttered from the arm of the "chair" to land next to Sarah's hologram. After a moment's hesitation, Ax trotted onto the projection area. One by one, we all entered the area, then waited.

About three minutes after Sarah had told us to get into the area, the scene around us changed. Suddenly we were in a classroom in a school I didn't recognize. Kids sat quietly taking a test. We were in the back of the room.

"Currently we are in David's current fantasy," Sarah's hologram said. "He cannot hear or see you unless you want him to - and only after this hologram has shut off. He is still a rat: he lives inside the box you no doubt saw in the corner of my room. However, in that box with him is the extent of Chee holographic and field technology, which allows David to control what goes on around him, and even imagine himself to be whatever he wants to be. You can appear inside as just another holo-person; if he punches you, he'd feel the forcefield, but you wouldn't feel a thing. If you tried hitting him, you'd pass right through. The limits are that he cannot injure himself purposely - feel pain, yes, through changes I did myself, but he can't hurt you anymore than you're allowed to hurt him. Generally I've seen that he pretends to live in someplace in West Virginia or Virginia, I can never remember which - he lived there for a year and a half before he had to move again. It's as much of a home as he ever had to call one."

The classroom disappeared, but not before I picked out a blond kid with a squared jaw, scribbling frantically on his paper with messy handwriting.

David.

We were back in Sarah's room. "Right now, David is receiving the news of my death, and the knowledge that you know what has happened, and that the Chee will allow no harm to come to him, nor that he will ever be allowed outside of his virtual world. He acclimated to it rather well." She looked in the direction of the box with an expression of regret. "Personally, I don't see how he can stand it, but I suppose it's much better than where he was." Sarah sighed, and looked at her wristwatch. The recording was a few weeks old: Sarah had stopped wearing a wristwatch a long time ago. No - it couldn't have been too long ago: we had only known her two months. She'd stopped wearing it two or three weeks ago, because she couldn't morph with it. "Well, I suppose I'd better let myself die with dignity. There's just one thing I want to do, in case I didn't get the chance before I died."

She stood up straight, her expression determined and serious; she suddenly looked far older than she had been. "I am the servant of the People," she said, her voice clear and strong. "I am the servant of my Prince." She smiled slightly at that, and winked: I'm guessing the wink was for Jake. "Prince" is an Andalite title of rank, and Jake's role as our leader makes him our "prince". He hates being called that, which everyone knows - except Ax, no matter how many times Jake has told him to stop calling him that.

Sarah became instantly serious again. "I am the servant of honor. My life is not my own, when the People have need of it. My life was given for the People, for my prince, for my honor - and for my worlds," she finished. And, yet, she was not finished at all. "It was given for what I believed in, and for those I loved. For Andalites, Humans, Yeerks, Taxxons, Gedds, God know what else - and, especially, for the Animorphs." She smiled sadly, looking even older, maybe thirty, forty years old. She looked an age she had never been allowed to reach. "Good luck," she said. Her eyes glistened. "I love you. Good luck."

She blew a kiss outward - considering where we were standing, it went somewhere between Cassie and Ax - and disappeared.

I'm not sure who was first - maybe Cassie, maybe Rachel, maybe Marco. Maybe it was Mia. Maybe it was even me. But we were silent for a long time, before we looked at each other, and knew, whether we saw it physically or in the faces of those who physically couldn't, that every one of us was crying.

Sarah was truly gone.

CHAPTER 12

There was no plan of revenge, or even strategy. There was no telling how and when we would meet the othyb again.

Of course, since Arctesch had managed to kill Sarah, there was no question we would meet them again. That was more than Visser Three himself could say. I wonder if Arctesch got a promotion for it.

As evening fell, I fluffed my feathers, preparing for a chilly night. I was in my favorite tree, and my belly churned over the two mice I'd managed to catch since coming back. I was tired, but I didn't want to sleep. The reason was simple: each time I closed my eyes, I saw Arctesch swing his tail at Sarah's deformed neck, and her unrecognizable head fall to the floor.

I sat on the tree branch, and fluffed my feathers again. Unlike the others, I couldn't just turn on the TV and try to put it out of my mind. For one thing, they hadn't seen Sarah die. For another, to watch TV I'd have to find Ax, and I really didn't want company at the moment.

I tried closing my eyes again, but it came back yet again: the snap of Arctesch's tail cracking the air, the squirsh sound as his tailblade slipped cleanly through Sarah's neck, the dull thuds of her head and body as they fell. I opened my eyes again, and fluffed my feathers.

There was something below.

I looked down, my eyes not too much better than a human's in the dying light of dusk. My first thought was that it was another hawk: it fluttered around near the ground, as if clumsily hunting something, but then I saw that, if it was a hawk, it had to be injured: it was jumping, fluttering, then falling to the ground again, travelling in almost a straight line. It couldn't be chasing prey, because prey never travels in anything resembling a straight line when pursued. At least, mice and rats don't.

It was then I saw that the thing had arms.

I straightened on my branch, unruffling my feathers, and stared openly. Yes, the little, two-foot tall creature had arms, and, though its legs were a lot like mine, they were much too long. Its wings were actually attached to its back.

With a bad churning feeling in my stomach that had nothing to do with mice, I leaped from my branch and soared across my meadow.

The little thing looked up at the sight of me. A tiny voice carried halfway across the meadow and thirty feet up to where I was. "Bird!" the voice said, sounding like a five-year-old who was very pleased with themself. "Bird!"

I landed in a tree almost directly above the creature. Now, from up close, I saw that it had no feathers to speak of; instead, it was a sort of pale green, with a little bit of blond-gray hair on its head. It had a horn coming from its sloped forehead; the horn curved sharply up along its forehead and halfway over its head to end in two sharp points. Two heavily curved horns grew from the sides of its very triangular, bird-like head, framing what little hair it had. Its stomach was yellowish, but unplated, and its eyes were neither green nor yellow, but the exact color between the two. It had three fingers on each hand but only two toes, and the skin its long, thin tail ended two thirds of the way down, leaving room for a foot-long tailblade with two prongs, like a strange, oversized comb. Its wings - the same green as the rest of it on the outside, with a thin membrane on the inside that turned it purplish-blue - were obviously too small for them to work very well; that explained why it fluttered, but didn't fly.

It was a definite othyb... but it was only two feet tall.

"Bird!" the tiny othyb, not much bigger than me, called up to me again.

What do you want? I demanded harshly.

The little thing cringed downward, as if I had swatted it. It peered fearfully up at me. "Ner say follow Bird," it said softly.

I stared down at the thing: it resembled Jrikvelh, but for the fact that it had very little, yellow-gray hair, and the weird tailblade, and the stunted wings. Then I remember the ragged, short stumps from Jrikvelh's shoulderblades.

I stared down at the little thing with new eyes. Its wings were obviously too small to work very well.

Had Jrikvelh's been too small, too?

Had Jrikvelh lost her wings?

"Bird!" the little creature called up to me again, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Ner say follow Bird. Say, 'Nri, stay with Bird.'" The corners of its sharply pointed snout turned downward, its eyes looking up at me pleadingly. "Bird no like Nri?" it whimpered.

Why are you talking like that? I asked it. Talk normally!

"Nri talk!" it said, its tone defiant. "Nri talk right! Bird talk in head! No yell at Nri for not talk right!"

You sound like a Hork-Bajir!

Nri - if that was the little thing's name, or nickname, or whatever - cocked its head to the side. "Mami look like Hork-Bajir. Mami no talk like Hork-Bajir." It whimpered again. "Nri learn talk right. Nri young. Nri learn!" It glared up at me stubbornly. "Nri still learn now!" it shouted. "Ner never yell at Nri to learn! Bird no yell!"

I wasn't yelling, I said, sighing. The little thing wasn't like a Hork-Bajir - it was even simpler. It didn't even use "I". I'm just under stress. A friend died today.

"Friend die?" it repeated. It whimpered. "Mami die. Ner take care of Nri. Now Bird take care of Nri. Ner say so."

Who is 'Ner'?

Nri cocked its head to the side. "Ner is Ner. Ner care for Nri. Protect Nri from big meanie."

'Big meanie'? I echoed, unable to help laughing a little.

Nri wasn't laughing. "Big meanie want hurt Nri. Ner no let big meanie know Nri. Ner say Nri safe with Bird from big meanie."

Who is 'Ner'? I tried again.

Nri frowned, as if I was stupid. "Ner is Ner. Ner tall-tall. Ner care for Nri, keep Nri safe because Mami die. Ner is Ikell."

'Ikell'? My eyes widened.

Nri went on, ignoring me. "Ner nice, Ner love Nri. Ner give Nri to Bird. Ner with red-red hair."

Red-red hair.

Red hair.

Ner is Jrikvelh? I asked, surprised.

Nri grinned, smiling widely without opening its mouth. "Ner is Hrik- Jrib- Hiv-" Nri frowned again. "Ner is Mami's sist!" it said finally.

Sist? Sister?

Nri nodded so hard it looked painful. "Sissssss-ter," it echoed. "Mami die, Ner keep Nri safe. Safe from big meanie, like Mami keep my sissssss-ters safe from big meanie."

Jrik- I couldn't stand using that name anymore: I knew I wasn't saying it right. Obviously, Nri couldn't say it either, but how it came up with "Ner" from Jrikvelh was beyond me. Ner has a sister?

Nri shook its head. "Mami die. Gloift die. Orba die. No sissss-ter for Ner. No sissssss-ter for Nri, because Mami keep Nri's sissss-ters safe."

Your sisters are dead too?

Nri frowned. "No sisssssss-ters," it said. "All die. Only Nri left. Nri and broters."

Are you... female?

"Nri like Ner, not like Juvie."

Juvie - probably Juvrenz. If that's what Nri meant, then she was female. Why did Ner send you to... 'Bird'?

"Ner say Bird keep Nri safe now. Ner no can now, because Ner with big meanie now." Her frown deepened, worry showing clearly in her eyes. "Why Ner with big meanie?"

I... I don't know. I tried to make sense of what "Nri" had said: Ner was Jrikvelh, who had once had three sisters - Mami, Gloift, and Orba - who were all dead; Nri was Mami's daughter; and, though she had broters - brothers - Nri's sisters were also dead. Ner had sent Nri after me because she now had to be with what she had been protecting Nri from.

I thought back to what Jrikvelh had told me, when she revealed that she hadn't wanted to capture us. "I plan nothing of the sort," she had hissed. Then the corners of her mouth had turned up, just the slightest amount, in the faintest of smiles. "As the Visser said, he cannot guarantee that we will follow orders. We are difficult children."

Of course.

She let us go because she wanted us to watch over you! I had to laugh, but it was a bitter laugh. Visser Three was right - othyb do look after their own interests. I glared down at Nri. She wants us to baby-sit you!

Nri cocked her head to the side. "Baa-bye sit?" She scowled, crossing her arms stubbornly. What blades she had were tiny, even more undersized than her wings. "Don't wanna! Bird no baa-bye sit Nri! Nri no let Bird do!"

I laughed in spite of myself. Nri had the personality of a spoiled brat, but a charming one. I found myself softening in spite of myself. How old are you, Nri?

Nri stared at me blankly. "Nri young," she said at last.

But how young? How many days? Years?

Nri frowned. "Nri dunno," she said. "Nri dunno days. Star come-go none since Nri come to ground, but days on mami-ship? Dunno."

'Mami-ship'? It clicked then: "Mami" wasn't the name of Nri's mother at all. It was her way of saying "mommy". "Mami-ship" meant "mothership". You mean the Yeerk mothership? I asked patiently.

"Thother mami-ship," she said. "Thothers are Yeerk." She frowned. "Ner say Yeerk bad. Ner say Thothers hurt Nri if Thothers knew Nri. Ner say Thothers take wings away, take Nri from Ner." She whimpered again. "Nri want Ner," she said, rubbing at her forehead with one of her nearly- bladeless wrists. "Nri miss Ner now." She hugged herself awkwardly, trying not to cut herself with her tiny blades. She crouched down, wrapping her wings and tail around herself in a defensive manner. "Nri miss Ner,"

she whimpered quietly, like a lost child. She looked up at me with pleading eyes again. "Bird think Ner miss Nri?"

The look in her eyes made me feel hollow and cruel. Nri was a lost child: the one person who had cared for her had abandoned her to a stranger. To me.

Nri, I said, do you think you can climb up one of these trees?

She came slightly out of her defensive position, and cocked her head to the side in a curious manner. "Climb tree?" she echoed. "Nri can climb."

Do you think you can climb the tree way on the other side of this meadow, the one with the branch that sticks out over the meadow?

Nri looked over the meadow, squinting. "Too dark. No see. But Nri climb. Ner say do as Bird say now. Nri do."

Come on - follow me. I spread my wings, and jumped from my perch. Nri let out a little squeal, as if in surprise or excitement, then galloped on all fours, her wings spread out behind her, out into the meadow, following me with the same look of joy on her face as a dog does when chasing a Frisbee. I had to flap the last few feet up to my branch. I looked downward; Nri sat, cat-like, at the base of the tree, looking up at me. Do you think you can climb up here? I asked.

"Nri climb," she called up. She stood on her hind legs, and dug her curved claws - claws more like Arctesch's than Jrikvelh's - into the bark of the tree. Some came loose, falling to the ground. She took one hand out of the tree and picked up the bark. She sniffed it, then looked up at me. "Okay eat?" she asked.

You eat bark? I asked blankly.

"Mami look like Hork-Bajir," she said solemnly. "Mami's mami Hork-Bajir."

Mami's mami... the mother of Nri's mother was a Hork-Bajir? That meant... Is Ner's 'mami' a Hork-Bajir too?

"Ner Mami's sissss-ter," she said, as if I was stupid. "Ner's mami Mami's mami and Juvie's mami too."

And Arctesch's 'mami'?

She hissed, taking her other hand away from the tree, and backed away. "Bad!" she hissed, cowering.

I thought of Sarah. Yes, he is, I said sadly. I think you can eat that, Nri.

She smiled a little, as if completely forgetting the mention of Arctesch, and stuffed the bark, whole, into her mouth. She then dug her short, curved talons into the tree and began to climb, slowly at first, then faster, up the side of the tree until she reached the first branch. She climbed up onto it, took the bark out of her mouth again, and nibbled on the edge. She had teeth like the other othyb - sharp, gleaming white and evenly spaced, but hers were only about half an inch long. She swallowed, then stuck the whole piece in her mouth again, and resumed climbing. Halfway up the tree she paused again, and paused once more to finish her piece of bark before she reached my branch. I was surprised when she rubbed her forehead against my shoulder. "Bird take care of Nri now," she said. "Bird get little things when Nri need, too?"

Little things? I echoed warily.

"Little, skittery thing. Hunt thing. Nri too little to catch little thing."

You eat meat, too?

"Little thing," she agreed. "Not much thing. Else Nri get ill. No like be ill." She narrowed her eyes, drawing down the ridges above them, and wrinkled her snout inward, in an obvious expression of disgust. "Ill bad."

I laughed. Yes, getting sick is bad.

She gripped the branch with both her hands and feet; she had three fingers and a thumb on each hand, but only two toes and a sort of spur-like claw on her heel, which let her grip the branch easily. It struck me as odd that she should have four digits on her hands and three on her feet, while Ner should have three on her hands and four on her feet - she'd had the spur-like claws, too, but they had been much longer. Nri spread her wings wide, stretching them, then curled them around herself. She brought her tail up and forward, resting it on the branch, so that it didn't hang heavily behind her. She looked at me from around her wing, then, smiling almost shyly, stretched her wings again, moved closer to me, and curled her left wing around us both. "Ner say Bird take care of Nri now," she said, "but Nri take care of Bird, too?"

I laughed in spite of myself. I fluffed my feathers, but inside Nri's wing was warm; the night was going to be much warmer now. We'll discuss it in the morning, I said, feeling suddenly exhausted. Go to sleep, Nri. Without a word she obediently closed her eyes and let her head loll toward her chest. She shifted her hands a little, then her tail, but after that she became motionless.

I closed my eyes, and for the first time in endless hours, no pictures of death and horror came to mind. Instead, I had the odd picture of Jrikvelh, smiling that slight, barely apparent smile, and Nri rubbing her forehead against Jrikvelh's.

It was a nice picture.

I fell asleep. I didn't dream.

CHAPTER 13

Hey, Ax, I got a present last night. Ax looked up as he finished his morning ritual. I stared dumbly in surprise, before saying the first thing that came to mind. Ax-man, you don't look too good.

Ax's eyes, usually bright green, were darker and cloudy, and there was a heaviness to his face. I did not sleep well last night, he replied softly.

Sarah wouldn't want you to mourn her, Ax, I said. He looked away. What's a hirac delest?

It is something Andalites do when they die far from home, Ax replied. They send their memories through space, to a computer on the homeworld which can catch their memories and record them. Sarah could not do that: instead, when she had time she recorded what she could remember of her life within the Chee's database. He looked up at me. She asked that it be finished, Tobias. Would you be able to do that?

Why me?

He sighed, looking far older than he should have. Because you saw everything, he said. You saw her die. You know, better than anyone else, how she died.

Mia was there. She has to remember it better than I do.

She didn't, Tobias. She shut down everything but her holographic imager and force field generator. She shut herself off.

I sighed. Okay, Ax. But there's something even more pressing than that now.

The othyb, he said darkly, and what we are going to do about them?

More like what we're going to do with one of them, I answered. Ax, Jrikvelh let us go for a very different reason than spiting the Yeerks.

He looked at me with his stalk eyes now, so that all four of his eyes were facing me. You believe she had an alternative motive?

I don't believe it, I said. I know it. Like I said, I got a present last night.

His main eyes narrowed as he caught on. What sort of 'present', Tobias?

I turned my head. Nri? Get down from the tree.

Beside me, camouflaged in the leaves, Nri grinned, showing her teeth this time. "And'lite!" she squealed as she jumped from the branch. She flapped her wings as hard as she could, but she barely slowed her fall: she sprawled gracelessly on the ground, then picked herself up easily, as if she was used to rough landings. She smiled at Ax. "And'lite!" she crowed again. "Ner say Bird with And'lite keep Nri safe now."

Ax took a step backwards, his tail coming forward, his eyes narrowed. Othyb! he snapped, with the same hatred in the word as when he said "Yeerk".

Ax, no! I jumped down from the branch too, landing in front of Nri. She cried out, jumping backwards, not having expected me to jump too. Ax, stop it!

He lowered his tail. What is this, Tobias? he demanded.

Jrikvelh - who Nri calls 'Ner' - didn't let us go to spite the Yeerks, I said again. She let us go to protect her niece - Nri. This is Nri.

Nri smiled up at Ax, then saw the hatred there, and cringed back. "Tobeet say Arc make friend die," she said quietly. "Mami die; Nri don't know Mami. Ner mad Mami die, mad at all die. Ner hurt Arc for make friend die."

She slashed his face badly, I translated.

But she did not stop him from killing her! Ax snapped.

"Ner make promise!" Nri replied defiantly. "Ner keep promise! Tobeet break promise - Ner only scold him." She glared at me accusingly before turning back to Ax. "Ner always keep promise. Ner promise Nri safe with Bird - with Tobeet," she corrected herself.

She lied, Ax replied coldly.

Ax, I said, I know you're hurting because Sarah is dead. We're all going to have to deal with that loss. But Ner said that she was sorry she could not save Sarah. I'm sorry, too. But we can't change what happened. Sarah is dead, we're not. I hadn't meant to say that last thing, but I knew it was true. We're not dead, and we can't act like it either. Ax said nothing. Ax, whether you or I like it or not, Jrikvelh has given us Nri to deal with. She's a baby - or at least very young. I'm not going to let her get punished for something one of her race did, when the other two we met helped us. You think Juvrenz collapsed because he was tired? Ax, he smiled before he fell. I saw it. And Jrikvelh had told me he would do it when he saw me - and he didn't until that exact moment. Don't you see? Somehow, Jrikvelh and Juvrenz arranged that we were to escape. Jrikvelh was just too late to save more than one of us. Would you feel any different if it was me who was dead, and Sarah was telling you this?

Ax looked down at me, and, ever so slowly, his expression softened and he even smiled faintly. You are right, he said. If you had died, it would be Sarah who would be telling me to go on with my life. Then his expression hardened again. But now I carry two burdens, Tobias. I must still avenge Elfangor's death at Visser Three's hands. Now I must also avenge Sarah's death.

