The Prophecy Read online

  For Michael and Jake

  CONTENTS

  TITLE PAGE

  DEDICATION

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  SNEAK PEEK

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  COPYRIGHT

  My name is Cassie.

  Just Cassie. At least that’s all I’m going to tell you. It’s not because I think I’m so special I only need one name. I know I’m not Jewel or Brandy or Beck.

  I’m actually pretty ordinary. If you saw me walking down one of the halls at your school, you probably ­wouldn’t give me a second look. Unless it was one of the days when I had a little bird poop on my jeans from working with my dad in his Wildlife Rehabilitation Clinic. If it was a bird-poop day, you might give me a second “oh-gross” look.

  But I ­really am your basic, average girl. A first and last name plus middle initial kind of girl. Except for the fact that I spend most of my time trying to stop the Yeerk invasion of Earth.

  That’s why I can only tell you my first name. If the Yeerks knew my last name, I’d be dead. No, worse than dead.

  Let me give you the Cliffs Notes version.

  Fact: Yeerks are alien parasites that have the appearance of small gray slugs. They enter their hosts through the ear canal, then spread their soft bodies into the crevices of their hosts’ brains.

  Fact: The Yeerks have already enslaved many species, including the Hork-Bajir, the Gedds, and the Taxxons, although the Taxxons submitted willingly. Now the Yeerks have targeted the entire human race for use as hosts.

  Fact: You already know someone who is controlled by a Yeerk. You just don’t know you know someone who is controlled by a Yeerk. Yeerks can access their hosts’ memories and make them act exactly the way they always have. A human host, called a Controller, cannot move a single muscle unless the Yeerk in his or her head gives the order.

  Fact: The Animorphs may be your only hope of escaping becoming a human-Controller yourself.

  The Animorphs are me and four of my friends — Jake, Rachel, Marco, and Tobias. A great Andalite prince named Elfangor gave us the power to morph into animals. He knew he was about to die, and he ­didn’t want to leave Earth completely defenseless against the Yeerks. Later we were joined in our fight by Elfangor’s younger brother, Ax. Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill.

  Usually the six of us work as a team, but tonight I had a secret mission, and I ­didn’t want too many ­people around. I asked Rachel if she’d be my backup, and of course she agreed.

  You should see Rachel. She’s like Stone Cold Steve Austin crossed with Miss Teen USA. Unlike me, Rachel is someone who ­could pull off the whole I’m-so-special-I-only-need-one-name deal even if she ­didn’t have to keep her identity a secret.

  “So are we going in or what?” Rachel asked me.

  I stared up at the old Victorian house. A single light burned in one window. A loose shutter kept swinging back and forth on its hinges. The screeching sound made the hair at the back of my neck prickle.

  “We’re going in,” I answered, ignoring the prickling sensation.

  “This plan of yours is … what’s the word I’m looking for?” Rachel asked. “Oh, yeah. Insane. As in Looney Toeowww —”

  Rachel’s words turned into a high meow. Her vocal cords had started to change first.

  “We have to do this,” I told her as her nose narrowed and sprouted fur. “It’s life and death.”

  I watched Rachel for a few more moments. She was going to use her cat morph to go into the house. I was going to use my rat morph. I figured it ­couldn’t hurt to give her a little head start. That way she’d be in total control of her cat brain before I became all small and delicious.

  When a fluffy black-and-white tail sprang out of Rachel’s rear, I decided I’d waited long enough. I focused on the rat DNA inside me, and instantly felt my hands begin to wither.

  Morphing is easier for me than anyone else in the group. Maybe it’s because I spend so much time around animals. I don’t know.

  But even for me, morphing isn’t a smooth transformation. It’s not like my body shrinks first, then grows hair, then shoots out whiskers and a tail.

  No, morphing is a lot less logical than that. Grosser, too. Like right now I had little tiny hands, and I ­could feel coarse hair popping out on my back. But otherwise, I still looked like me.

  Then my ears rolled up to the top of my head, and my eyeballs contracted until they were the size of BBs. I felt a sloshing, twisting sensation as my internal organs began to shift and shrink.

  My nose and mouth stretched, merged, then re-formed. My teeth sharpened. A wave of dizziness engulfed me as I fell ­toward the ground, my body shrinking to the size of a … of a rat. My hairless, ropey tail appeared and I was done.

  Rachel announced in thought-speak.

  My little rat heart was racing. My little rat brain was ordering me to run, run, run away from the cat. I clamped down on my new instincts. It’s easier when you’ve already morphed a particular animal before, as I had done with the rat. The first time can be tough, though.

  I answered.

  Rachel took off across the lawn, her body low to the ground. I scurried behind her. The grass brushed up against my belly and tickled my nose.

  Without a sound, Rachel slipped through the dog door. I complained. I gave the door a head butt. It opened wide enough for me to scramble through.

  I reminded Rachel.

  We beat feet to the staircase. It would take me forever to haul myself up all those stairs. I decided to take the rat ramp instead. I dug my claws into the wood and climbed the side of the banister. Then I ran straight up.