Ax-

I will do it! he snapped at me. Sarah- Sarah cared about me, he said, his voice softer than it should have been. She deserves that much.

Ax... He refused to look at me. Ax, you cared about her, didn't you?

He looked down, but not at me. She was... unique.

I would have smiled if I could. Yes she was. I wasn't going to let it drop, though. You did - didn't you.

He looked at me with such a sad expression I felt bad about pushing him. I could have, he said finally. The link between us... because of Udrak... we understood each other in a way you cannot comprehend, Tobias. That is the most I can say without doing Sarah injustice.

Nri whimpered a little, approaching Ax carefully, then hugged his leg. He looked down in surprise. "And'lite sad 'cause friend die," Nri said softly. "Don' be sad, And'lite." She rubbed her forehead against his leg. "Nri miss Ner, but Nri not sad. Nri with Tobeet, and And'lite, now. Nri not sad." She looked up at him and smiled weakly. "And'lite be happy now?" she asked.

Slowly, Ax smiled back. My name is Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill, Nri, he said.

She stared at him with such a look of shock on her face that I laughed. Hearing me, she grinned. "Axie!" she cried, and hugged his leg harder. "And'lite be Axie now. Long-name too big for And'lite."

I laughed again. A quizzical look crossed Ax's face. Too big for me? he echoed. How can my name be too big for me?

Nri cocked her head to the side. "Nri also Elka, but that short name too," she said. "Nri Elka shorter than Aximie-Escaroot-Ithip."

Nri Elka. That is a pretty name, he said.

Nri Elka... Nri hadn't told me she had a second name. Nri Elka. That sounds almost like a Hork-Bajir name.

Nri looked at me, but didn't stop hugging Ax's leg. "Nri no have biggie name," she said. "Ner give Nri Hork-Bajir name 'till Nri find biggie name."

'Biggie name'? I asked her.

"Biggie name," she said. "Biggies born with name. Ner's bad-sound hard-say name a biggie name. Juvie's name biggie name. Biggie name have meaning in biggie words. Nri no have name yet."

Does 'Ner' have a Hork-Bajir name? Ax asked.

Nri nodded, looking back up at him. "Ner is Hork-Bajir name," she replied. "Ner name 'Ner Gerinn'."

A lot easier to say than Jrikvelh, I said.

Nri nodded again. "Ner also Ikell. Yuke call Ner 'Ikell'. Ner not know why."

'Yuke'? Ax echoed.

"Yuke. Ner broter. Yuke die." She wrinkled her snout a little. "Ner say Yuke look weird." Then she straightened it out again. "But Ner say too that Yuke good. That Yuke... matter." She frowned, a thoughtful look coming over her face. "Not matter. Like matter. 'Nother word, not matter."

That's okay, Nri, I'm sure you'll think of it, I told her.

Where are the others? Ax asked her. Nri looked up to him, obviously confused.

Where's Ner, Nri? I tried.

Nri let go of Ax's leg with one arm and pointed straight up. "Ner at Mami-ship, with bad And'lite and big meanie." She shuddered, then wrapped her arm around Ax's leg again. "Bad And'lite mean. Shout lots.

Shout shout shout. No quiet." She let go of Ax's leg, and stood up straight. "Sound," she said. "Wing."

I cocked my head to the side, tipping one ear closer to the sky.

She's right, I said. Something big is flying this way. I flapped my wings, quickly taking cover in the trees again.

There you are! I heard a familiar voice say. Don't hide, Tobias, it's me. What is that?

Rachel! I was relieved: for a moment I had been worried that it was a desperate golden eagle. I got a visitor last night. Come meet Nri Elka.

A Hork-Bajir?

An othyb, Ax answered her.

A what? A huge bald eagle dove from several hundred feet above us, then spread its wings wide as it approached the trees, breaking its momentum. Nri Elka squealed in fright, her mouth open and teeth bared, then scrambled up my tree, taking cover next to me, and froze, her wings covering most of her body and her tail. Rachel landed, then looked up at us. Tobias, how did you get an othyb? she demanded. Where did it go?

You can't see her? I asked, surprised. Rachel's eyes couldn't be much worse than mine - eagles have telescopic vision, just like hawks. She's right next to me.

Rachel turned her head slightly to one side, then the other. Now I see her, she said. Wow, talk about camouflage. How in the world did you get an othyb, Tobias?

Ner - Jrikvelh - gave her to me. Then I quickly explained what had happened.

I gotta demorph, Rachel said, as soon as I was finished. Almost immediately, she seemed to shoot up from the ground as she grew to twice her height, and her feathers grew paler and shorter. Fingers grew from her wings as her golden eyes turned blue and the white feathers of her head turned blond where they didn't melt away. Her beak softened to become a nose and mouth as brown feathers melted together to form her morphing suit and skin. She sighed, looking up at me, as her huge talons became bare human legs and feet. "So we're supposed to baby-sit Nri Elka... until when? When Ner comes to get her?"

I waited for the last part of Rachel's morph - the huge, white bald eagle tail, which hadn't changed at all until the very end - had disappeared before answering. Nri doesn't seem to know, I replied. From what I can tell, Ner just told her to follow me and to do what I say.

"Who pink people?" Nri asked me in a whisper, leaning slightly toward me and moving her wing so that she could see me. "Who pink people who was bird?"

Nri, this is Rachel, I said.

"Thanks, Tobias," Rachel said sarcastically. "Now she can tell Ner." She looked up at Nri, but I could tell she was still having trouble seeing Nri in the leaves. "Listen - Nri - do you tell Ner everything?"

"Why don' tell?" Nri answered, sounding confused. "Ner tell Nri all."

"Where are the othyb from, then?" Rachel asked rudely.

Nri frowned, then clawed her way down the side of the tree, headfirst, like a cat. She let go of the bark, then ambled on gawky legs to stand in front of Rachel. She stood up on her hind legs, her head thrown back at an awkward-looking angle to look up at Rachel. "Nri from Mami," she said. "Ner and Juvie, Yuke, big meanie.... big othyb come from tube."

Tube? I prompted her.

"Tube. Little tube. Not born, like Nri."

"Who are the othyb?"

Nri frowned, relaxing her legs and putting her tail on the ground, so that she had her weight equally on her legs and odd tailblade. She relaxed her wings, too, letting them rest limply beside her, mostly lying on the ground. "Nri othyb," she said. "Broters othyb - Fedik, he first, then Perrie. Cusa and Koliv and Dintek and Nopper and Vita broters too. Ner and Juvie othyb, too." She pressed one talon to another, then another, down one three-fingered-plus-a-thumb hand, then the other, then her two toes on her left foot, counting. "Nri, Fedik, Perrie, Cusa, Koliv, Dintek, Nopper, Vita, Ner, and Juvie. And..." her voice trailed off, and she cowered a little, falling silent.

And Arctesch, I finished. Eleven othyb.

"Where are they?" Rachel demanded.

Nri whimpered a little, still cowering.

That's enough, Rache. I flapped down from the tree. Immediately Nri rubbed her snout against my chest. The red-tail hawk in me really did not like that, but Nri was scared. She wouldn't want to know that what made her feel better made me feel edgy. You're scaring her, and she's scared enough as it is.

"So what are we supposed to do with her?" she asked. "The others want to get together - that's what I'm out here for. We have to figure out what we're going to do about her bigger friends."

I thought about that earlier, I replied. I had. The only thing I can think of is to give her to the Hork-Bajir.

"No!" Nri suddenly cried, leaping backwards, away from me. "No no no no! Nri no go with bad Thother people! Nri no go back!"

Nri, that's not what I meant! I cried. She cowered away from me, glaring at me with frightened, suspicious eyes. I lowered my voice. Nri, we know nice Hork-Bajir. They're not Controllers. They're free, like you and me. They're very, very nice.

"Nice?" she pulled a little out of her cower. "Tobeet give Nri to nice Hork-Bajir?" Then she glared at Rachel. "Tobeet like mean Rash?" she asked, her tone questioning, as if she couldn't believe I did.

"Excuse me - rash?" Rachel replied loudly.

Rachel is a friend, I replied. For once I was glad I couldn't smile, or else Rachel would have made me regret it.

"Rash not nice," she said quietly. "Rash yell too much!" she said in a sudden, loud voice, then scampered around behind me. "Rash should no yell."

"Stop calling me that!" Rachel said, her tone commanding but not mean. "It's Rachel. Rae-chel."

"Rae-shhhhhhhl?" Nri tried. I laughed. "Rash have funny name, like Axie but short."

Rachel had to laugh. "Axie?" She looked at Ax, grinning. He shrugged a little. Rachel then grew serious again. "Okay, first things first - we get her out of the woods and to the Hork-Bajir." I would have nodded, but hawks don't do that. "Or you do, at least. Do you think you can take her yourself, Tobias?"

No problem, I replied.

She nodded slightly. "We'll plan when you get back." She sighed, looking down at Nri again. Nri frowned at her. "It's really kind of sad we can't keep her," Rachel said. "Now she'll never get my name right."

"Rash have funny name," Nri agreed, trying to be helpful.

CHAPTER 14

I started bringing Nri to the Hork-Bajir that afternoon. Traveling was slow, because Nri couldn't really fly - her wings were simply too small and too weak to carry her. Instead she traveled by jumping from tree to tree. Sometimes, though, she'd try to fly by flapping her wings, which cut her momentum and sent her crashing into a tree branch - if she was lucky. If she wasn't lucky, she crashed right to the ground. This happened for about an hour or two, until she learned how to control her fall by digging her talons into the tree before she fell too far. Though she stopped falling (most of the time), it still slowed us down.

Another problem with how Nri traveled was that it tired her out. It was like she was trying to run hurdles, but it was also as if some smart aleck had set the hurdles at all different heights - including over her head. I didn't blame her for tiring quickly: it just tried my patience a little. I didn't let it show.

A third problem is that, as it turns out, Nri Elka likes to talk. You've seen how she talks. It's cute, most of the time. But it's also sometimes confusing. Like her "big meanie" - and "biggies" in general. As far as I could tell, "biggies" was an alien race she had a lot of experience with, but whenever I asked her what they looked like, all she'd say is, "They big big big!" Whenever I asked about the "big meanie", she'd simply stop, cowering and whimpering, and refuse to go on until I changed the subject and got her to forget I'd mentioned it at all. Also, I refused to ask her about othyb anymore, because what she knew of her people made no sense.

Finally finally finally we reached the Hork-Bajir's hidden valley Thursday evening. Nri easily fit through the narrow opening to the valley, but remained cowering by the entrance, unsure of what to do.

I flew on ahead, and was quickly spotted by several Hork-Bajir in the trees. Many of them shouted to me, ecstatic to see me. I'm sort of a celebrity among the free Hork-Bajir, because I and the others helped to free the first two Hork-Bajir. Even though all the Animorphs (except Sarah: we didn't know her then) played a part in that, I spent the most time with those Hork-Bajir. Those Hork-Bajir - Jara Hamee and Ket Halpak - even named their daughter, Toby Hamee, after me.

A familiar voice stood out among the others. "Tobias!" Jara called up to me from one of the treetops. Many of the Hork-Bajir were in the trees, using their terrible-looking blades to carefully strip bark from the trees. In spite of their fierce appearance, Hork-Bajir are honestly really sweet: all those dangerous blades are actually meant for stripping bark from trees, for the Hork-Bajir to eat.

Hi, Jara, I replied, but continued flying over him and the others, to a small lake to one side of the valley. I relaxed my wings, gliding down toward a young Hork-Bajir sitting near the side of the lake - or, at least, sitting as much as a Hork-Bajir does. This Hork-Bajir looked different from the adults because of her mere five-foot height and the focused look in her eyes, but I knew the differences went far deeper. I flapped my wings to kill my speed, landing beside her.

The Hork-Bajir looked at me, but didn't really smile. "Hello, Tobias."

Hi, Toby.

"What is it that brings you here? We have not seen you for many weeks."

We got ourselves a new ally. A former human-Controller. We were busy, fighting the Yeerks as usual, plus helping her get used to it.

She frowned slightly. "You sound disturbed. Has something gone wrong?"

I sighed. Trust Toby to cut to the heart of the problem without me really hinting that there was one in the first place. She's like that. Sarah - our ally... she was killed two days ago.

Toby nodded slightly, as if she had known that was what I was going to say. "How is everyone else?"

Ax is taking it kind of hard, but we're all dealing. Soon as I get back we're going to start planning how to fight what killed her.

A disturbed look crossed Toby's face. "What killed her?" she asked, her voice matching her expression.

An othyb, I replied. I sounded strangely tired: I don't know why, I just did. A really, really big othyb.

Toby nodded slightly again. "I feared this," she said quietly. "Things have been good here - we've had four births since you left, freed twenty-two. The last batch was the eight officers we freed yesterday. Five are free. There's one I'd like you to meet. He is very wise."

Another Seer? I asked, startled. "Seers" are Hork-Bajir like Toby, who are more intelligent than normal, simpler Hork-Bajir. Most Hork-Bajir don't sound much more intelligent than Nri Elka does, though they tend to use a mix of English and their own language, but Toby - well, I think you can see where she's different from that. Lots of times she seems almost psychic. Seers are extremely rare.

She smiled, just faintly, but shook her head. "No, Sel Clemen is not a Seer," she replied, standing up. "He is far better than that." She held out her arm; I flapped up to perch between her wrist and elbow blades. She moved quickly, through the trees to another clearing, where four caves lined the wall of the valley. A cold firepit stood in the middle of the clearing, surrounded by six Hork-Bajir who faced the caves. "Where is Sel Clemen?" Toby asked one of them.

It pointed to the third cave. "Tend fugue," it said. "Busy, now."

Toby nodded, then headed for the third cave.

It was so dark inside, it took awhile for my eyes to adjust to the difference, and even then everything was reduced to blacks and grays. Inside were two Hork-Bajir - one whimpering and trying to claw at its head, the other holding it just above its wrists, keeping it from hurting itself. "Easy, now," the second one said in a soft voice. "Almost done. Let go. Relax."

I watched as, slowly, a gray slug began to creep out of the whimpering Hork-Bajir's ear. Suddenly it fell to the floor of the cave. The first Hork-Bajir stopped whimpering, and stood with the help of the second. The Yeerk on the floor rolled into a ball, shriveling until it finally turned into a little pile of dust. "Go now," the second Hork-Bajir told the first.

"Thank you," the first said. "Thank you."

The second nodded. "Go. Go eat." The first thanked the second four more times before leaving the cave. The second finally looked at Toby and me. "Welcome, little Seer," it said, smiling kindly without opening its mouth. I wondered if it had realized that copying a toothy human smile was frightening to most creatures, or if it simply hadn't developed the habit the same way Jara had. "This our nothlit friend?"

Toby nodded. "This is Tobias," she said. "Tobias, this is Sel Clemen." She returned Sel's easy smile with her own, faint one. "He is our first elder."

Sel Clemen's smile was so simple, so happy, I would have been smiling too if my beak let me. He ducked his head a little and smiled even more. In spite of his smile, though, I saw that his eyes were sad. He spoke slowly, as if thinking carefully about each word he spoke. He had a simple way of speaking balanced by something in his voice - something ancient, wise, in spite of his mostly monosyllabic speech. His smile faded slightly, into something less focused. "I remember the Old days, of Father Deep and Mother Sky. Of great Fit fit and old Kanver, of our world, so gone now. I remember well the Yeerks, the Andalites, the Writhing Air." He closed his eyes, his head falling farther forward and his shoulders falling low, so that he looked very old, very defeated. "I remember, too, the flashing of brother's blade to sister's throat and child's blade to mother's heart, on the land of their mothers and fathers. I remember first times, when Hork-Bajir killed Hork-Bajir." He raised his head, smiling a little again, at a less painful memory. "I remember too, the others, those of orba, the ones of wings and height, who meant no harm but did so much. Those of odd- speech and great claws, who trusted me who hurt them too."

"Sel Clemen is very old," Toby said. "He was also Grer Sixteen under Visser Three."

"Ah, yes, Grer," Sel Clemen said. "I very old, too old for fight - too slow, yes, poor me - but I kept for good human tongue. I had much time to learn much."

Toby's expression returned to her normal, slightly troubled, very intent one. "Sel, one of Tobias' companions was killed by the othyb," she told him.

The smile vanished completely. "Out of here," he said suddenly, instead of replying right away. "I no like dark place now - I like sun. Sun feel good, now, again. Come, come - out." He led the way out of the cave, and I saw that his color was slightly different from most Hork-Bajir - he was not so much green-black as a dull gray-green. He walked slowly, one leg at a time, almost as if he was tiptoeing. "The othyb are few," he began, his expression far away, before suddenly seeming to snap back into the present. He stopped walking, turning to face Toby with his easy, closed-mouthed smile. "You hear all I say, little Seer. Want you hear again?" His tone was teasing, like someone who knew they were boring someone else.

"I love to hear you speak," Toby replied. "But I'll let Tobias listen alone. He needs your knowledge now." She raised her arm, and Sel Clemen did likewise, so that I merely had to hop from one alien arm to the other. Toby excused herself and walked away. Sel Clemen headed off in another direction. His tone became serious and focused again. "The othyb are few," he said again. "Which so killed your friend?"

Arctesch, I said as best I could.

Sel Clemen nodded once, slowly, in understanding. "Sub-Visser Nineteen. He do as he do well, but he is unhappy. Impatient to grow up, little kawatnoj."

What do you mean?

"Arctesch-" he said perfectly, "-is oldest of othyb - not like I oldest here. No othyb is so old as I, no. All othyb young, yet. Arctesch not want so. He want more othyb. He wants othyb to live as other races, but othyb are not a race. Othyb are ourselves and those of wings and height. Those that he look like."

I don't understand.

Sel Clemen chuckled a little, smiling patiently. "I speak like old geezer," he said jokingly. "I ramble. Forgive the geezer, Tobias."

I would have smiled if I could have. No, it's all right.

He waved at nothing with his other arm, as if to brush the thought out of his way. "With those of height and wings was machines to mix animal with animal. Yeerks want to create a race that not exist now, so they mix one of us with one of those of wings and height, many times in those machines. Most mixes not work - nothing happen. But one did, one day - he look like those of height and wings, but with our skin and eyes of his own. He was named Arctesch."

So the othyb are hybrids, I said.

Sel Clemen nodded. "Part us, part them, but neither. More came after Arctesch - some live, but many die. Arctesch not like that most die. He love his people, so few they are. All male, too."

But-

Sel looked directly at me for the first time. "What wrong?"

But they're not all male.

He frowned a little. "They will be," he said finally. "Was only one female - most strong of othyb, but not best. Arctesch was thought best.

Female thought to be unmange- unmana- not trusted. But now she gone."

Gone?

"I Grer once. I know." His frown deepened. "Othyb fight Andalites. One Andalite die. Three othyb fight, but two return."

You mean Jrikvelh disappeared?

He had to think about it a moment. "So it is I said."

She- she gave me something.

"An othyb gift, to nothlit?" Sel was surprised. No wonder. "What gift it was?"

It should be by the entrance - it was there a little while ago. Sel broke into a slow trot, headed for the tight entrance to the valley: it didn't take too long to get there, considering we had been walking in that direction to begin with.

He slowed down, stopping right next to the entrance. "Where gift, Tobias?" he asked, looking around for anything unusual.

Nri? I called out to her alone.

A small face, with a sharply hooked snout and just the beginning of a horn showing, peered out from between the sides of the opening.

Immediately, Sel Clemen's face became stern. "Why you in there?" he demanded. "Out not safe, fool kawatnoj! In good. You go back in, now!"

The green-gold eyes widened: with a quiet cry, the face pulled back in.

With a sigh, I traded Sel Clemen's arm for the ground. It's all right, Nri, I urged her, not letting Sel hear me, Sel Clemen is one of the nice Hork-Bajir.

"He no sound nice," came a quiet reply from within the darkness of the entrance. Sel Clemen's expression changed from stern to upset.

He knows how dangerous it is out there, I said, no longer keeping it between her and me. Come on, Nri - it's okay. Come in here.

Slowly, the slightly pale green face returned, the corners of her mouth turned downward. Nri put her head out farther, letting sunlight fall on more of her obviously un-Hork-Bajiran horn and the beginning of her very un-Hork-Bajiran mane.

Sel Clemen gave a strange cry, jumping suddenly backwards. Nri jerked back into the shadows, startled. Collecting himself, Sel Clemen leaned over so that his head almost touched the ground, and slowly approached the shadows. "What, this?" he asked me. "What speak like me but is so small?" He peered into the darkness, trying to see Nri better, but Hork-Bajir have pretty lame eyesight.

This is Nri Elka, Sel Clemen, I answered him. She is the gift I spoke of - Ner's niece."

"Ner?" he echoed, looking back at me.

Jrikvelh has a Hork-Bajir name, like Nri does. Hers is Ner Gerinn.

"Gerinn?" He said it in three syllables, more like "gE'air-in" then "Gear-in" as I said it. Suddenly Sel's eyes squinted, and he chuckled, then laughed. "Yes, gerinn, it fit her well. Gerinn!"

What? What do you mean?

He laughed again. "Gerinn is Hork-Bajir word. I not hear gerinn for long time."

It means something?

His smile widened. "It mean 'red'."

I thought about that a moment, then laughed. Yeah, 'red' does kind of fit.

"Nri Elka strange name. I know no Elka from our world. And none be call 'Gerinn'. 'Gerinn' no is name."

"Gerinn is name!" Nri said from the shadows. Walking on all fours, she slowly crept from her hiding place. Sel's eyes widened, but he didn't react as violently this time: he simply stood still and stared. "Gerinn is Ner name."

Slowly, Sel's expression of shock eased away, and, even more slowly, his easy, contagious smile returned. "So it be," he answered her. He bent his knees, crouching down so that he wasn't off-balance anymore, but so that he didn't tower over her, either. "You are Nri Elka, little winged one?"

Nri nodded. "Ner name me from Mami."

Her mother, I explained, seeing Sel's expressive face drifting toward confusion. For some reason, Nri only seems to be able to speak English.

Sel smiled at Nri. "I no mean to be mad to you," he said in his slow, patient way. "I no want you hurt. It bad out of valley, bad thing be there. You hurt would not be happy for me."

Nri blinked a few times, as if the sun was in her eyes, before looking at me. "This nice Hork-Bajir?" she asked.

Yes, Nri. Sel Clemen is a nice Hork-Bajir.

"No Thother?"

No Yeerks. They're not allowed here.

Slowly, like Sel Clemen's, Nri's smile took over her face. She ran to Sel Clemen, and, with a graceful leap, jumped to his shoulder. She wrapped her ridiculously long tail around his neck to anchor herself, and rubbed her snout against the side of his face.

Sel Clemen looked surprised, but his smile returned quickly this time.

"You are welcome here, little Nri Elka," he said in that voice that was so simple and yet so wise. He turned away from the entrance, and looked down at me. "You come intr- introde- int- ah, difwah, I not know word now. I know before, but it gone for now. Come when I not need of it." He frowned a little in annoyance at his inability to remember the word "introduce". "You help show Nri Elka to Hork-Bajir with me?"

I flew up to his other shoulder, which was a little narrow for me, but I managed to get a talonhold. Sure, I said.

We went back into the collection of trees that dominate the center of the Hork-Bajir's valley. It was unnaturally quiet. Where is everybody? I asked, looking up. The trees were empty.

Sel Clemen frowned even more. "Know not," he muttered quietly. "I lean on four leg, now, nothlit friend. You fly, see where others be, I take Nri Elka where you say?"

It took me a moment to understand what he meant. Uhh... oh. Yeah. Yeah, I'll do that. I jumped off his shoulder, as far forward as I could, so that when I spread my wings I didn't slap him in the face. Getting altitude from beneath the trees was hard work, but soon I was a couple hundred feet up, and could easily see where the other Hork-Bajir were. They were all crowded around the caves we'd been in earlier. The first cave's entrance was almost blocked by Hork-Bajir bodies, but, with my telescopic hawk vision, I could just see something red beyond them.

Red, tawny yellow, and neutral green.

Without a word to Sel Clemen or Nri Elka, I flew as hard as my wings would let me toward the caves.

CHAPTER 15

I flew toward the crowd at top speed, skimming dangerously close to tree branches. I soared upward... and had to believe what my eyes had told me before.

Close to eighty Hork-Bajir, from bladeless infants to full adults, surrounded a creature twice their height, with wider shoulders, a narrower waist, and an almost ridiculously long tail. A creature with medium green skin, yellowish stomach plates, and brilliant red hair.

I landed on Toby Hamee's shoulder. She held out her arm, giving me a better perch. She was the closest to the visitor. What are you doing here, Jrikvelh? I asked the newcomer tonelessly.

She turned her head, quickly spotting me among the Hork-Bajir. "Hello again, bird," she said. Her eyes narrowed. "Where is Nri Elka?"

'Not guaranteed to follow orders,' I said coldly. 'Difficult children.' You othyb always look out for your own interests, don't you? The only reason you let us live was to shove that poor kid on us!

By the time I was done talking, I was shouting. Every single Hork-Bajir was staring at me with their reptilian, crimson eyes. I didn't care.

Jrikvelh's very different eyes - almond-shaped, intelligent, almost cat-like eyes of molten, antique gold - stared at me as well. "The othyb were created by the Yeerks," she said softly, "in test tubes, containing two DNA strands spliced into one. One strand had come from a great man I loved dearly, though I only saw his old, broken body once. The other came from a mutilated Hork-Bajir slave whose sole purpose was to raise us, one who cared for us in spite of our horrible, unnatural appearances, one who was killed once the last of us was beyond the need of her care. I don't even know what her name was. We were made by Yeerks, raised by Yeerks, but molded by our mother and, in a more covert way, our father. Whose purpose would you rather I serve - mine and my parents, or my creators?"

You left an innocent child with a complete stranger.

Jrikvelh closed her eyes. "Nri Elka is hardly innocent," she said finally, opening her eyes and looking in my direction again. "But yes, I left her with you. You, who offered your life for your comrade's. You, who was intelligent enough to see the loophole in the agreement we made, though nothing came of it. You, whose wishes coincided with my own. Are you saying I made a mistake?"

You abandoned her!

Jrikvelh bared her teeth. A growl escaped her throat. "Would you rather I kill her, as her mother did her four sisters? Would you rather I kept her, let her be discovered, let both of us be killed? Would you rather I give her to Arctesch to be his personal concubine?"

My mouth would have fallen to the ground if I didn't have a beak. But - Arctesch is your brother, Nri's mom was your sister -

"Arctesch is insane," she snarled. "We all are, but mostly him. He thinks othyb are perfection." Without warning, she burst out laughing.

"What is it you find funny?" Toby asked Jrikvelh.

The othyb regarded her. "Perfection," she replied.

"Ner!"

A tiny body shoved through the packed-together Hork-Bajir, leaping toward Jrikvelh. Jrikvelh's tail whipped forward, and the little thing slammed into the blunt side of her tailblade. The thing scampered up the length of her tail, up the double row of spines that protruded from Jrikvelh's back, to Jrikvelh's shoulder. Nri rubbed her snout against Jrikvelh's. "Nri miss Ner!" Nri cried. She buried her talons in Jrikvelh's thick red hair.

"And Ner miss Nri," Jrikvelh said softly. Her eyes closed tightly, as if she was in great pain, she nuzzled Nri back. "How I missed you, dear one," she whispered. Nri nearly purred with pleasure.

"So you are the one who left her?" The slow, careful voice was unmistakable. The Hork-Bajir stepped out of Sel Clemen's way, respectfully giving the old Hork-Bajir a clear path to the center of the circle.

Jrikvelh met his orangy-red eyes with her greenish-gold ones. "I chose the best of many evils, old one," she replied.

He dipped his head in a single nod. "As must we all." He stepped closer to her. "How do your kind greet another of your kind?"

She shook her head. Her hair, three shades redder than Sel Clemen's eyes, swirled around her, looking almost as if it had a life of its own. Nri Elka looked at Jrikvelh, then Sel Clemen, then chirped, and buried her snout in Jrikvelh's hair. "We do as only we can - greet each other by name, not designation," Jrikvelh replied.

"Designation?" Toby echoed. "How are othyb designated?"

"With Yeerk names meant to do us honor." Her mouth turned downward. "I am Othyb Zero-Seven-Three, of Two-Zero-Zero. It means that I am the result of the seventy-third random combination, of two hundred combinations, of DNA which resulted in the formation of the othyb."

"How many othyb are there currently?" Toby asked.

"Eleven. Othybs Zero-Two-Two, Zero-Seven-Three, One-Eight-One, Zero-Four-Four-One through Zero-Four-Four-Six, and Nri Elka, who could, in an abstract way, be considered number Zero-Four-Four-Seven. Nine males, two females. One is infantile, five children, four adolescent, one full grown."

"You are ado-" Sel Clemen frowned at the word he had no practice at. "You are not adult, but near it."

Jrikvelh nodded slightly. "Arctesch is the adult of us, but only because he had his aging process quickened in order to grow more quickly. I, my younger brother, Juvrenz, and two of my sister's sons - those that are more Hork-Bajiran than the others - are nearly adults. Five other sons are younger, their Hork-Bajir blood being thinner, and Nri Elka... Nri Elka is three weeks old."

Three weeks?

I would never complain about how she talked ever again.

But....

Why does Nri only speak in English? I asked Jrikvelh.

"Because it is all I have taught her," she replied. "From the first I meant to bring her here, to be with you and your allies, but I know nothing of your language. Instead I taught her the dialect used by native Controllers."

"Why are othyb not Controllers?" Toby asked.

Sel Clemen made a sound, sort of like he was clearing his throat. "Race of height and wings - race of Jrikvelh's father - of Jirrell - die if make Controller. Males die. Females soon die - not first Yeerk, always, but they die on next Yeerk, or next. But Yeerk - no matter the number - each Yeerk in one of that race die too. More lost than made if that race given a Yeerk. Two othyb once given Yeerks. They react like other race. They kill each other with blades-" he swiped his elbow blade at another Hork-Bajir's neck in demonstration, "- and kill Yeerks too. Yeerks have great rank. Large loss."

"Othyb One-One-Double-Two and Othyb One-One-Double-Two," Jrikvelh said. "Liured, and Deruil. The first othyb to be 'born' after me. It was a ploy from the start. Deruil's idea. They would voluntarily be infested, then kill the Yeerks within themselves, and call it an accident. It nearly worked. Deruil's was nearly dead. But Liured...." Jrikvelh bowed her head. Nri whimpered, nuzzling Jrikvelh's snout with her own. "Liured wasn't like the rest of us. He wasn't strong. He was.... peaceful. His only reason for living - in all the ways that can be construed - was Deruil. He tried to defeat the Yeerk, but the Yeerk's will was greater. Deruil would not live without Liured, and if Liured was infested it would be the end of us all. So they slashed each other at the neck. Together born, together dead. Forever together." She returned Nri's nuzzle. Nri removed her talons from Jrikvelh's hair and hugged her neck.

They were twins?

"Together born, together dead. Forever together," Jrikvelh said again, giving me a cold, emotionless look that matched her toneless voice.

Don't you care?

"Death is death," she said, looking at me as if she did not understand why I was upset. "Can you be so unfamiliar with it? This is war, bird. Death is a part of war, same as war is a part of peace and death is a part of life. If you are willing to live you must be willing to die, bird - you are nothlit, aren't you? Even though your continuing ability to morph defies all the laws stated by accepted zero-space conversion hypotheses, you cannot be unfamiliar with that fundamental rule?" Her tone made it sound like a question; the chill intelligence in her eyes made it into a lesson. "The pain of death isn't on the dying, but the living that cannot accept their end."

"You speak like one too familiar," Sel Clemen interrupted her. "You speak like one of many years more than me. You are too old for your age, Jrikvelh." She did not reply. "You are as old as Toby Hamee."

"That is you," Jrikvelh said, looking straight at Toby.

"Yes."

"No, I am no older than you. If I am, it isn't much." She looked at Sel Clemen. "The race you speak of - of 'height and wings', of Jirrell - they are called Bayetai. What Arctesch appears as - what he does such dishonor to - is our father in our mother's skin. Bayetai have flesh paler than mine... I am a hybrid. A true hybrid. I..." She sighed suddenly, and appeared to deflate. Most of the Hork-Bajir backed away as her shoulders fell, as her enormous tailblade sagged to the ground, as she simply seemed to whither into something smaller. Her tone became strange... something far different than what she had ever used before. "The first was of Bayetai, but dark, the second of Hork-Bajir but pale," she said, her tone now distant, as if she was reciting a poem from memory. "The third was neither, an exact mix. The fourths were more Bayetai. The fifth was simply zoh'ek - unnatural. The sixth was mostly Bayetai, the seventh mostly Hork-Bajir. The last..." She shuddered, drawing farther into herself. Nri Elka whimpered, trying to

peer into one of Jrikvelh's eyes, but Jrikvelh wasn't seeing her. "The last was what they wanted." She rubbed a comforting hand on Nri's forehead. "The last was orba."

CHAPTER 16

Oh, no, I whispered.

"The Yeerks have an orba?" Toby Hamee demanded. She received no reply. "We must know!" Still, nothing.

"Let her be," Sel Clemen said, placing a gentle hand on Toby's. "There is much she must think of."

"How you know?" a Hork-Bajir I didn't know demanded. "She freak! Othyb!" Among the crowd, the word othyb began echoing, over and over. That, and "freak".

"You see freak?" Sel Clemen said, looking, almost slyly, at the Hork-Bajir who had spoken. Every last Hork-Bajir fell silent. "You look." He stepped closer to Jrikvelh. Nri cooed wordlessly at him. "You see? Too pale skin. Too long, too straight talons. Too few fingers. The face. The eyes. And hair! Hair at all!" He circled around her once. "But... ah." He lifted Nri's chin with one of his talons. She smiled at him. "A kawatnoj without mother... without father. But still hers. She told to remain with Tobias, she stay with me, but she is of Jrikvelh." He looked at the others. "We are of many things. We are of parents, of worlds, of wars. I, too few others, we remember our world. Our world that no longer is. Many, too many of us, remember only Yeerks, only their worlds. And few... a lucky few..." he looked around at the younger Hork-Bajir, and a faint smile appeared on his face, "remember something better. They know only this." Then he looked at Toby. "But we follow our Seer, and no other. She guides us. Would we follow another?"

A cry of "No!" rang up from the others.

"She is of us," he said, gesturing vaguely toward Jrikvelh. "If her mother - one of us - can accept her, how can we not? She has lost enough. I have as well." He moved to stand in front of Jrikvelh. "I knew your father," he said in his slow, careful way. "He was a good man. A man of his word. A leader. Once, people followed him. I... were not for I, he would lead them home. But I... I was a fool. But as a fool you are here, and Nri is here. So many died that you may exist. May they forgive my happiness that you have come, Jrikvelh, daughter of Jirrell and a Hork-Bajir none shall ever know but shall forever thank."

Slowly, Jrikvelh blinked. She turned her head to look Sel Clemen in the eye. "You are as insane as Arctesch," she whispered. "I came to say goodbye." She removed Nri Elka from her shoulder. Holding her carefully in her massively taloned hands, she looked at the tiny creature with such pain in her eyes I didn't know why she wasn't crying. "Dearest one..."

"Ner... go?" Nri's face crunched up. "No! No no no! Ner no go now! Ner stay, stay always!"

"No, Nri." Nri whimpered. "You must stay with bird... with... with Tobias. With the Andalites. Maybe with these Hork-Bajir. Not with me."

"You cannot leave!" one of the Hork-Bajir shouted at her. "You know of us!"

"Yes," Toby said, her tone calm. "How did you find us, Jrikvelh?"

"My eyesight is not far greater than yours," Jrikvelh murmured, "nor my hearing. Taste and touch are irrelevant. But my sense of smell..." She lowered her head slightly. "My snout is longer than yours, and made wider than a Bayetajin's by the curve that comes from my Hork-Bajiran heritage. Its shape enhances my sense of smell. And Nri left a very clear trail - a trail that led me here. The presence of others at the entrance forced me to find another, which I made by climbing here." Those "others" had to be Sel Clemen and me. Jrikvelh bowed her head, gently pressing her forward horn against Nri's. Nri met her horn with her own with a little whimper. "Goodbye, little one," she murmured to Nri Elka. "Obey Tobias. Do as he says, as you have me. Be well, Nri Elka. I give my freedom for yours." She put Nri Elka down and stepped backwards. "That is how it was meant to be."

Nri Elka must do as I say? I said.

Jrikvelh looked at me. I don't know if I've ever seen such pain in any one person's eyes. "You have the instincts to survive and the intellect to know what to do when you do. That should be enough for her to live, as none I have known have been able to. To be free."

Fine. I looked at Nri Elka. She looked at me. Nri, do not leave Ner Gerinn.

Nri Elka looked startled, then looked at Jrikvelh. Then she looked back at me. Then Jrikvelh. Then me. And back. And forth. Then at the Hork-Bajir, as if they could help. Back at me. Back toward Jrikvelh.

Then she threw back her head, squeezed her eyes shut, and wailed. "No no no!" she screamed. "Ner say go with Tobeet, Tobeet say go with Ner, Nri no want go from both!" She looked at Jrikvelh. "Nri no want go Ner, Ner no go, Nri stay with Ner, always! Mami want Nri stay!!" Then she looked at me. "Nri no want go Tobeet, Tobeet fly, Nri fly! Ner want Nri stay!!" She wailed wordlessly some more before continuing. "Tobeet want Nri stay with nice Hork-Bajir, but Nri want no! No want! Nri want Ner and Nri want Tobeet and Nri want stay!" She stamped her foot in a way that would later make me laugh. "Nri want all stay!" She stamped her foot and bawled tearlessly some more.

"See what you have done," Jrikvelh growled in a voice so harsh it didn't seem to be a voice at all. "You accuse me of injuring the one reason I have to live up to my name. And you turn on her as well! Perhaps I was wrong about you, bird. Perhaps instinct and thought were not meant to combine. Maybe freaks like you and me should be killed before we can curse others with the pain we have - of never knowing who we are, of never knowing anything with certainty. Of eternal conflict and never-ending pain. Of being of two worlds and never being able to exist in either." I was so startled at the exact translation of all my feelings ever since I'd become trapped that all I could do was stare at her terrifying enraged face and bared, two-inch long teeth. "Perhaps the three of us are better off dead where we can never hurt anyone, least of all ourselves. I'd always thought that was a selfish mindset, but I suppose I can be wrong. I have been before. But never again." She turned away, and I saw the muscles in her throat go tight. I saw her raise her hand, palm up. I saw her tighten her fingers, outstretched, talons glinting in the sunlight-

"No."

Sel Clemen stepped up to Jrikvelh, right in front of her, the grayish- green skin of his stomach pressing against her tawny stomach plates. He raised his head so that he looked straight up. The tip of his snout came to Jrikvelh's chin. "What Jirrell has done shall not end with you, dead at your blade. My shame shall not die with you at your blade. Nothing ends by the end of a blade."

"What are you talking about?" she snapped at him, glaring into his old, pained eyes that never quite smiled. "What shame do you continuously babble about?"

"The shame of betrayal," he replied, keeping his snout raised, in the way of her throat. "The shame of being a fool and being captured, to use as a toy of another. To be used to hurt my loves and my friends. I had a daughter, Jrikvelh. I, my mate, we name her Nia for my mother, who was Nila. Nia Clemen. Jirrell, you father, save her when another of Bayetai kill my mate in terror. Nia Clemen I betray too. Nia Clemen dead now, die with daughters of Jirrell."

She stepped backwards, away from him. The circle of Hork-Bajir widened, keeping very distant from the confused and enraged othyb and her massive tailblade. "What are you talking about?" she snarled.

He lowered his head in order to look her in the eye again. "Know you not that Jirrell have daughter before othyb, have family before you?"

I stared at the two of them. Toby, Nri Elka, the Hork-Bajir... every one of us stared at the two of them in equal confusion.

"No," Jrikvelh replied quietly.

Sel Clemen nodded once. "Ah. Understand, then." He stepped closer to her. "Before, when Bayetai come to our world, we were in war with Yeerks. We almost were lost - not yet, but near. Then new ships appear. Three. Of design that became like blade ship. Like human dragons. Like living creature of great danger.

"From those ships come great monsters - tall and thin and winged monsters like us but too different. Haired. Pale. Unnatural. They speak in strange form of our words, many that we not hear before. We not understand, most. We fear, as monster of Father Deep, or worse, more Yeerk. But when fight come, leader pull one aside. One see that he father of them. Monster, Yeerk, have no father. But... misunderstanding. Fight again. Then Yeerk come, find, destroy. Again, leader save what he could. Save Nia, save me. But Yeerk find us again, and I captured. I taken. And I betray. I betray leader, who trust me. He believe lie told by Yeerk in me, and that kill his daughters." He bared his teeth, then gripped the twelve-foot, dragon-like creature by the arms and shook her. He just shook her. It was like me attacking a cougar, or a human shaking a grizzly bear. The size difference was that staggering. "I will kill no more of Jirrell's daughters!" he shouted, teeth clenched together. "No more!"

Jrikvelh stared at him, greenish-golden eyes wide in surprise and shock. The rest of us stared as well, not sure what was going on, not sure how to stop it or even if it should be stopped at all.

"Jirrell believe in freedom," Sel Clemen said in a cold voice. "He believe that all meant to live, to die, by truth. He teach me so, I teach you so. Conflict is life, yes. But truth is strong, better than conflict. Two halves make whole. I am old shame and new hope. Tobias bird and not. Toby Hork-Bajir and Seer. You are Hork-Bajir and Bayetai. I am whole, Tobias is whole, Toby is whole. You are whole. You say you can not be either. But, without either, you could not be you."

I stared at Sel Clemen with new respect. It had taken me months to realize what he was saying off the top of his head. Once, I pitied myself for becoming a nothlit, and when I regained my morphing powers I was mad that I wasn't human again. But if I were human, I wouldn't be who I am. I knew that now. I once believed that I couldn't be who I was by being what I was. It took a long time to realize that what I am has made me who I am.

Jrikvelh's surprise melted into what could only be described as anguish. She bent down, and, to my surprise, gave Sel Clemen an awkward hug. She rested her head over his shoulder, curving her snout behind his neck. "I am two halves not meant to be joined," she murmured. "And I am a warrior on the wrong side of a war, a side I can betray no farther. No Yeerk shall take me, so none may know of you. I am a greater danger here than where I belong."

"You belong with us," Toby said, stepping closer. "You belong with Nri Elka."

"I belong as I have been, as the property of that which made me," Jrikvelh replied. She stepped away from Sel Clemen, who did not seem to want to let her go. He clasped her hand with his own and refused to let go. "When one makes something, it is theirs. A child belongs to their parents. A machine belongs to its builder. I belong to the Yeerks."

Not here, I spoke up. Toby glanced at me, and her slight smile appeared for a moment. Not on this planet, Ner Gerinn. At least, not in this country.

She looked at me. "You cannot persuade me, Tobias. I know what you are. Your name betrays you."

I'm willing to bet you do, because I didn't think you were stupid enough not to realize it, I replied flatly. But you're on American soil, Ner Gerinn. And property laws here aren't the same as the ones you know. Things work differently in the good ol' United States of America. Just because you make something doesn't make it yours forever. You can sell it to someone else, and it becomes theirs. Property isn't about creation - it's about possession.

She scowled at me. She had one terrifying scowl. "What are you talking about?"

See, there's a lawful system of trade here, known as capitalism. We trade currency for what we want. That's how most people work. Not everybody's happy with it, though, so they go outside the system. Sel Clemen smiled. Toby didn't look at me. The other Hork-Bajir seemed confused. Of course, capitalism means less than nothing to them, so it wasn't surprising. Instead, they do something called 'stealing'. They take things without paying the fair price for them. Ner Gerinn, Jerrik Velh or however

you say your name.... I would have smiled if I could, ....consider yourself stolen.

She stared at me, then smiled, slowly. "If you cannot pronounce my true name," she said, "then I have another you may use." The smile grew less mysterious, more like a smirk. "You may call me Ikell."

I stared at her for a long time. None of the Hork-Bajir said anything, not knowing what she was talking about.

After several minutes, Jrikvelh burst out laughing. Not the laugh from before, when she had mentioned Arctesch's love of perfection, but an honest, sincere laugh that came from somewhere deep inside her. It was less of a laugh and more of a purring chuckle, one that, just as Sel Clemen's smile made you want to smile, made you want to laugh with her.

CHAPTER 17

I walked into the barn in my human form. The others looked at me in surprise. "Hey," Marco greeted me. "What, got tired of going through the hayloft? And where's your little pet?"

"Nri Elka isn't a pet," I corrected him. "And we've got more serious things to talk about."

"More serious?" he echoed. "What, it's not enough that we've got to worry about the othyb stalking us and that you got a baby othyb self- delivered to you? What now?"

"The Hork-Bajir have stolen something," I replied. "I helped them to do it."

"What?" Rachel asked. "A weapon?"

"Information?" Cassie asked.

"Better," I replied. "A hostage."

Behind me, a girl with brilliant red hair that went almost to the ground walked into the barn.

Immediately, everyone stiffened. Not just because it was not a good thing that someone else walked into the barn when we were discussing things that could easily get us killed.

It was also because she was extremely familiar. We'd all seen her, at least once.

"Ikell!" Ax hissed.

The girl looked at him with golden-green eyes that were too long and too narrow, and that didn't so much look at him as look in his general direction. "The Hork-Bajir have decided to hold me hostage," she said. "The reason I stand before you this way is not it, but it is the reason why I have agreed to it."

"Agreed to be a hostage?" Cassie echoed, confused.

Rachel's eyes were narrowed into slits. "I went out of my way to be your friend," she said in a low, dangerous voice.

"For that I am grateful," Ikell replied, turning her sharp but unfocused eyes toward Rachel.

"What do you have to do with this?" she demanded.

"Much, and yet little." Ikell frowned. "Too much, and not enough."

"No riddles," Marco snapped.

Ikell nodded slightly. "Very well. No riddles. But I cannot show you what it is that makes me so important here. Not here. It is too open. Too insecure." She looked around us, at the cages of animals and at the windows of the barn.

"No," Rachel said. "Here. Now. Out with it."

"No," Jake said. Rachel scowled at him. He ignored it. "Fine. We'll go to a more secure place. But one we choose."

"Agreed," Ikell said with a short nod. "I would expect no less fair terms... unless, of course, you wish to chose better-suited morphs than those." She looked around at us. The others' faces revealed nothing. "Very well. Where shall be our place?"

Jake looked at me, then Cassie. "Lead her to the place. We'll meet you there."

Translation: pick a spot, and we'll meet you there in power morphs.

Ikell walked between Cassie and me as we trekked on foot toward the edge of Cassie's family's property. Cassie sort of led the way as we climbed over the horse fence, into the forest. We walked about half a mile in, then stopped in a clearing. Actually, it was an area where a huge tree had fallen and taken three other pretty big trees with it, so that the ground was kind of clear. "This place is suitable," Cassie said. I nodded in agreement.

Ikell looked around, her chin lifted high, as if she was trying to stare down the length of her nose. "Yes," she agreed. "Deserted enough for our purpose here."

The others arrived one by one. First came a gorilla, loping on two feet and two sets of knuckles, its heavy face creased into a heavier scowl. Next was a tiger, liquid metal encased in striped fur, which glided into the clearing, then sat down, wrapping its tail around its feet, like some oversized housecat. A grizzly appeared third, one that stood on its hind legs and growled softly under its breath. Finally, an Andalite ran up to the clearing and stopped.

"Why do the others morph and not you, young one?" Ikell asked the Andalite in a polite, disinterested voice.

I wish the Yeerks to know I live, Ax replied coldly. The others must remain anonymous, but if you are to return to the Yeerks I want Visser Three and Arctesch to know that I am alive, and that I will avenge those they have slain - my brother, and my shorm.

For a moment, I felt a twinge of irrational jealousy. Ax had said that he and I were shorm - an Andalite term meaning a close friend. The concept behind it was that, when two Andalites are shorm, they could put their tailblades to each other's throats and not have the slightest bit of fear. I had known that, thanks to the rare chance to know the intimacy of Udrak's complete symbiosis with Sarah, something that, of us all, only Ax had a chance to experience, Sarah and Ax were very close. It was just that Ax had never used that term in front of the others. They didn't know what it meant. Suddenly I had the urge to laugh - for all they knew, it meant girlfriend. A muscle in Marco's rubbery gorilla face moved, one where his eyebrow would have been if he was in his normal form, as he wondered what, exactly, Ax was talking about.

"Forgive me for telling you of this, then," Ikell said, her face and voice equally dispassionate, cold. "But only othyb can kill othyb, and I have prior claim to the latter abomination."

The others stared at her.

"Show them, Ikell," I said.

She nodded, once.

Then the changes, the beautiful changes, began.

First her hair grew longer than she was tall, but instead of looking like it was growing, it seemed to flow downward, like a blood red waterfall. Her skin turned a neutral green and visibly increased in thickness. From her forehead, a unicorn's horn began to sprout, as her fingers merged from two pairs to one, and began to grow long and sharp. Her face extended out in front of her face growing into a long, slightly beakish snout, one that narrowed into a slightly down-turned point, making her expression seem both curious and intent. Her eyes enlarged and grew slightly more yellow, and their shape became more almond-like. Her eyelashes melted into her eyes, forming a clear third eyelid. Her clothes melted, turning the same green as her skin, except for her chest, which separated into thick, yellowish plates to protect her vital organs. Spines sprouted from her back, and a tail schlooped into existence, stretching out behind her, its heavy blade resting against the ground. Her shoes came to look like giant, raptor talons, though the toes were really just thick, tearing claws and the raised toe, positioned on her heels like a thumb, was little more than an opposable hook. Her knees reversed direction. Many body parts - the limbs, neck, torso - elongated, redistributed so that she was not so dense as before. The redistribution caused her to lose some body width, though not in the shoulders, and gain her height more than twice over. She smoothly went from being no taller than five foot two to at least twelve feet tall, if one counts the long, double-pointed horn that sprouted from her forehead. Finally, serrated blades, excellent for tearing bark from trees and making irreparable damage to enemies, schlooped from her elbows, knees, ankles, and wrists, and her shoulderblades grew pointed, their ends thick and jagged.

Ikell morphed into something never seen on Earth before mere days ago. But it wasn't a morph so much as a change - the metamorphosis was smooth and somewhat logical, and, strangest of all, silent.

The others stared at the sight of the neutral skinned, bright haired creature before them, part dragon, part Hork-Bajir.

What is it? I heard Marco gasp.

"What are you?" Cassie gasped in the exact same way, but focused the question on Ikell, not on the rest of us in general.

"What am I?" Ikell asked in her normal, deeper voice. She chuckled low in her throat. "I am othyb. Once the property of the Yeerks. But now, thanks to Tobias, I have been stolen by the free Hork-Bajir." She looked around at the others. "Othyb are the combination of two races, one Hork-Bajir, one you do not know of. One you shall probably never encounter. The second race - the Bayetai - believed themselves to be descended from a race of shape-shifters known as the orbai. The Bayetai blamed a mix of outside factors and mutation on their loss of the shape- shifting ability. When the Yeerks learned of this belief, and figured out Bayetai genetic recombination technology, they used both in order to combine a very similar but very different race than the Bayetai with the Bayetai. They took the DNA of a Bayetai male, and a Hork-Bajir female - for what reason they chose to use ones of opposite sex, I do not know. But I know that they tried two hundred random combinations, hoping that one would result in something capable of the orbai's lost shape-shifting ability." Her expression became saddened. "They failed. Only one of the results looked anything like an orba, and I killed it."

"You said Orba was your sister?" Cassie said, shock slowly erasing her confused expression.

You killed your own sister? Marco demanded.

"Would you rather I have let her suffer by being the Yeerk's greatest weapon?" she replied coldly. "Her death was painless. She died young. And she did not kill anyone else. She remained innocent to the last. She could hope for no better blessings than that.

"Only an othyb has ever killed another othyb. Liured and Deruil, my younger brothers, killed each other so that they might remain together, forever. My brother Yuuktesl killed himself by blowing up two thirds of a mothership, taking with him three Vissers, eight Under-Vissers, and several thousand Yeerks, but without allowing any one of his relations to come to harm. My older sister, Nrintai, killed herself. My younger sister, Gloift, was sucked out of an airlock whose force field malfunctioned. In all cases, no othyb died at any fault but that of another othyb."

Sucked out an airlock, huh? Marco echoed in a sneer. Can you say 'sabotage'?

"It is not a difficult word," Ikell snapped. "And there was no sabotage. I was the one in charge of regulating force field energy fields and making sure the buffers showed no wear. It was a malfunction, one that would not have happened if I had not been careless in some fashion. Gloift's death was my fault. An accident, yes - but still she died because of the actions of another othyb." She frowned slightly. "The Yeerks did not know where the extinct gene for shape-shifting would lie. They didn't even know the gene sequence itself. They just let fate decide, and ignored what didn't show signs of doing what they wanted it to." Her frown became a harsh, dangerous smile. "In that, they were larger fools than they normally are. They looked for appearance. And the abilities only came to those that appeared least as what they wanted."

"What do you mean?" Cassie asked.

"First, it appeared in Yuuktesl. Yuuktesl... Yuuktesl's genetic code was filled with... peculiar... recessive traits. His skin was nearly blue. His eyes were pure yellow. He was gaunt, even at birth." She lowered her head and closed her eyes. All facial expression vanished. "But Yuuktesl was pure of heart. The Yeerks never thought he would ever amount to much of anything, because he was much smaller and weaker than those of us that had come before him. But they gave him a chance, because Arctesch, I, Deruil, and Liured had - so far - proved our worth. But in his first training session, Yuuktesl slew his trainer. And the next. And the next. No one would train him because he would kill them. Each time he killed an officer he lost a body part - first the talons he used to kill them, then, when he ran out of talons, his horns. He became a slave, and in that lost a finger or toe each time he misbehaved. His eyes began to glaze over but they went untreated. At the time of his death, Yuuktesl was ninety-four percent blind, with only four digits - of which only one was a finger.

"Then, one day.... before such straits came upon him.... he disappeared. Simply vanished. Later he appeared in my quarters. I was a petty officer, barely recognizable from a Hork-Bajir. He came to me in the form of a towering Bayetai, but I knew that there was only one Bayetai on board, and he was not it. As it turned out, Yuuktesl had the ability. The one who gained us the name othyb was what the Yeerks wanted all along.

"Yuuktesl told me that I had the ability, and I called him mad. He said that I was as close to an orba as the Yeerks had come. At the time, he had been the last of us. Gloift, Juvrenz, and Orba had not been born yet. I tried, but nothing happened. So he gave me something he thought was a catalyst to activating the genes for shape-shifting ability."

What? Jake asked.

"Shape-shifting requires concentration, determination, and imagination. It also requires that one's genetic code be somewhat unstable. I had all four, thanks to the fact that, naturally, I could not exist." Her expression was blank, unreadable. "But it also requires something else, it appears. It requires being able to change form at will. Strangely, I could not shape-shift until I gained the ability to break up my own genetic code."

How do you do that? Rachel demanded. It's impossible!

"Not impossible," Ikell said, shaking her head slightly. "You do it at will. You are as you appear because

of your ability to do so." She lowered her head again. "Yuuktesl was put to work salvaging scrap taken from outer space. It was a job meant for machines, but the Yeerks used excess hosts, and those too weak to be useful as hosts. Slaves in this occupation often died of radiation poisoning, malnutrition, and infection.

"One day, we took in a small Andalite fighter, badly damaged, recognizable only by its size and composition. And Yuuktesl stole something from the wreck, same as I myself have been stolen now."

Stop talking riddles and just say it! Rachel snapped.

She isn't talking in riddles, Jake disagreed. His tail snapped the air. Yuek-tessil obviously found an Escafil device.

Ikell cringed. "Perhaps using our Bayetai names are not a good idea," she said. "Even in thought-speak you pronounce it wrong." Cassie snickered. Ikell looked in her direction. "What do you find amusing?"

Cassie grinned. "Just that we're worried about whether to believe you, fight you, or trust you, and you're upset that we're saying names wrong." Then she frowned. "My question is, how could you have been Ikell before, when you worked for the Yeerks?"

"That is a good question. The simple answer is that I ran away." She smiled faintly. "Actually, in detail, I requested permission from the Visser to go down to the planet to get an idea of the world. He agreed, and I was sent to an outlying sight, but landed in a different area entirely. I broke into the database of a local orphanage, and switched my assumed name with that of a girl meant to be fostered. I shot her with a Dracon beam and locked her in my shuttle with enough nourishment for a week and access to all but the more dangerous systems, such as weapons. I took her place for less than that week, returned to my shuttle, shot the girl again and returned her to the orphanage, returned the computer records to normal and erased all records of my temporary existence, and, finally, returned with a good report for my Visser."

She turned to her other side, where Jake sat, his tail twitching. "Forgive me," she said. "It was unfortunate that I could not make our appointment, Jake."

CHAPTER 18

Jake didn't deny who he was. No one did.

No one knew quite what to say.

"The orbai exist in this age only by their rumors," Ikell said. Her tail swished lazily behind her. The offhand movement was made deadly by her three-foot-long tailblade. "Only what few Bayetai the Yeerks have not tired of, and those creatures assigned to the project which created me, remember what their original believed appearance was. And none quite know what they were mentally capable of. Thought-speech, as the simplest form of higher mental capabilities, is the only one agreed upon. Over time, the rumor of this ability became blown into a form that encompassed all thought."

So what? Marco muttered to the rest of us. What does she do, Tobias, talk you to death? Is that the great power of the othyb?

She looked at him. Her pupils visibly shrank down to stare right at him. "So," she said, her voice carrying an unignorable snarl, "as with the ability to change I have the ability to hear you whether you mean me to hear you or not. I can hear thoughts directed toward me." She looked at Cassie. "Yes, that is what I meant."

What is what you meant? I asked. Like Marco, I was getting kind of annoyed at how much Ikell talked.

"When I slept over Cassie's house in shifted form, with Casey and Rachel, I told them that, over the course of my life, I had learned to listen." Her eyes lost their momentary focus, becoming even less directed, as if she was staring at something we could never hope to see. "When I was small, I remember the voices, the echoes, the presences. I remember... the ghosts that visited me, the hopes and desires and nightmares and fears that I could see and touch and warp to my whim. But I did not understand what it meant. Those I attempted to communicate with that were not othyb, Hork-Bajir, or Bayetai, ignored me. Hork-Bajir would stare dumbly around them, confused. Othyb were always discomforted, hearing me but not understanding what they were hearing. We were all young children, then, after all. And the only Bayetai I spoke to was my father. He alone kept me from losing my abilities completely through disuse."

She bowed her head for a moment, then looked at each of us one at a time, as if she wasn't sure she could trust us, or wasn't sure we'd understand.

It felt as if someone had dumped icewater on me.

Sarah used to do the same thing.

"All I've left is thought-speak that can only be heard by those I share blood with, and the ability to hear all thought-speak along with conscious thoughts. It is an empathy, almost - unless it is directed toward me, I do not hear the exact thought, just...." She growled softly, a confused sound, like she wasn't sure what she wanted to say. "I receive a vague idea of what others are thinking. For example, I know each of your names, what each of you are, from your battle with your host body's minds." She pointed at each of us as she spoke our names. "Marco, Cassie, Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill, Rachel, Tobias, Jake." She used our last names, too - that is, everyone's last name except Ax's - but I won't print them here. "You call yourselves Animorphs. Rachel does not trust me - she looks for my weaknesses, believes me to be brittle because I am not built as heavily as she is in her host form. She is wrong - my bones are denser than they appear. Marco also evaluates me as an opponent - what sort of attacks I might be able to do with each of my talons, how fast my tail may be, what my most vulnerable spot is. And no, it is not my throat - my spines, mane, and plates protect there. It is right in the center between my horns. Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill also considers me from the view of one threatened - he considers how his tailblade may stand up against mine, how fast my reflexes are compared to his own. Your tail is faster, aristh, and you are trained in use of yours while mine is strictly instinct, but in short range I am faster than you. Two feet make for better agility when you know how to use them. Tobias evaluates me from both a predator's and an artist's view - efficiency, design, balance, combining function, beauty, and power. You flatter me, bird." She smiled faintly before continuing. "Cassie is confused and afraid, but she is evaluating what she sees in me - my own confusion, my own distraction, caused by my two bloods, and tries to weigh my sincerity. In truth, I was never taught to lie: I learned to on my own quite recently. And Jake considers me from all standpoints - as enemy and ally, foe, acquaintance, and possible friend. You think too much, Jake. I have the same goal as you, but from another standpoint. I wish to defeat the Yeerks as well. I owe them for creating me."

Ikell suddenly seemed to transform. She didn't, physically - it was her entire... aura, for the lack of a better term. She had seemed straight-forward and open, but suddenly... the shadows that swirled in her greenish-gold eyes darkened so that her eyes looked like molten bronze. That was the only truly visible change. The shadows seemed to surround her, choking the air with electricity and poison.

"I owe them," she repeated, her voice not so much a voice as a bitter snarl of hatred. "They created me.... and I will make them regret it." She snarled wordlessly. "I owe them my life, but that is a debt long paid. Now they shall pay instead, for what I have experienced in a life I never asked for."

Ax looked confused. How can you ask for life?

Ikell looked at him. "You can't," she said finally, her voice becoming more voice-like and less like a hideous parody of one. "You must take the one given you. But mine... I would not wish my experiences on the Yeerks. I only ask that they pay for what they did. They need to take responsibility for creating me. I will make them regret what they have done as much as I do."

"How can you regret living so much?" Cassie asked, her expression sympathetic.

Ikell turned to look at her... and her neutral expression became a glare. "You ask that of one who has blindly served your enemy all her life," she snapped. "Stop pitying me!" she snarled suddenly, baring her teeth. "I cannot stand that!"

Jake stood, and, moving with the calm grace of the tiger, placed himself between Cassie and Ikell. One wrong move, he said in a deadpan voice, and Marco will bash you right in the middle of the space between your horns.

Ikell stood up straight. Her shoulders up disappeared into the tree branches. The only part of her you could see at that level was her hair: everything else was camouflaged. Even her yellow stomach plates blended into the leaves. "That is unnecessary," she answered him coldly. "I mean no harm to you. Our goals are alike. But I cannot stand pity. It..." She snorted. "I cannot stand it. Pity is meant for the weak or the dying, not for one who is as she is because of herself. Not one who can be proud of what she has made of a worthless life. One who can pretend that she might make a difference against something who knows her as well as she does it and outnumbers her billions to one."

Optimistic, aren't we? Marco quipped.

Ikell glared at him. "Only on rare occasions," she said. Her tone could only be described as sarcastic. "I am optimistic that if I were to kill Arctesch I would not live long to regret it."

I claim Arctesch's life for Sarah's, Ax said, stepping forward. He walked right up to Ikell, his tail arched up high. It is my right.

Ikell turned to face him. She didn't just turn her head; she turned entirely around. "It is not your right to steal that claim from one who has a greater claim," she replied. "Yours is to revenge a death, and that is honorable, Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill. But mine is far more than a single death. I am the one who has allowed Arctesch to become as he is. It is my responsibility to correct my mistake in allowing him to become what he is. It is also a matter of family honor: Arctesch is my brother, and is it not my duty to see that he follows the codes set by our peoples? And is it not my duty to keep my family safe? He is the reason Nrintai is dead, the reason she killed so many of her daughters, the reason Nri Elka must now live without her mother. He has killed thousands, if not millions, of people, because unlike a Yeerk he does not care about hosts. All he cares about is impossible fantasies of othyb being a self-supporting race. As my brother and my own abomination, Arctesch is my responsibility. If you have the chance and I have not, you have the right to avenge your shorm, aristh Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill, but if I have any chance you must demure to my greater responsibility - to avenge my family, retain my family honor, and correct my own fatal flaw."

He stared at her. You know much of Andalite law.

"I am of the Yeerk Empire yet not a Controller, and I have been Visser Three's Grer," Ikell replied. "I learn quickly. It has saved my worthless hide on many fronts."

You really ought to do something about that self-esteem problem. Marco, of course.

"Self.... esteem." Ikell turned her head slowly in his direction. "Is it unnatural to have a difficulty with what one has no concept of?" She scowled, the corner of her mouth curling upward in a soundless snarl. "I was a byproduct of an experiment doomed to failure, shunned as a worthless slave that could not be infested. I was an othyb - a thing. A mistake that wasted space and consumed food meant for Controllers and excreted waste that took up even more space. I proved valuable as a teachable machine - when I was equivalent to a six-year-old I was fixing repairs. I proved myself as a mindless engineer who did as it was told. Later I was put in charge of regulating high-energy field systems, like temporary force fields. I made mistakes: I wasn't a machine. One of those mistakes cost my sister her life. Another cost that of a Taxxon standing just beside me." A shadow seemed to pass over her face, then was gone. "Those mistakes led the Yeerks to believe I was doing it on purpose, so they trained me as a soldier. From being a soldier I became an assassin. From an assassin I became a mysterious agent of the Yeerks whose very name made grown Andalite warriors shudder. My entire existence was based on two things - the ability to learn, and the inability to care. Now I have lost one of those abilities, am forced to learn its opposite, and I must fend for myself in a new way - on my own."

We were quiet for awhile. All of us stared at Ikell, who seemed to be staring back at all of us, even me and Cassie, who stood nearly behind her.

I still say you talk too much, Marco muttered.

Ikell looked toward him, so I could see her profile. Slowly, the corner of her mouth turned upward in a soft expression. "I need the practice," she replied.

It was right about then that Erek showed up.

CHAPTER 19

Erek's eyes fastened on Ikell. "What is this?" he muttered coldly.

"This is Jrikvelh," I told him. "The othyb who tried to save Sarah."

"And failed," he added bitterly. His glare was dangerous. I looked away: it was the glare of something angry. Something bitter.

Why was Erek so angry?

"I ask no forgiveness for what transpired," Ikell said quietly.

"Then you accept no responsibility?"

Ikell's face remained relatively expressionless. "I accept that I spared Tobias' life, and that I played a part in saving the lives of those who stand around me, save for yourself. Were it not for me, no one would be in this clearing. Six of us would be dead. I would be back on the mothership. Perhaps you would, shek, but you would be alone."

Shek? Marco echoed.

"A word of Bayetai origin," Ikell replied. "A word meaning, 'creature that isn't'. A word reserved for life of an unbiological nature." Her eyes narrowed at Erek. "You are dead."

"Not dead," he replied just as coldly. "Never alive, so how could I be dead?"

"What's wrong, Erek?" Cassie asked him.

"It's Mia," he said softly. "She's losing it."

I remembered how upset she had been about Sarah's death. Mia had taken all responsibility for Sarah onto her own shoulders, even though Sarah hadn't in any way asked her to. "She's still blaming herself?"

Erek looked at me. "I know Mia, Tobias. She never will accept anything else as true."

"Do you wish me to take that blame?" Ikell asked him. "I doubt one so bereaved would allow me to do such a thing."

Is Mia's grief affecting the entire Chee-Net, Erek? Marco asked. You seem kind of bitter yourself.

"Mia is my friend: she has been for over two thousand years. We've grown up and grown old together longer than you can imagine. We've pretended to be married several times. Chee-Myani is one of the kindest people I know. No, her grief isn't upsetting all the Chee - just those that are close to her. Like Veedric. Like me. But none of us can reach her." He sighed, his shoulders slumping, then looked off into the woods. "She hasn't left Sarah's room since we watched Sarah's will. She just sits there, or stands there... she just stays there, watching the will, over and over. Over and over. And over and over some more. I suggested she speak with David, get his feelings on her death, but Mia isn't listening to anyone but Sarah. She blew up at Veedric when he went to put some of Sarah's stuff back in storage. The only reason Veedric is still in one piece is because of our programming." That was startling: Mia isn't by nature a violent person. She's gentle, caring, friendly, and extremely generous, but not dangerous. Never dangerous.

"That doesn't sound like Mia," Cassie said, saying what I was thinking out loud.

"So you wish me to take this blame?" Ikell said again. "That is still unclear, shek. Even if I offered myself in that manner I doubt I would be very welcome."

"It would be worthless," Erek agreed. "It doesn't mean I wish it wasn't."

"I would gladly accept the blame if another suffers for taking it upon themself," Ikell said. "But there is no blame in this. Arctesch is as he is. The Yeerks did not plan for him to be as he is. Nor did he, nor did I, nor did anyone else."

"Guilt is a hard thing to live with," Erek said. "Especially when you can't die."

"Guilt is a parasite that lives off of failure," Ikell retorted. "I do not allow it within me. Failure is not the end of everything. It is merely a delay."

"Wouldn't you feel guilty if Nri Elka died?" I asked Ikell bluntly. She glared at me. "If I hadn't been like I am, if I had been different... if I had killed Nri Elka... you wouldn't feel guilty?"

"I was not wrong."

"But if you had been?"

Ikell's frown deepened. "I was not."

What part of 'theoretically' is over your head? Marco snapped.

"The point of it," Ikell replied. "What is the purpose of supposing what wasn't?"

"No why," I said. Ikell looked at me, her glare gone. "You're still running without 'why'. Things only have one purpose, right? You still haven't gotten the hang of 'why'."

Why what? Rachel demanded.

"It eludes me," Ikell admitted. "Between ordered commands and instinctive survival, there is little room for personal initiative. Or purposeless theory."

"The whole idea of 'why'," I explained to the others. "The whole concept of it. Ask your morphs 'why' something. Anything. Why is the grass green? Why is it chilly? Why is Erek mad? Do they have anything to say on that?"

These morphs don't talk, Tobias, Marco pointed out.

"I know that. But try. Try asking them why the grass is green, go ahead. Do they answer? No, of course not. But do they even understand what you're talking about?"

There was quiet for a moment. No, Jake replied.

Nope, Rachel agreed.

Marco took another moment to think. I'm being ignored by my morph. Big Jim doesn't care why the grass is green. It just is, and that's fine by him.

"Exactly," I said. "If you don't understand the concept of 'why' then there's no reason behind anything. Things just are as they are because they are. There's no theory. There's no thinking. Everything just is, and if it's wrong, well, then it's wrong and should be avoided. Oh well."

How do you know all this, Tobias? Marco asked.

"Comes with hunting for my own lunch, I guess."

Erek sighed. "I didn't just come here to tell you that Mia's short-circuited half her programming," he said in a tired voice. "There's more dire news. Visser Three has finally given Sub-Visser Nineteen a specific mission. Shockingly enough, Sub-Visser Nineteen was quite agreeable."

What do you mean, 'shockingly enough'? Marco demanded.

"Visser Three and Sub-Visser Nineteen have decidedly different goals," Ikell said softly. "Visser Three had become tired with cat-and-mouse and chose to bring the othyb to the human homeworld in order to eradicate the Andalites, abandoning any plans of capture." She looked in Erek's direction. "I assume this has to do with me."

Erek nodded. "It has everything to do with you. Sub-Visser Nineteen reported that, in your first operation - one which should have ended with several dead Andalites - you and he had a 'slight disagreement' and, to avoid further conflict, you went to aide Grer Two. However, Grer Two reports that you did not arrive before he was overcome by an organized attack of at least six Andalites."

Ikell frowned. "Juvrenz is as little schooled in lying as I," she murmured in a disturbed voice. "He only knows what he taught to me - the manipulation of facts. By saying 'at least' he does not say that six is exactly what he saw. But I know him. If he said 'at least six', it means he saw all six of you." Her frown deepened. "He has a tendency of pushing that unpredictable luck of his. Considering Rachel was not morphed at the time he saw her, things could become difficult if he pushes his superiors' patiences too often." She paused slightly. "You all have been in morph for quite some time."

Twenty-four minutes remain, Ax confirmed.

Erek briefed us as we demorphed. It was an awkward thing: after all, we were demorphing in front of the thing that had chosen one of us to die. Of course, in the same respect, we were demorphing in front of something that had spared one of our lives - my life. It wasn't surprising that I was the most willing to demorph. Of course, since Ikell knew everything of importance about us, it was little more than overcoming the dread we all felt at having ourselves so exposed. "Visser Three has ordered Sub-Visser Nineteen to run a low-altitude sweep of the region to search out any sign of Grer Seven. Considering the unique qualities of othyb DNA, it is easy to be specific in trying to search out specific patterns."

"Each of us are unique to ourselves," Ikell agreed. "Searching for me is like searching for a pencil in a hay stack. Same general qualities, but quite different."

"You have such a way with human colloquiums," Marco said. "I mean, 'cat-and-mouse', 'pushing his luck', 'pencil in a haystack'... what else have you got in that dragon-head of yours?"

"I made the study of the language you call 'English' a high priority," Ikell replied in her lilting, growlish accent. "I dislike translators. I speak without one now, and understand you without one as well." She smiled her vague smile. "I am one of few who can understand Taxxon."

"Swell," Marco muttered.

"This provides us the perfect opportunity to strike the core of this," Ikell said in the colder, more growlish voice, the one that sounded more like a growl and less like a voice. "We get aboard Arctesch's ship, we take it down."

"There's no way we're getting aboard a bladeship," Marco said, shaking his head. "I mean, hey, stealing Bug fighters is one thing. The bladeship of a Visser - or even a good Sub-Visser - has to be loaded with those bio-filter things that destroy all trespassers. If they can afford to put one at every Yeerk pool entrance, why not all over every bladeship?"

"I know Arctesch is lacking in some of those filters," Ikell replied darkly. "He is not as paranoid of biological intruders in his ship. In fact, one has made a permanent home there." The corners of her mouth turned up, but not in that vague smile she has. When she uses the vague smile, the ridges over her eyes curve in a soft way, easing the lines of her face. Just then, the ridges were pulled low over her eyes. It was a dangerous look, resembling the one of those velociraptors from Jurassic Park. The cold, emotionless smile that bordered on an equally feral sneer.

"What are you talking about?" Rachel demanded.

"Rather than use shipments from the supply ships that scoop air and water from your planet, Arctesch prefers supplying his ship himself. Every six days he takes his bladeship down to the planet to resupply. He can afford to, since we are in orbit. Arctesch trusts the Visser about as much as the Visser trusts him, subtracted from the amount that the Visser trusts you."

"That's a pretty low number," Jake agreed.

"That's an extremely negative number," Marco embellished.

Ikell nodded slightly. "In that time, certain... creatures... managed to get aboard. Many were used as extra food rations, but one in particular Arctesch took a liking to. Something about its resourcefulness appealed to him, so that he has allowed a small colony to flourish aboard the ship."

"What would go aboard a bladeship and be allowed to stay?" Jake asked.

"Couldn't be something destructive," Cassie said. "And, considering how short a time the othyb have been here, it has to be something that breeds quickly. Moths?"

Ikell swung her head from side to side. It didn't really look like she was shaking her head "no": it looked more like she was looking back and forth at something near her feet, but with her eyes closed. It was easy to doubt that the movement was natural for her. "Not so harmless as that," she said. "Arctesch appreciates cunning over compatibility. He is willing to put up with some extra repairs if it means having something to amuse him. If it is one thing that upsets Arctesch, it is to be bored."

"So what is it?" Rachel asked impatiently.

Ikell smiled that dangerous, sneering smile.

"Mice," she replied.

We were quiet for a moment.

"Mice?" Marco repeated skeptically. "What could Artics, or whatever, find so interesting about mice?"

"Their adaptability," Ikell explained. "Mice are able to survive in a great variety of environments and withstand outrageous pressures. In spite of being among the most hunted creatures of this world they remain one of the most numerous. They breed quickly enough to overcome any sort of long-term check, and adapt quickly in order to deal with short-term ones - much like humans." She chuckled slightly at that. We did our best not to look offended. Ax looked thoughtful, but I think he knew enough not to agree. That would have been impolite, and when he can Ax tries not to be rude. "Arctesch has no spite for your race. Or Andalites. Or any race, for that matter. My brother respects intelligence, adaptability, and strength in all its forms. He was sincere when he said he regretted that your comrade had to die. But Arctesch is a twisted creature: no matter how well he means, he shall always be illogical and disillusioned, making him a danger - to everyone." She sort of sneered. "Of course, he despises insects as much as he adores intelligence. So there is no possibility of an insect getting aboard his ship and surviving, because he would kill anyone who did not kill the bug before he saw it."

"There goes cockroaches," Cassie said. "Or flies."

"How little time do we have to prepare this time, Erek?" Marco asked.

"Little is right," Erek said.

"Arctesch's bladeship is due for its next restockment in two hours," Ikell said.

"One hour and forty-eight minutes, to be exact," Erek embellished. I wished he hadn't. "I know it's short notice."

"Like heck it is!" Marco fumed. "Ax and I have mice morphs, but how are Jake, Cassie, Rachel, and Tobias going to get rodent morphs in two hours?"

I already have one, I said. He glanced at me, but didn't comment. But Marco's right. It can take me all day to catch a mouse. Much less catch one without killing it.

"Dad doesn't exactly treat mice," Cassie said. "A couple squirrels are as close as we have right now, and that isn't going to help much."

"I have the rat morph," Rachel said. "Is that close enough?"

"For your purposes," Erek assured her. "Officers under Sub-Visser Nineteen are under orders not to kill rodents found aboard that are not causing harm. If a rat or two shows up among the mice, I'm sure they're not going to chance appearing to defy orders by pointing it out, much less actually defying orders by doing anything about it."

"That's awfully convenient - for those of us with the morphs, anyway," Jake pointed out. "If Cassie and I can't get a morph in time, then it's you four."

"I have it," Cassie said. "But I can't go. Family function - my dad got us this reservation to this restaurant months ago..." She sighed. "So it's still four."

"Five," Ikell corrected. "I have no need for a morph. I may simply walk aboard."

Jake closed his eyes for just a moment longer than a blink. The others probably wouldn't notice it, but it was there. "Five, then," he said. "But neither Ax nor Ikell can be in charge. You guys have too much going into this. Or Rachel. Sorry, cuz, but I know you. You're about as wound up about Sarah dying as Ax. We need someone who can deal."

"So Birdman's in charge again?" Marco concluded. I wondered why he was so sure he wasn't the one leading. After all, it was him or me. I wondered what his reasons were.

"You up to it, Tobias?" Jake asked me.

I thought about the last two months. I thought about the times when, twice a week, Sarah would come

with a bestseller and sit under my favorite tree, and we'd read together - a stupid-sounding way to spend

a day, but it's not like I can go to the local library. It was one of the highlights of the week; I always waited impatiently for her to show, then acted like I'd forgotten she was coming. She knew, but she didn't let on. It was a game, sort of. Who could act like they cared less about something we both enjoyed doing.

I thought about her dry cynicism and quick common sense, traits I had admired in her. I thought about how much she had meant to Ax, my best friend and, in a complicated way, my only family. But I had watched as she died because of a stupid promise to a crazed freak of nature.

I had a stake in this, too.

A friend of mine was dead, and not me.

You can count on me, I replied, not sure if it was true.

CHAPTER 20

Like Marco, Cassie, Rachel, and Ax, I had a rodent morph.

A mouse, to be exact. The DNA was from a mouse that I had managed to catch without quite killing it. I figured that, since I had it, I might as well acquire it, and did. There was no reason to tell anyone I'd done it before now, really. So what? I had a mouse morph. Whoopee. Like I'm going to brag about the things I acquired before eating them.

Unlike Marco, Cassie, Rachel, and Ax, however, I had never really taken the time to use it.

The first thing that came on me was fur. That was strange, because I still had my feathers. In moments, I went from a red-tailed hawk to a red-tailed puffball of feathers and fur.

"I hate to tell you, but you are adorable, Tobias," Marco joked, even as his ears flared out into satellite dishes.

"Jealous, Marco?" Rachel teased him as whiskers began sprouting from her cheeks.

My feathers began thinning out as my talons began to gain muscles. The bones in my wings made grinding sounds as the vestigial bones that remained from when the ancestors of red-tailed hawks had fingers grew longer even as the bones that remained shrunk. Shrinking kicked in all around about then, and I found myself falling, but not too quickly. My tailfeathers began melting away as a thick, muscular tail began to take its place. My beak extended out ahead of my face, gaining the shape of a muzzle before its texture changed, so that for a few moments I couldn't move my muzzle-like beak because the joining was wrong. Lobes suddenly ballooned out of nowhere around my ears, and my vision dropped so suddenly that for a scary moment I thought I was blind. But no - mouse vision is vastly different from hawk vision. Hawks are meant to see miles: mice are more interested in millimeters. I'm not saying that the mouse had bad eyes: it was just that range was extremely limited. It wasn't that I was near-sighted: it was that I, literally, could not see very far in any direction, because I was too small. Plain and simple.

The last of my feathers disappeared as my tiny little claws grew in. My whiskers reached full length, and my forelegs finally lost their wing-formation and lined up correctly with the rest of me.

PREDATORS!

I've known the fear of prey. I hunt them. I've been a cockroach in direct sunlight. I know what it's like for prey to be scared, because I've had that fear and I've created that fear.

But I had never experienced fear like this.

It was like someone had poured all the Pepsi, coffee, and Surge in the world into a blender, mixed it well with eighteen aerobics videos and twelve billion horror flicks, and poured the entire mixture into a little body that was maybe three inches long, if you didn't count the tail.

I was ultra-saturated, energized fear, like the Energizer bunny would feel if he was schizophrenic.

The four of us ran around for a little while, trying to gain control of the absolute fear of being, as Ikell had put it, on the bottom of so many food chains. I ran over something green like grass whose smell was foreign, not extremely pungent, and not at all appetizing.

My human mind kicked in. I might not know the smell, it might not smell like food, but I knew what had three green toes with really big claws!

Hork-Bajir!

No, my memory told me. The smell was different. Deeper, somehow. Although not as strong, it was... spicier. Sort of like, but not really close to, the smell of horseradish. And maybe just a little like brand-new leather. And something else, stronger... mint? No, that was the growing underneath the foot. She was standing in a patch of mint that smelled a lot tastier than she did.

Far above me - at least ten feet, six inches above my inch-high vantage point - Ikell was probably watching the four of us make fools of ourselves. I managed to freeze on her foot. I heard her grunt. "You are not going to travel aboard on my foot, Tobias," she chided me. "Calm the others. We waste time."

Guys - chill, I told the others in as soothing a voice as I could. Knock it off.

I forgot how jittery these things are! Marco exclaimed.

It had slipped my mind how powerful the fear of these creatures can be, Ax agreed.

Let's just go already, Rachel grumbled, probably annoyed at herself for falling for the same pitfall the rest of us had. Tick-tock, fellas. We got a schedule to keep.

Want to see an Animorph move?

Just say, "tick-tock". Works every time.

It was hard to follow the quick plan: get as close to the bladeship as was comfortably possible, then follow Ikell to it and look for an entrance, and hope we didn't get trapped in morph. The reason why it was so hard when we had just started the easy part was because Ikell is eleven feet tall. Michael Jordan would maybe come to her waist. Jake, the tallest of us, doesn't come to where her crotch would be - or maybe is, but thanks to the plates that go down her stomach, between her legs, and down her tail, it's invisible. Nri Elka doesn't come to her knee. And we were three mice with tiny legs and one rat with legs at least twice as long as us mice were tall, but just as useless at trying to keep up with legs over fifty times taller than we were. In reality, Ikell was probably tiptoeing; to us, it was a scavenger hunt to find where her foot had disappeared to.

This is not working, Ax pointed out after Ikell had gone four steps.

It's taking too long to find your feet! Rachel complained.

Ikell growled softly. It sent shivers down my tiny mouse spine. Something huge crashed into the ground a few inches from me. "Each of you, climb upon my tailblade," she muttered. "I will carry you as far as I can without being spotted. When I turn it sideways, however, you must get off."

Deal! Marco agreed. Man, that was getting tiring.

We haven't even gotten to the bladeship yet, Marco, Rachel chided him.

Which is why I am thankful for anything that makes this suicide mission easier, Marco replied.

One by one, we climbed aboard the huge thing - really, Ikell's tailblade, turned sideways so that we sat on the flatish side. Rachel settled closest to the base, where it was wider, while Marco, Ax, and I crowded on closer to where the thorn-like second point grew. When Ikell started walking again, this time at her usual, extra-long stride, her tail began to swing back and forth to give her balance. Unfortunately, what gave her balance made it hard for us to balance.

This is ridiculous! Marco cried.

This is awesome! Rachel replied.

So says Xena, Marco retorted, who happens to weigh five times what we do at the moment.

Keep a good grip on the etches in the blade, I suggested, digging my little claws into a tiny crevice in Ikell's tailblade. What looked bone-smooth from human-size was surprisingly pitted and scarred from a mouse's point of view. What made the mouse uncomfortable wasn't the motion of the tail or the need for a death grip on what probably was nothing more than a faint scratch in the tailblade: it was that the tailblade carried the faintest scent of blood. The mouse wanted both nothing to do with the smell of blood, and everything to do with it. Blood meant a kill and a kill meant several things: if it was fresh, there were predators about. If it wasn't, then it was the source of a good all-you-can-eat maggot buffet.

I was not entirely enjoying being a mouse.

Of course, there was also the added stress of knowing what I was. I mean, morphing a mouse, to me, was the same as any of the others morphing a hamburger. Not a cow about to be turned into a hamburger (which I've done), but an actual hamburger. I was my normal lunch.

Always a pleasant thought.

Suddenly, Ikell turned her tailblade right side up. Since it was sideways, it was like turning it "sideways" to those of us perched on it, so there was only two possible reasons why I was suddenly eating dirt - Ikell needed her tailblade, or we were as close to the bladeship as we were going to get.

"Jrikvelh!"

The shout came as if from no where. It was loud and powerful and burst into my ears with the strength of a sonic boom.

The ground shook. Stopped. Shook again. Stopped.

Footsteps.

Really fast, really heavy, footsteps.

It's him! Rachel snarled. Not far away, she bared her teeth. It's Artics!

I thought it was an earthquake! Marco yelled, trying to keep hold of the ground as it shook again.

Ax was silent. I saw him, a few inches away, staring upward. I looked in the same direction... at a twin pair of moving mountains of nearly black green that disappeared into the sky.

Arctesch's legs.

(Actually, to be more specific, it was probably only Arctesch's feet.)

Take it easy, Ax, I said, just to him.

By honor, I should demorph and destroy him, Ax replied.

Not now, Ax. This is Ikell's time. I cared about Sarah too.

Do not try to understand, Tobias! Ax snapped. He paused a moment, then continued, calmer, Do not try to understand, Tobias. I am sorry, but you cannot.

I know, Ax. But facts are facts. Not only does Ikell have first dibs, but she's kind of got a better chance of doing something at the moment. Besides, his crew can't be far away. This simply isn't the time.

Honor doesn't require time, Ax replied. It requires dedication.

That's not honor, Ax, I told him. That's revenge. Revenge doesn't wait for the best opportunity. It strikes as fast as it can, and usually takes the one seeking it with it. Don't do this for revenge, Ax, or I'm going to have to make sure you don't get aboard that ship.

Tobias!

Sorry, Ax-man, but if you're doing this for revenge, then you're out. Would Sarah want you vengeful?

Do not ask me that. Ever again. Do not ask what Sarah would want - I know, Tobias. I know far better than you what she would want.

So what would she want?

There was a definite pause that made me uneasy. She would want me aboard that bladeship, he said, avoiding a real answer.

Great.

I looked up at Arctesch and Ikell. They were talking, in Galard again, I think. Ikell was explaining her absence, probably. That was the plan. She'd say she felt like exploring some more and, seeing the other Andalites escape, tried to follow and failed. She bided her time until now because she wanted Arctesch, not Visser Three, to retrieve her. Arctesch could convince the Visser that Ikell had just gotten lost.

Ikell had explained that that would be what she said.

I really hoped that was what she was really saying. After all, that story was a half-lie. Ikell had learned about lying: there was no telling if she had lied to us.

Ax, we need a translation, I said, so the others could hear.

Jrikvelh is following the plan, Ax replied, his tone dull, disinterested. She has just asked that he find a way to convince the Visser that her disappearance was unintentional. There was a rumble that I guessed was Arctesch laughing. Arctesch has agreed to convince the Visser that Jrikvelh is a fool as well as insane. The two othyb began to walk away.

Follow by scent, I said.

Yessir, Marco replied crisply. Y'know, Tobias, you're reminding me of Jake today. Can't think of why.

I chuckled. Keep focused, Marco.

Why? Why should I focus on the fact that we're yummy-looking mice following two Godzillas we can't even see to our imminent demises? I'd rather focus on the fact that Bird-boy is acting like our wonderful and witless leader.

When this is over, I'll be sure to pass on the compliment, I told him.

You do that.

We probably made an odd invasion force: three mice, two of them identical, and a bulky rat. It made me think of cartoons. You know, a leader, a pair of twins, and a mountain of muscle? Doesn't that sound like some cartoon action team? Ratamorphs. Or maybe Animice. I wasn't sure which was better.

The four of us scurried, as fast as we could, after the othyb, but keeping up was obviously impossible. Besides, that wasn't the plan. The plan was to go as fast as we could, without being seen, and hope Arctesch left the loading ramp down so we could get on.

If we were late, that wasn't an option. I really hoped everything was going on schedule.

Too many "ifs". Way too many "ifs". The amount of little things that could totally screw this plan up was huge, bigger than the problems that would be caused if one big thing went wrong. Like if this was a trap.

Who cared if this was a trap? We had to worry about if the loading ramp was open or not. Or if we got spotted chasing Sub-Visser Nineteen and Grer Seven. Or if we lost the Sub-Visser's scent, which was much stronger, and therefore much easier to follow, than Ikell's. Or if we started following an old trail left by Arctesch walking around and got totally lost.

Are we there yet? Marco whined in his best six-year-old's voice.

Man, you guys have crummy eyes, Rachel said. We have about two yards until there's a black wall that extends forever in both directions. There's a ramp coming out of it. A person just stepped off- oh, jeez, scatter! Now!

I jumped at her sudden shout, and, on mouse instinct, scrambled forward. Ax went forward, too, and Marco went right. I couldn't see Rachel because she'd been bringing up the rear.

A foot landed on my tail. "Pest," I heard someone say. "I'd squash you if it weren't for that stupid othyb Sub-Visser. Just you wait." Their voice turned into a sneer. "One of these days I'm going to put poison out for you. See how long you vermin last then." The person ground my tail into the ground with their heel, then continued walking.

You okay, Tobias? I heard Marco ask.

Yeah, I replied. My tail screamed in agony. Guess Arctesch's orders extend passed the bounds of the bladeship. I'm still alive. Let's get aboard.

We scrambled up the ramp, keeping to the side to avoid anyone who might be using it. Ax, Marco, and I went first, then Rachel went up a few moments later, on the opposite side of the ramp, so we didn't look like a group. We got back together in the first turn-off corridor from the entrance.

Back aboard a bladeship, Marco said. Why do I not like that idea?

It smells different in here, Rachel said, standing on her hind legs. Almost... homey.

That's the rat talking, Marco said.

I scented the air. No... not really, I said. I smell vanilla.

Don't be.... hey, you're right! Marco mimicked Rachel's upright position, waving his snout in the air. Vanilla and peppermint. And horseradish.

That horseradish smell is probably Arctesch, I said.

Humans smell like an Andalite something-or-other, while othyb get to smell like horseradish? Marco muttered. Does that seem fair?

You want to smell like horseradish? I asked.

No... I don't want to smell like an Andalite something-or-other.

It is not an offensive smell, Ax assured Marco.

Well, Arctesch's horseradish-smell is everywhere, Rachel pointed out. How are we supposed to keep following him if we don't know which way he went?

Wait a minute.

Follow the peppermint! I said, sniffing the air.

The peppermint? Marco echoed. Hey, Tobias, if you're going off the deep end, give us a little warning, okay?

When we first morphed, when we were getting control of the rodent instincts, I ran on Ikell's foot. I started down the corridor we'd gone into. I noticed that she doesn't have a very strong smell. But she was standing in something that did. She was standing in mint.

Mint? Rachel echoed.

It grows around here, I replied. You don't really smell it unless you crush the leaves. She must have crushed some while standing on them.

So the mint smell is from Ikell... but where's the vanilla coming from? Marco asked as he came up beside me. At least, I was pretty sure it was him, not Ax. After all, they were morphed as the same mouse. Has Artics taken a liking to air fresheners, too?

It is not vanilla, Ax said. It is Kanver.

The Hork-Bajir tree?

Yes. I believe the walls are paneled in Kanver wood.

How can you tell?

I looked at the walls.

I looked. Yes, there was wood paneling.

Beverly Hills bladeship, Marco said, doing his best to sound impressed. Sub-Visser Nineteen knows how to really live.

We turned down another corridor, then took a quick turn into a third. The mint smell was getting stronger. You know, I've been thinking, Marco said. Why are we doing this, exactly? We planned to get on the bladeship. We're on. We planned to catch Arctesch alone. We're working on that. But why? Why are we risking four of us to kill one crazy alien?

Honor, Ax replied.

I remembered what I had said to Ax. That's not honor. That's revenge.

It struck me quite hard.

This entire mission... was about revenge.

Jake had agreed to it. Cassie would have helped if she hadn't had something to do.... or had she? Had she weaseled out on something she knew she couldn't do? Ax and Rachel were the most willing to fight. Even Erek had wanted to see this through.

We were risking ourselves for revenge.

You know, Ax, I'd rather live to fight another day than risk myself for honor, Marco told him.

Better honor than revenge, I said as coolly as I could.

This isn't about revenge! Rachel snapped. Yes, Sub-Visser Nineteen killed Sarah, but how many Andalites did he kill, too? Hundreds? Thousands? How many innocent lives has he taken? Think about all of Nri Elka's sisters! This guy has to go down.

I listened as the others argued, but the fact remained.

This was entirely revenge.

At least, it was for me. No matter how hard I tried, I wasn't able to convince myself it was otherwise.

CHAPTER 21

We slipped through a doorway. We'd thought it was a wall, but it slid aside at our approach, which was a relief. It was kind of unnerving to think that Ikell had walked through a wall.

The room was small, but high. It had to be high, considering Arctesch neared fifteen feet tall, and he carried his wings even higher than he carried his head. With his wings, Arctesch was close to twenty feet tall. And that was with them folded behind him. That wasn't with the fifteen-foot tall monster having the wings big enough to fly with spread wide.

I couldn't tell how tall it was, but I was pretty sure Arctesch wouldn't have a bladeship he couldn't walk around comfortably in.

There was a table in the middle. Actually, to be more accurate, there were two tables, one on top of the other, so that the "tabletop" was actually six feet off the floor instead of three, but there was still only three feet of clearance under the table. Three figures stood around the stacked tables - two had three toes of different shades - one medium green, one paler - while the third pair had one less toe each, and was shaded a nearly-black green.

We've walked into an othyb convention, Marco muttered as we took cover underneath the table next to where Ikell had her tailblade rested against the floor. Not far away, a shorter tailblade, one about the size of Ax's, swung back and forth just above the floor. I couldn't see Arctesch's, but then, I didn't want to.

The short tailblade must be Juvrenz's, I said.

Yeah, Rachel agreed. But what are they doing?

They are discussing what to tell the Visser of Ikell's disappearance, Ax replied. It seems that they have titles for each other.

Titles? Rachel echoed.

Arctesch they call 'big brother'. Ikell they call 'Jivvie'. Juvrenz they call 'little brain'.

Marco laughed. Little brain?

It can also be translated as 'child genius'. I merely translated his words using the more common forms of those words.

Child genius makes more sense, Rachel said. Juvers being younger and all.

Artics. Juvers. It was enough for even someone like me, who had nearly forgotten the concept of body language, to shake their head. I was glad we had a nickname for Ikell.

I wish they'd talk in English, Marco muttered. I feel like I'm just twiddling my thumbs waiting to become a mouse for the rest of my life. Of course, I'd need thumbs to do that, which I don't have at the moment. So mainly I'm getting a little paranoid. Or more paranoid than usual, anyway. I mean, hey! Look at me! I'm babbling! Ax, how much time do we have?

One hour, fourteen minutes.

It's only been forty-five minutes? Marco exclaimed.

Only forty-five? Rachel echoed. Obviously, she hadn't thought that much time had past.

Are they talking about anything important, Ax?

They are merely going over the fine details of Ikell's account and choosing which parts to tell to Visser Three. I believe they are trying to avoid lying by telling select portions of the truth.

Good. That should give us enough time to find someplace to demorph and remorph so we have as much time as-

The door whooshed open. The four of us cringed backwards, away from the quick human feet. "Sub-Visser, forgive the intrusion, but- ahh!" Something about three times Rachel's rat-size, something of a pale green color, fell to the floor. Something dripped to the floor, something dark red. Blood. My nose told me human blood.

"You had best be sorry, because you know how well I forgive!" Arctesch roared in that eerie, accented English he used.

The human spoke between whimpers. "We- we found this in the woods, we thought- you - you might like it!"

"Found what? What did you mess the floor with this time?"

From our view from the floor, it was very obvious what they had found.

I thought Ikell said that Nri Elka was with the Hork-Bajir! Rachel cried.

She did, Marco said. That doesn't mean she didn't escape.

Or never was with the Hork-Bajir, Rachel added darkly.

I doubt Ikell would give Nri Elka to Sub-Visser Nineteen, I said. But I wasn't sure. They had seemed on okay terms when Ikell had met him in the woods: there was no shouting, no form of bickering, just her relating her story and him believing every word of it.

But she'd lied to him, told him exactly what we'd agreed she'd say.

Never mind! I shouted at myself. There was something much more important.

Saving Nri Elka.

"What is that?" someone cried. I didn't recognize the voice, but it sounded vaguely Hork-Bajiran, only of a higher pitch, more human. "It looks like..."

"Like Gloift," Arctesch said in a softer voice. "Leave us," he told the human. "Get yourself healed - you've done well." The human hurried out. Arctesch came around the table, his big, black-green feet almost tiptoeing.

Nri Elka looked up. Her eyes went wide with fear. Her lipless mouth pulled back from her teeth. She got on all fours, into a pathetic fighting stance, tail high, wings flared. Her voice was a sharp, alley cat-like snarl.

"Big meanie!" she hissed.

CHAPTER 22

Of course.

It made sense now.

Ikell had done all she had to protect Nri Elka from Arctesch, who wanted a female othyb for his mate, and would not mate his sister. Instead, he was trying to get a niece, which didn't sit any better with me, but in his obviously warped mind, that must have somehow made some sort of sense. Somehow, she had gotten Nri Elka before Nri's mother had killed herself, which was why Ikell had Nri Elka, and Nri Elka was alive at all. Ikell was in orbit of Earth, so she decided the best place to hide Nri Elka was with the planetside resistance because, after all, the planet's pretty big, and the free Hork-Bajir are still hidden after all these months, so she only taught Nri Elka English. Even then, though, Nri isn't good at talking. She does it a lot, but she isn't perfect. And, because she only knows English - or because her mouth isn't formed correctly, or some other reason, I don't know - Nri isn't able to say Bayetajin names, which Arctesch, Jrikvelh, and Juvrenz are. She called Jrikvelh Ner and Juvrenz Juvie, but at the mention of Arctesch she merely cowered. She never talked about him.

All because she had no name for Arctesch. She knew his name, and feared it. Why? Because Ikell had taught her to be afraid of it. What else had Nri been afraid of, besides Hork-Bajir-Controllers? The "big meanie".

"Biggies". Those were Bayetai.

The "big meanie" was the Bayetajin-like creature she was afraid of - Arctesch.

Yup... somehow, it made sense. I'm just not the best at explaining things. So I'll stop trying to now.

Arctesch leaned down, far enough that his thick gray hair pooled to the floor, far enough that we could see the wonder on his face. "What is this?" he murmured in a gentle voice. "Who are you, little one?"

Above us, Ikell's tail lashed sharply, but her feet didn't move. I wished I could see her face, know if it was giving anything away. Wondering if I would have been able to tell.

Nri Elka hissed wordlessly.

"I think you should be careful, brother dearest," the Hork-Bajir/human voice said. "I do believe she thinks your eyes look tasty."

"Nonsense. Can't you tell she is one of us?"

"Of course she is," the other replied. "But does she know it? She is awfully young, after all. We more enlightened older folks take so much for granted."

I'm getting the feeling that's Juvers, Marco said. Not exactly a great sense of humor, there, but better than either of his siblings have.

"You're wasting the air, genius. Do stop." Arctesch lowered his snout to look more directly at Nri Elka. She bared her teeth even more. "I mean you no harm, little one. Take my scent. Can't you smell that I mean no ill to you?" He reached out one long-taloned, three-fingered hand. When the talons were about an inch from Nri's snout, she dropped to her stomach on the cold metal floor, shoved with her legs to get two and a half feet forward, rolled over, and sank her half-inch long teeth into Arctesch's thumb. Arctesch roared, jerking upright. Nri held on for a moment, then let go, sinking into a crouch on the floor.

"Don't you hate when you ignore me?" Juvrenz asked innocently.

"Shut up," Arctesch snarled in a voice that was barely a voice.

I can't see a thing from under this stupid table! Rachel fumed. What are they doing? Their feet tell us nothing!

"Allow me a chance with her, Arctesch," we heard Ikell say. "Perhaps it is your scent which frightens her. It is unnecessarily strong." Her feet moved quickly around the table. Nri Elka, confused, cringed away from her. As we watched, Ikell straightened her tail stiffly, then crouched down on her backward knees. A foot of crimson hair spread out on the floor. "Tu ne me connâitre pas," she murmured under her breath.

That was not Galard, Ax informed us.

Rachel laughed. You bet it wasn't! That's French!

French? She talks French now? Marco asked.

She said, 'You don't know me,' Rachel translated in a smug voice.

Of course! I said. She needed to teach Nri something Arctesch wouldn't understand if they were ever together. A back-up plan!

Thank you, bird genius, for telling us this after we have also figured it out, Marco said.

Nri Elka hissed. "Big meanie!" she snarled again.

Now 'big meanie' probably means anything bigger than her, Rachel said.

Ikell stood again. "I value my fingers."

"Where is she from?" Juvrenz wondered.

"She looks like Gloift," Arctesch said in that soft, wonder-filled tone. "Could it be... possible...?"

"Othyb may survive Andalites, their allies, and jealous Yeerks," Juvrenz said. "Somehow I doubt the spacial vacuum counts under any of those categories."

"Perhaps she wasn't thrown out an airlock," Arctesch said, crouching down in the same way Ikell had, with his tail stretched out stiffly behind him for balance, but he held his wings close to his body, while she didn't have wings at all. "Perhaps she faked it. By Jirrell, we know how many times Yuuktesl was reported dead."

"No one watched him get sucked out an airlock," Juvrenz pointed out. "There were eight witnesses, all of them reliable, who watched as Gloift met the vacuum when that field failed."

"But who...? She couldn't be Nrintai's. None of hers survived. And she just died."

"Wasn't she pregnant?" Juvrenz asked.

"She... yes!" Arctesch stood up again. Nri Elka tried to run for the door, but this time it didn't open. "She was pregnant, but there was no corresponding corpse of the infant! This is that child!"

Tobias, we need to get out of here with Nri, Marco said. Ikell's stuck. She can't reveal she knows anything about Nri without Arctesch realizing what he's missing. And he's going to realize she's being awfully quiet.

What do you want me to do? I demanded. I'm just as small as you!

Not in real life, he snapped in reply. You're a bird, Tobias. You're the only one of us who can demorph without a limb sticking out from beneath the table!

We need a distraction, Ax said. If you were to remorph as me, that should be enough. Claim that you have come to avenge Sarah's death.

That's not too far from the truth, I muttered to myself. Then I directed my thought-speak to Nri and Ikell. Ikell, Nri, this is Tobias. Don't react to my voice. We're under the table. I'm going to morph out, then morph Ax. Just play along, all right? Except, Nri, you can't use any names. You can't call me Tobeet, or Axie, or anything. Nothing but And'lite, I corrected myself.

Nri lowered her lipless mouth a little while I spoke, then grit her teeth a little when I was done. I wondered if that was some sort of agreement signal or something. It didn't really matter. I started to demorph.

The worse part of morphing is that it is completely illogical. The first thing that happened was I started to grow, the one thing I didn't want to happen first. My tail grew with me, as did my legs and ears. Then my ears shriveled and deflated until they were gone, and my front legs began to grow faster than my back ones.

Rachel! Marco cried. Redirect Tobias' tail! It's going to be poking out from beneath the table!

I saw Rachel scurry behind me, and felt a slight pressure as she pushed against my tail. You guys have to get the tip! It's not far enough in!

Darn it, Tobias, move your freaking tail!

I can't! The muscles aren't there anymore! I didn't want Arctesch - or Juvrenz, for that matter - to see my tail anymore than any of the others did. That would ruin the advantage of surprise just a little. But while I and that stupid tail were growing, the muscles in it weren't - at least, not in the same way. They weren't growing strong enough for me to use the tail. It was a dead weight. It was going to make us dead, if we couldn't get it to stay under the table!

Finally, thankfully, I stopped growing, now at full red-tail hawk size. My muzzle shaped itself like a beak, then hardened. My paws became pinfeathers. My feet lost all muscles, becoming hard, rending talons. My eyesight jumped about eighty levels, changing from narrow mouse-vision to all-encompassing, binocular-like hawk-vision. Finally, at long last, the tail started to shrivel inward, until it disappeared under my tailfeathers.

Finally! Marco sighed. Let's not have that happen again, okay?

Now for the second half, Rachel urged. We gotta hurry, Tobias! Any moment now Juvers or Artics might figure out how to capture Nri Elka, or Ikell might give something away!

And yes, while we were having that minor problem, Jrikvelh, Arctesch, and Juvrenz were chasing a very nimble Nri Elka all over the room. I cringed as yet another tailblade crashed into the table, threatening to knock it from its binding to the floor and expose us. It probably would have looked funny, if we weren't one step from those razor-sharp tailblades. I could see them too clearly now: Arctesch's thick, two-and-a-half foot long blade, like an elephant's tusk but darker, a brownish color like a fossilized dinosaur bone; Juvrenz's relatively short blade, maybe a foot long tops, like a rhino's horn at the end of his tail; and, of course, worst of all, Jrikvelh's blade, thinner than Arctesch's, sharper than Juvrenz's, over half a foot longer than Arctesch's, with that odd, thorn-like protrusion, like a Hork-Bajir spike merged into the already scary blade. Nri Elka's blade, as long as Juvrenz's but only about a quarter as thick, was dwarfed in two cases out of three, and I was willing to bet that Juvrenz's tail was strong enough to break her tailblade in half if he wanted to.

The first thing that came was a spindly, Andalite tail.

Not again! Marco moaned.

Keep it under control this time! Rachel added.

Yes, ma'am, I teased her. I swear, she somehow made that rat muzzle scowl.

I twisted around, letting the heavy tail curl under the table instead of spreading out from beneath it. The tailblade grew in, full-sized, even though I was still otherwise hawk and the tail was only half-grown. My talons shriveled into hooves. My feathers started to melt into blue-and-tan fur. My beak sealed itself into one hard protrusion, then began retracting into my face. Eye stalks sprouted from the top of my head, and lobes flared around my ears, but they weren't at all like the mouse's lobes: these were vaguely blue, vaguely tan, horse-like lobes, but not quite as sharp. My normal eyes grew larger, but weaker, as my eyestalks suddenly turned on. A headache came out of no where, as the bombardment of three hundred and sixty-degree vision overcame my still hawk-vision-centered brain. It faded as my brain became more Andalite, and used to accepting the information the eyestalks sent me. Finally, the rest of me began catching up with the tail, as my wings became weak arms with hands with too many fingers. My chest bone diminished to become more human-like. An extra set of legs began growing from my growing waist.

Now! Marco said. You don't look like a bird anymore! It's safe!

Not yet! I replied. I can't lift my tail yet!

Even as I said that, I felt my lower body getting stronger, my four hoofed legs starting to get longer than those of a hawk. I ducked just before my stalk eyes slammed into the bottom of the table. The instinctive optimism bubbled up under my consciousness. Andalites, before they became sentient, were herd animals. The optimism resembled the calmness of the bull I had once morphed, when I hadn't seen another bull: calm, in control, kinda happy, a little dopey. There was no reason to be afraid, so why should I be?

My Tobias-side, however, provided enough fear to squash the optimism.

Now would be a good time, Tobias, before you become stuck, Ax advised. Was that jealousy in his voice?

Carefully, on stunted legs, I pulled myself out from under the table - just in time to have a twelve foot tall Hork-Bajir kick my in the side with rock-hard, sword-sharp talons and fall, blades and all, over me. He roared in surprise even as I cringed, doing my best not to cry out as those talons dug into my side. My legs reached full length just as Juvrenz hit the ground, and I stood up, trying to look impressive even though I was sure several ribs were bruised, and at least two broken. It hurt like crazy, but I wasn't going to let it show. Sub-Visser! I snapped.

Arctesch had been leaning over, trying to catch Nri Elka; abruptly, he stood up straight. I nearly fainted: fourteen feet of claws, tailblade, horns, plated flesh, wings, and thick gray mane. Me, about six feet of hooves, eyes, and a tailblade that was nothing compared to his. Of course, he couldn't flip his tail over his shoulder - he had to spin around to use it. Not much of an advantage. I didn't have anything to balance out his talons. Or his reach. Or his defenses.

Ikell, what's Arctesch's weakest point? He has a ridge where you have hair!

Ikell looked at me without an expression on her face. "A friend of yours, Arctesch?" she asked him coldly.

"Too young to be the Visser, obviously," Arctesch said. "Perhaps a friend of his, then. Or not, of course. Welcome, whomever you might be."

I do not accept your invitation, I snapped. I have come to avenge the death of my comrade.

"I know this one," Ikell said. "I regret letting you go."

"The one you said couldn't bear to watch?" I almost laughed to see Arctesch - dragon-like, fourteen-foot

tall living weapon Arctesch - roll his eyes. "Ah, but he is merely Andalite, of course. They are a race for revenge, aren't they?"

"I don't see why I need to be included in this," Juvrenz muttered, climbing back to his feet. "Beat up my brother? Go ahead, he's not as perfect as he thinks."

"None of us are," Jrikvelh added.

"Please, no modesty," Arctesch chided them. "We are as we are, aren't we?"

Juvrenz looked at Ikell. "Did he just repeat himself, or did he actually say something?"

I was getting confused.

Arctesch seemed patient and not quite in touch with what was going on. Distracted and hospitable at the same time. Jrikvelh was focused, but quiet, more like a stone wall capable of speaking in a monotone than a living being with mood swings. Juvrenz was acting eerily like a mix of Jake and Marco, but more like Marco. He had the weakest accent of them, but a voice a bit too deep to be considered very human-like. Jrikvelh was acting like one of those foreign thugs super-villains in movies hire, the ones that the smaller, smarter heroes trick into running into walls. Arctesch was acting like some air-headed maitre d' or something. Not at all the psychopath Ikell had made him out to be. And not at all like the bloodthirsty, condescending creature who had killed Sarah in cold blood.

Meanwhile, Nri Elka had taken cover with the others under the table.

I have right to your blood, Sub-Visser! I said, trying to sound in control even though I was pretty lost. You have killed someone very dear to me, someone like family. It is my duty to avenge that death.

"Of course, of course," Arctesch sighed. "You know, Andalite, you really waste your life coming here. You have no chance against me. Especially if you follow tradition and use your own body against me. Your companion, whom I now regret taking my aggravation out on, should have proved that well enough."

She was a human, one of the wisest I have known. I admired her very much. It shall bring her honor when I defeat you, and I will defeat you. Comparing a human to an Andalite is not an appropriate scenario.

"Nor is an Andalite fighting me," Arctesch said. "Especially not at this moment. Please, avail yourself to my ship. I will deal with you as soon as my present situation is dealt with."

Ikell looked at him coldly. "You brush off your would-be assassin to continue chasing a child around a briefing room."

"We all must have priorities," Arctesch answered her.

"Your lust is more important than your honor?"

"I am a Yeerk Sub-Visser," Arctesch retorted, laughing.

"Since when were we allowed to have honor?" Juvrenz added. "Defeating the innocent and enslaving the weak? Where is the honor in that? We are assassins, dear Jivvie. We don't do honor. Of course, you always were the 'insane' one." He smiled that quirky smile of his. "Yes, we have 'the big cheese', 'the psycho', and 'the kid genius'." He looked at the table, under which Nri Elka had disappeared. "And now, uh... her, I suppose," he said, eyeing the others. Rachel bared her sharp little rat teeth at him.

'The big cheese'? Marco echoed from underneath the table, sounding panicked. 'The big cheese?' Did the silly-putty Hork-Bajir just call Artics 'the big cheese'?!

«He has studied.»

I jerked. My eyestalks scanned the room. There was Arctesch, trying to find where Nri Elka had hidden, totally ignoring me. There was Jrikvelh, scowling, her tail lashing, nearly scraping the wall. And there was Juvrenz, shrugging his narrow shoulders. Who had spoken? It had sounded like thought-speak, but wasn't. It... echoed. It was distorted, echoing like someone had shouted thought-speak into the Grand Canyon and it somehow echoed around, but not quite. It was more of... of a reflection, that's it. As if I was hearing the same thing more than once, on more than one level. As if someone had shouted, had spoken normally, and had whispered in my ear, saying the same thing, at the same time, in the same voice.

My eyes settled on the table. No time to worry about whoever had spoken. Nri Elka, come to me! I ordered her, so the others could hear.

Arctesch wanted a reason to pay attention to me?

Nri Elka scampered out from under the table, leaped to where my human-like torso connected to my horse-like back, then gripped my shoulders and boosted herself onto one. She flared her wings around my head, blocking my view of behind me.

Now he had to pay attention to me.

Nri Elka is my responsibility, Sub-Visser, I told him haughtily. I will not allow you to harm her.

A total change came over Arctesch, suddenly and without warning. First, his distraction shifted to surprise and maybe even a little embarrassment as he looked at the two of us. The creature that had bit him had her wings flared protectively around me. Then his foggy green eyes narrowed, and darkened. Like Ikell's eyes when she became angry, shadows formed there, radiating outward. Before, only Visser Three's bladeship and Visser Three himself seemed to radiate evil. But the othyb were able to do that too, it seemed, but at will. They could shut it in, or they could let it out.

No, that's not right. When Ikell became angry, she radiated anger and violence. Arctesch radiated evil.

«So he does have some of it in him.»

There was that echo again! What was it saying? What did it mean? Who had what in him?

Arctesch seemed to transform before my eyes. It wasn't like a morph, or even Ikell's shape-shifting - it was deeper than that, something that was more felt than seen. His eyes grew narrower, hostile, focused. His teeth were bared. He stretched his hands, stiffening his knuckles... was it my imagination, or did that make his claws get longer? Could Arctesch retract his claws at all, or was I just starting to panic? His wings flared, filling the room. His tail stood stiffly at ready. His mane seemed to grow, to rise up from him, like the hackles of a snarling wolf. That was what it was like: like Arctesch was changing from a friendly Siberian husky to a rabid wolf. Pleasantness to insanity. Intelligence to distorted instinct.

"I had hoped to fake my death to satisfy your honor, Andalite," he snarled in that voice only othyb seemed capable of, that snarling sound which somehow formed words. "But now, you will die. And I will not be so quick as I was before. No one will avenge your death, child, because no one will be able to recognize it was you."

CHAPTER 23

Nri Elka hissed defiantly at him. "And'lite love Nri!" she shouted at him.

Arctesch's evil suddenly vanished. It just fled. His mane settled down. His tail crashed to the floor. His wings relaxed. He stood tall again. His anger was replaced by... pain? Arctesch looked like someone had punched him. "No," he said, shaking his head slightly. "No, Andalites could never love us, little one. What are we to them? Freaks. We are weapons of the enemy."

Not Nri Elka, I said. She is innocent. We will protect her from the Yeerks same as we protect this world.

Arctesch shook his head. "No. She cannot stay with you. You are not what we are. You are not like her. You cannot understand what we are, Andalite. You cannot ever understand."

"The conflict is not something logical people like yours can deal with," Juvrenz chimed in. "She may trust you, now. But how old is she? Two weeks? Three? I am the luckiest of us. My conflict is at a minimum. But she is too mixed, too much like them." He jerked his head slightly toward the other othyb. "In a month, two if she's lucky, she won't even trust herself, much less you."

What are you talking about? I demanded. What conflict?

"Have you any idea what we are?" Ikell asked me in a toneless voice.

"We are perfection," Arctesch said, "but with a price for it."

Perfection? I echoed. I forced myself to laugh. I do not believe in perfection.

«No! No repetition!»

What was that weird echo saying? What did it mean? Was it even talking to me? And where the heck was it coming from?

"We are hardly as perfect as Arctesch would have us be," Juvrenz said. "We are hybrids. Hybrids who were not meant to be. We are of races that evolved too far apart to be compatible, naturally, or psychologically. Jrikvelh is the one of us with the reputation for being insane, but to be honest, Andalite, we all are."

"Hork-Bajir are gentle bark-eaters," Arctesch said.

"Bayetai are suspicious, sometimes hostile omnivores," Juvrenz said.

"There are times when instincts do not coincide," Ikell said.

"When we were young, we were all like she is. Energetic. Curious. Social. As children, Hork-Bajir and Bayetai are much like other children. There is very little difference." Juvrenz again.

"But when we get older, Hork-Bajir trust clashes with Bayetajin suspicion." That was Ikell.

"Bayetajin intelligence with Hork-Bajir simplicity equals stubbornness," Juvrenz said, "as well as a tendency to only see one side of a complicated situation."

"Only one thing unites the halves of othyb, allowing them to live with themselves," Arctesch said. "Loyalty. To family."

"To ourselves," Juvrenz said.

"Unlike all other creatures, othyb do not kill each other," Arctesch said.

"Except for the duplicates," Ikell murmured.

«And all the others.»

"They were not killing each other," Juvrenz said, lowering his head and closing his eyes in a remorseful expression. "They were saving each other." Obviously, unlike me, Arctesch could not hear the reflective voice. I wasn't sure about Juvrenz.

As I listened, my Andalite hearts - because Andalites have more than one - felt like lead. They said that I, as an Andalite, could not understand them, and that was true. But I wasn't an Andalite. I was Tobias. A boy, merged with a hawk. Humans - intelligent, omnivorous, destructive primates - were not meant to mix with raptors - instinctive flying killing machines. Human compassion and hawk's hunting instinct collided as much as Hork-Bajir trust and Bayetai suspicion would. Weak human and weak Hork-Bajir, strong hawk and strong Bayetai? How were we so different?

This was the worst enemy I had ever faced. Why?

Because they were exactly like me.

They would understand me, in a way I didn't understand.

They would understand.

I forced those thoughts out of my head. They were still the enemy! I decided that it was time to stop playing fair. I had to use everything I could. What were the others doing, exactly? I hate it when we do everything without thinking first! That's peculiar. My people believe that one of you three killed the one orba the Yeerks managed to create.

The darkness began to surround Arctesch again. "Lies," he snarled.

"There are those that hate us more than you do," Juvrenz said. "Jealous Yeerks who are not as good at killing as we are." He rolled his eyes. "Of course, I'm simply a pilot, really. But we must do as we're required."

"Just as I am a pilot, and Jrikvelh an engineer," Arctesch added.

"As Arctesch said," Ikell finished, "we are what we are. Created. Bonded. And insane."

"Damn good-looking, too," Juvrenz said, quirking up one side of his mouth. "At least, in my case. Arctesch is a father's child, and Jivvie... well, no one knows exactly what she's supposed to be."

Movement came from under the table. As I watched, a copy of my morph squirmed out from under the table.

I am Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill, the clone said, standing tall beside me. And I claim blood-right over my brother. You are mine, Sub-Visser.

I looked at Ax's set, hard face. Unlike me, he wasn't bluffing.

A muscle over Arctesch's eye moved upward, and a pained expression crossed his face. "Clones. Like Deruil and Liured." He curled his tail around his feet. "I would not fight you," he said calmly, "because of that. You remind me of them. A thinker, obviously, you, first one. You were willing to listen to our babble. But your brother becomes impatient and takes matters in his own hands. That is as Deruil would have done." Then his eyes narrowed.

"And I thank you both for your patience," he said, his voice deepening into the voice-like snarl. "But nothing keeps me from what I want. And I want her." His eyes darted slightly, to focus on Nri Elka. "Just ask my siblings, and they will tell you: nothing keeps me from what I want. Not even conscience."

CHAPTER 24

"You never had one to begin with."

I couldn't see behind me; Nri's wings were in the way. But Ax's eyes turned to look. Then he trotted around, so that he was facing me, with Arctesch on one side, the new, hum-like moan of a voice that had come from behind us on the other. I was quick to mirror him, so that we faced each other, with our tails at ready.

In the door, Arctesch stood.

It took a moment to realize that, though what stood in the doorway looked like Arctesch, it wasn't him. For one thing, it had skin of a color half a shade darker than Juvrenz's, and stood at least two feet taller than Arctesch. The wings it carried were shriveled and weak, obviously useless even though they were impressively proportioned to the creature. Its skin had an almost scaly quality, dry and cracked, and its tailblade rested heavily on the flooring behind it. Its claws were even straighter, even longer, and the plates on its stomach were tougher. Its even thicker gray mane was paler than Arctesch's and shown a little, as if some of its hair was actually glass. The biggest difference, however, was the creature's eyes: a deep, dark violet that spoke of anguish and exhaustion, not foggy green that alternated between pleasant and insane. They were the eyes of someone who had seen more than they wished to and would give anything to have not seen anything at all. Tired eyes. The eyes of someone who has given up.

Sub-Visser One-hundred nine, I assume, Ax said coldly.

The creature shrugged. "I'm not even that anymore," it muttered in its heavily accented English. Then it forced itself to look up, to look into proud, spiteful eyes that were lower than its own eyes. "You, Arctesch, was it? I don't even remember anymore." The violet eyes narrowed. "What is this I hear, of you slaughtering children? Isn't it bad enough you don't wish to ever be a child?"

«There's no such thing as children in this Empire, Father.» The creatures blinked, frowning slightly, as if in reply to the voice. «It is good to see you again.»

This time, the creature showed no reaction, making me wonder if I had just seen what I'd wanted to. "Bad enough I taught you anything, Sub-Visser. Bad enough I have to grovel to you now, you whom I watched born, you whom I never wanted to exist."

"Do not start, Under-Visser Eighty-three," Arctesch snarled.

"Grers - dismissed. Andalites, go away. I must talk with my son."

"The Andalites stay. I will not let her out of my sight." He looked directly at Nri Elka. She hissed back.

"Grer Two, Seven, leave. Now."

"But F-" Juvrenz began.

The weaker-looking duplicate of Arctesch looked at him. "Must I truly repeat myself, Grer Two?" he murmured quietly.

Juvrenz's jaw tightened. "No, sir." Then he ducked his head under the table. "Any more Andalites under there? No? Ah, well, then. Out we go." With that, he and Ikell walked out of the room. Only because I was watching did I see the mouse and the rat that scampered out beneath the two of them.

"You are insubordinate, Jirrell," Arctesch grumbled.

"You are disrespectful to my age, boy. I taught you better than that, did I not? Did I teach you nothing of our ways?"

"I am not you!" Arctesch snarled. "I am othyb, not Bayetai! I will never be like you! You don't understand, anymore than anyone else can!"

"Don't I?" In spite of being two and a half feet taller than Arctesch, Under-Visser Eighty-three looked shorter, thanks to his stooped shoulders and weakened wings. Everything about him seemed incredibly old, worn out. "You have half of yourself fighting the other. One half of me watched the other die. Isn't that close enough?"

Arctesch sighed. "Father, not this again. Don't start on this again."

"So what is it now?" the newcomer asked tiredly. "A female child. She looks... looks like Gloift." He took a shuddery breath, and sighed.

"Nrintai's last," Arctesch said. "She has to be."

"Nrintai died three weeks ago."

"The little one is no more than that age."

"So what, now? You speed her progression as you have had done to yourself?"

"Perhaps," Arctesch said, his tone lower. "It's no concern of yours."

"So there'd be two of you running about, children with the bodies of adults with children of your own, I suppose. That would make me very concerned."

Arctesch sighed. "Really, Father, you have such a way of simplifying things," he said, sounding as if it was the Bayetai who was the child, not himself. "You have no worries. Your people are already dead. Mine are just beginning."

The Bayetai sneered blandly, as if he was just doing it because he needed the practice. "What do you think you're going to do with nine males and two females, Sub-Visser? You cannot propagate a species that way. And the only outside race left to you are the Hork-Bajir, and you have already voiced your objections to cross-breeding with them."

"Othyb need to remain pure," Arctesch said with extreme conviction.

"You were never pure to begin with." Under-Visser Eighty-three chuckled weakly. "With eleven of you, I wish you good luck, Sub-Visser." He turned to leave.

"Father!" The Under-Visser stopped. "Why did you come here?"

There was a noticeable pause. "Why wouldn't I?" He limped out the door, his tail carried an inch from the floor. Before the doors closed behind him, he turned around. "Remember, Sub-Visser," he said, his voice soft, "there are those of you that were less disappointing than you were." He moved away from the door, letting it slide shut behind him.

Arctesch turned his glare on Ax and me. "I wish you hadn't seen that," he said in a voice that was almost polite. "It is rather embarrassing to be spoken down to by your parents in front of others, isn't it? But no matter. I could have him killed for insubordination - he's just a useless husk, after all. But he is also my father. And no matter the circumstance, othyb do not just kill their own."

They make excuses for it first, Ax added coldly.

Arctesch's already narrow eyes narrowed farther. "Andalites," he said, his voice toneless now, bordering on the snarl, but not quite reaching it. "I want that child. I will render you molecule from molecule to get her from you. Children should be raised with their own kind."

Othyb are not a race, Ax said. You are mistakes.

You aren't perfection, I added, you are the leftovers in a failed experiment that accidentally created you. Perfection doesn't come about by accident.

"And yet it is impossible to achieve perfection on purpose, isn't it?" Arctesch retorted. "Living creatures cannot reach perfection, if that is their goal. They must get to it in search of something else."

That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard, I told him bluntly.

I believe our cousin is correct, brother, Ax said, turning one stalk eye toward me. The greatest weapon of the othyb is their mouths.

Definitely.

Arctesch bared his teeth. "Perhaps I should give you a matching pair of mouths, so you may see what fun they are," he snarled.

"They already know." Ikell put one taloned hand on my empty shoulder, one on one of Ax's. I cringed, but only her fingers touched me, not her talons. Where had she come from? "And I have claim to your blood before either of them, Arctesch."

"Jrikvelh, please, none of your riddles, not now." Arctesch sighed, closing his eyes. "Just say what you must."

Y'know, for a psychopath, he makes sense, I heard Marco say.

We're remorphed, thanks to two very cool othyb, Rachel said. Did you know that Arn is awesome?

He is definitely my kind of dude, Marco agreed.

Who's Arn? I asked. Where were they? I hadn't seen Ikell enter the room, hadn't even heard the door open and shut. I didn't even know if Marco and Rachel were in the room.

Ikell's little bro, Marco said. My new main man. I mean, he may not be great at the quick line, but he is so totally cool about anything. I told him I was really a lab mouse with dreams of ruling the world. His answer to that was, 'so what's your plan tonight?'

He is the first alien I've ever known who could say 'narf' with a straight face, Rachel said.

He is the first alien I've ever known to be willing to say 'narf', Marco added.

Okay, Ikell's about to take on Arctesch, and you guys are reminiscing about trading cartoon quotes with a stretched-out Hork-Bajir.

Hey, you never ordered us not to have fun, Marco pointed out.

Marco, can it. Where are you?

Guard duty. Nobody gets near this door without Magilla Gorilla or Smokey the Bear checking their hall passes.

So far we've got three naughty Hork-Bajir, and a nasty scratch each, but we're okay out here, Rachel finished. Just keep it together in there, Tobias. We're here in case Arctesch decides to get out.

No matter what, he's not leaving that room, Marco agreed.

CHAPTER 25

Ikell raised her tail high, her tailblade glistening in the overhead lights. She lowered her upper body, bending over a little. She moved her feet farther apart, bracing herself, with her feet planted and her fingers stiff, claws splayed. Her blood-red mane rose from her neck, writhing in an unseen current of air I felt as an ice-cold chill on my back. Her eyes seemed to turn pure bronze, losing focus, becoming blank and dead but for the shadows that swirled about them. Electricity crackled silently around her. "Once, we were family," she murmured softly, not growling at all. She sounded as if she was relating a fairy tale. "Once, it was you and me, remember? You and I in that little cell. Then Liured and Deruil joined us, just as you started to lose your balance. As the fight came to you."

"I know this, Jrikvelh," he said softly. "I remember it as well as you."

"Do you? Do you remember how you tortured Liured, the quarrels you and Deruil had over him? How much you hated him?"

"I did not hate Liured!" Arctesch snapped, his mane bristling.

"You hated him!" Ikell returned savagely, baring her teeth. "You took every chance you could to torture him, teaching him that words meant something they did not, showing him how to injure his tail rather than use it proficiently! You helped make him into the weakling he became!"

"He was born weak," Arctesch scoffed.

"As was Nrintai, but she was not as he was," Ikell retorted. "She was not, because she didn't have to deal with you!"

They're fighting over how much he picked on their dead little brother? Marco muttered.

Not only that, they're fighting over it loud enough that we can hear, Rachel confirmed.

"He was taking you from me!" Arctesch cried, then stepped back, as if an invisible forcefield had slammed down on the end of his face.

Ikell stared at him around her bared teeth. Her lipless mouth pulled even farther away from her teeth. "You picked on the twins because you were jealous?" she sneered.

"You were what I had!" he replied, his eyes revealing pain, his voice confusion. "Do you know what it had been like in that cage alone?"

"You hated him because I loved him!"

"More than you did me!"

"Why wouldn't I, after how you treated him!"

"You want my blood because I treated our brother unfairly?"

There we go! Marco cheered. Someone's showing sense!

"That is merely the first," Ikell snapped. "Then there was the time, when I was still in charge of fields. Just after Gloift's death. The Taxxon."

"That was you realized the madness is our greatest strength," Arctesch said.

"That was when I realized the madness is our greatest curse! I killed in cold blood, for what? For a fool taunting me?"

Whoa, Marco murmured.

"That was the worse moment of my life!" Ikell cried.

"It was a triumph!" Arctesch corrected her, spreading his hands in a compassionate way. "You learned to use the conflict to protect yourself, to keep yourself safe from others not like you!"

"Should I use it against everyone not like me, then? Should I use it against you, Arctesch?"

"You hate me - want to kill me - because I can do something you cannot!" Arctesch snapped.

Ikell's mouth pulled entirely from her teeth, leaving the two-inch-long fangs completely bared. They glistened, off-white, as dangerous as any blade she carried. Her eyes looked jade green with shadows of hate. «I hate you because I do not want to be you!» the echo screamed, its once sad tone changed into a raging fury. Ikell launched herself at Arctesch.

Ax and I stumbled backwards, away from Ikell, away from the hate and rage and violence that radiated from her. Arctesch reeled, as if hit by a Mack truck, not Ikell. He didn't even raise his hands to defend himself. Nri screamed, hugging my neck without cutting it, her left eye pressed to my right main eye. It didn't take an ability to radiate negative emotions to know that she was terrified.

Arctesch's eyes were opened wide, her expression shocked. "You still are able?" he breathed, from under a blade held dangerously close to his throat. He lay on his own wings on the floor, with one of Ikell's talon-like feet digging its claws into his chest plates, one clawed hand holding his shoulder down, the other precariously close to his throat. Blood poured from the renewed gash, where she had sliced open his snout. She had followed the previous injury perfectly, but now it was much, much deeper. "After all this time? It has not left you?"

«Of course it hasn't left me, any more than you have!» the voice snarled. «I've many curses, brother, but you are the easiest I have to deal with!»

Ikell was the voice. Hadn't she said she had something like thought-speak?

But hadn't she also said that only othyb could hear it? No, not just othyb - Hork-Bajir and Bayetai, too. But Ax and I were Andalites - at least, at the moment. Could we hear it because we, in Andalites bodies, naturally used thought-speak, too?

What's going on in there, Tobias? Rachel demanded.

Who's the echo? Marco added.

Obviously, that theory was wrong, if Marco and Rachel could hear her, too. But why, if she had said only Hork-Bajir, othyb, and Bayetajin could hear her, did we hear her?

Obvious answers: either she'd lied, or she hadn't known.

We can hear Ikell's thought-speak, I answered them.

How? Marco asked.

I'm supposed to know? I concentrated on the more important issue than why we could hear Ikell. Jrikvelh, I said as best I could, get off of him.

«I told you, I had first claim!» she snarled, shadowed eyes turning to glare at me.

I met those horrible, hate-green eyes. You kill him, Ikell, you are him.

Her eyes narrowed even farther, but still I could see that horrible green color composed of hate and anger and violence. I stood my ground, but I was shaking. «I am Jrikvelh, part peace, part war. I am not Arctesch - I am not the one who destroys to survive. I am the one who chooses balance over chaos. The one who represses the violence inherent in us rather than live by it.»

But you're using it now! I told her. Nri cooed, and rubbed her snout against my ear. You're using that violence to overpower and kill Arctesch. You kill him, you become him. You are no better than he is. I looked at Ax. None of us would be.

Ikell shoved against Arctesch. Her claws dug into his shoulders, leaving deep, gauged holes. She stood up straight, tail snapping the air. "I will not be you," she growled.

Slowly, Arctesch pulled himself to his feet. "Just go," he said softly. "Just go, Jrikvelh. Obviously, you can no longer stay here. The Visser will never know you came here."

"It is not that simple, Arctesch," Ikell said, scowling. "The Andalites go free as well. They, too, were never here."

Sarah will be avenged! Ax snapped, stepping forward.

"No," Ikell said, shaking her head. "Death is not meant to be avenged. It can only be a release from life, not a separation from it. Death, I know, is hardest on those that survive past it. Death is not a torture - life is the torture." She looked at Arctesch. "It has been mine, and so it will be yours."

Arctesch looked tired, suddenly, and very old. "Just leave the child and go," he said.

"Never," Ikell snarled. "Nri Elka!" With a happy chirp, Nri leaped from my shoulder, flapping her wings as hard as she could, slowing her fall slightly, so that she landed on Ikell's back spines instead than the floor. "She is mine, Arctesch," she snapped.

"Yours?" Arctesch's eyes widened. "You are too young!"

"Of Nrintai's womb, of my heart," Ikell said. "She shall never be yours."

Arctesch's eyes narrowed. "I had hoped we would leave on good terms."

"You wish for the past, Arctesch. You wish for what no longer is. You were my brother and my family, once. Now you are my enemy and my enemy alone."

Arctesch turned away suddenly. I was shocked to see that the holes that had been cut into his chest went completely through, so that I could actually see the wall behind him if I positioned my stalk eyes to see passed his wings. Ikell hadn't gauged him: she had speared him. And he didn't even act like those wounds, or the slash down his snout, existed. "Just go," he said softly. "Take whatever you well and please, Jrikvelh. Just..." his head lowered, until all we could see of it was his mane and the huge, chainsaw-like horns that sprouted from over his lobeless ears, "...go."

Ax and I looked at Ikell. Nri rubbed her snout against Ikell's, murmuring a questioning nonsense. Ikell placed a comforting finger between her horns. "Thank you," she whispered. Arctesch didn't reply.

And that was how two Andalites, two othyb, a gorilla, and a grizzly bear were allowed to walk, scot-free, out of a Yeerk bladeship.

CHAPTER 26

Ikell.

She didn't look up from her branch. «What is it, Tobias?» she asked me.

I fluttered to a landing beside her. I had already said hello to the Hork-Bajir; I had seen Sel Clemen and Nri Elka down by the lake, Nri splashing in the shallower water, Sel slightly deeper, trying to get her to move her arms and legs and tail correctly. She seemed to be doing all right, but obviously had no idea what to do with her wings, which kept fouling her up. She sounded like she having the time of her life. Did you know we'd hear you? Talk like that, I mean.

She shook her head. Her blood-red mane fell on her shoulders, framing her face in an almost dramatic way. Her eyes were hooded, distracted, contemplative; they were the antique gold color they were supposed to be, the beautiful color that still could not entirely hide her true, confused nature. Eyes that, unlike mine, did not hide the pain, the conflict, the feeling of being utterly lost to herself. «When I was small... when I was born... I spoke like this to my father. I spoke only to him because I did not know what everything else was. But, somehow... somehow, I knew, just as most of the othyb did, what he was. It is a Bayetai trait, I believe - the ability of an infant to pick out a relation - just as it is a Bayetai trait to know one's name at birth.»

You were born with those names?

She looked at me and smiled faintly. «You think we would be given names that so few can pronounce?»

Good point. She lowered her head again, returning to staring at something invisible below her. How's Nri Elka doing?

«The instincts won't start conflicting for several weeks yet. She is still innocent. Still whole.»

I understand, Ikell. She looked at me without moving her head. I know what it is, to be separated into two halves.

«You would, nothlit. That, more than anything, is why I placed Nri in your care so willingly. Of all creatures on Earth, you are the only one who would understand us. I do not know how your allies... your... friends... would react to that idea. That you can relate to something so hideously unbalanced.»

There is nothing hideous about you.

She closed her eyes. «Do not let the exterior fool you. Not you. Not when you have seen what I really am. What attacked Arctesch, what wanted to destroy him - that is me, Tobias. That is me more than what is talking to you now. This is a facade, same as my body. This is a pretense.»

No, it's not. She said nothing. It's you, same as that other half is you. Once, I thought I could only be a hawk or only human, but it isn't true. Neither half is meant to be together, Ikell, but now, neither part can be separated. I need the hawk's instincts as much as I need the human intelligence. I'm nothing without both sides of myself.

«As are we all,» she said softly. «All of us have two halves. Jake is child and commander, Rachel is warrior and worrier. Cassie is all heart - half emotion, half instinct, knowing what must be done and hating that she does. There are always two halves. Arctesch is insanity, and yet he is the most loyal person alive. I am insane, and yet, ironically, I am hope.»

Hope?

Ikell looked at me. «As all Bayetai are born with names, so all Bayetai names have meaning. But, unlike Bayetai, othyb were not born with the knowledge of that meaning. I was the daughter of a man named Jirrell, Tobias. His name means 'hopeless'. And so he is because of me.» She looked upward, toward the sky. «I was born with the name Jrikvelh. I was born to be his Hope.» She lowered her head again. «But instead, I am confused and I am lost. I am young and I am afraid.» She closed her eyes, and pain overcame her expression. «Tobias, how can I be hope for anyone when I have no hope for myself?»

You were Nri Elka's only hope, I said. And, without you, I would not be here now. That makes you mine, too. You kept Ax from trying to take on Arctesch, which makes you his. You kept Marco and Rachel from sacrificing themselves for the sake of revenge, which makes you theirs. By being ours, you become Jake's and Cassie's and the free Hork-Bajir's and that of this entire world, because you are the hope of the Animorphs. You are everyone's hope.

«But I am not mine, Tobias,» she said, looking at me again. «I can't even trust myself, much less have hope in myself.»

Then have faith, I said.

«Faith?» she echoed bitterly. «In what?»

In all you care about, I replied. No one can have hope if they don't have faith.

"Faith," Ikell said aloud. She looked upward again, toward the stars above us. "Do you still have faith, Father?" she murmured quietly. "Is that what you had in me, hopeless one?"

Ikell stood up, then climbed to the top of the tree. I forced myself against the chill night air to perch beside her. She looked over the valley, standing at her full, eleven-foot height, her mane blowing about her. She carried her tail proudly behind her, her hands at her sides with their claws held with pride. She held her head up on her long, graceful neck, and her eyes gleamed in the light of the half moon. She looked down toward where the old Hork-Bajir elder and her niece splashed in the shallows. Nri was starting to move her wings in the same way as Sel was showing her to move her arms, which was working surprisingly well. The tension in Ikell's face eased away, and she nodded. She looked down at

me, and, for the first time in the week since Arctesch and the other othyb had been removed from Visser Three's command, since the week and a half that she had seen Arctesch, in the two weeks since Sarah's death, in the weeks since the slumber party she'd attended with Cassie, Sarah, and Rachel, she smiled. Truly, she smiled. Even with two-inch-long fangs hidden under the lipless, beak-like mouth, even with almond-shaped eyes of antique gold, even with the double-pointed horn sprouting from her forehead and curved, goat-like horns over each lobeless ear, even with the wild mane that was bigger than Cassie and colored with the hue of fresh, hot blood, it made her look beautiful. It made me see what Arctesch meant, about othyb being perfect. Nothing so beautiful could not be perfect.

"Yes, Tobias," she said aloud. "I will have faith."