  Of course, Rachel still got to the top before me. I half-climbed, half-fell off the banister and followed her down the hall to the lighted room. I hoped we ­hadn’t gotten here too late.

  I took a quick peek inside. Yes! My math teacher was sitting at a desk grading papers. At least I knew this was the right place.

  I ducked back.

  EEEEEEE!

  Rachel cried.

  I shot back.

  I pressed myself tight against the wall. I squeezed my eyes shut tight so she ­wouldn’t see them glistening in the shadows.

  I felt the floor begin to vibrate. Did she see me? Did she see me?

  No. Her big feet walked right on by.

  Rachel said. She darted into the room and leaped up onto the desk.

  I stammered. I tried to climb up the desk leg. But it was metal. My claws ­couldn’t get a grip.

  Rachel answered.

  I wa
rned Rachel.

 

 

  Rachel laughed and leaped down off the desk with the sheet of paper in her teeth.

 

  The cool night air fluttered my owl feathers as I flapped ­toward home. I tightened my right talon around the doodle. There was no way I was going to lose it again.

  I still ­couldn’t believe I’d turned it in to a teacher. Was love turning my brain to mush, or what? I wondered if Jake ever did stupid stuff because he was daydreaming about me.

  We never talked about things like that. We’d never even used the “L” word to each other. That’s what Rachel calls it. The “L” word.

  But even though he’d never said it out loud, I knew that Jake loved me. And I knew Jake knew I loved him, even though I’d never said it out loud, either.

  That was totally clear when we kissed. Yes, even though we don’t walk around groping each other like some couples, we have kissed a few times. Usually right after we’ve managed to survive something horrible. It’s usually an “I-can’t-believe-we’re-alive!” kiss.

  Not that I’m complaining. Well, not exactly. I have to admit it would be nice to kiss Jake after a movie instead of after a battle or some other near-death experience.

  I dropped one wing and made a sharp turn. The back of our barn came into sight.

  Hork-Bajir!

  The distinctive nightmare shape moved through the shadows that were bright as day to me. Just one. One was enough.

  Shouldn’t be here! Couldn’t be here! The Yeerks, they had to know ­everything!

  No!

  The image of my parents being ripped to bits by the Hork-Bajir’s blades blasted into my brain. Images of other Yeerks rounding up my friends. Doors kicked in, Dracon beams firing, flashing blades. Rachel. Jake.

  No! NO!

  Couldn’t worry about them. Not now. Focus! Had to stop this one Hork-Bajir. Just this one. Then …

  Land on the other side of the barn, demorph, then morph to wolf, attack, attack!

  No time. It would take too long. Too late! The Hork-Bajir ­could … what was a lone Hork-Bajir doing here? One by himself? Irrelevant! Focus!

  What would Rachel do? Attack right now. She ­wouldn’t wait to morph. She’d swoop down and rake the Hork-Bajir with her talons.

  Attack now.

  I focused on the Hork-Bajir and flew straight for it. I’d aim for the eyes. While it was staggering around blind, I’d morph from owl to human to wolf. Or polar bear. Then I’d go for the throat. I ­could almost taste the flesh already.

  Closer. Closer. I stretched out my talons, preparing to strike. A noiseless night-stalker designed by nature for much smaller prey.

  I flew between the light above the shed and the Hork-Bajir. The Hork-Bajir spun, alerted by my shadow. He would slice me in half!

  Then, in the light, at the last possible moment …

 

  I jerked my talons back and spun my body hard to the left. I crash-landed in the dirt a few feet away from the Hork-Bajir. I wasn’t hurt but I was definitely shaking.

  I lay there on my side in the dirt, a wing ­crumpled beneath me. I said.

  This Hork-Bajir ­wasn’t a Controller, wasn’t a creature of the Yeerks. It was Jara Hamee, one of the tiny group of free Hork-Bajir. I’d almost blinded him. The thought made me nauseous.

  But my entire universe was being put back in place in my mind now. No attack on my parents. The Yeerks did not know about us. No violent assault to seize Jake and Rachel, Ax and Tobias and Marco.

  None of that was happening. And eventually my heart would stop hammering like it was trying to get out of my rib cage.

  I concentrated on my own DNA and demorphed as fast as I ­could.

  The colony of free Hork-Bajir live in a hidden valley created for them by a being called the Ellimist. Even if you know exactly where it is, it’s hard to find. Your eyes just seem to slide away from it. Your mind just seems to want to forget it. It’s the only place that the Hork-Bajir are at all safe from the Yeerks. Or from humans for that matter. Most humans who saw a Hork-Bajir would shoot first, ask questions later. It’s not hard to understand why. The Hork-Bajir look as if they were designed to kill. But they are among the gentlest creatures I’ve ever encountered.

  They’re even vegetarians. The razor-sharp blades on their ankles, knees, wrists, and elbows are for stripping bark off trees. That’s what they eat. Bark.

  “Need help,” Jara answered. “Toby say, ‘Father, get human friends. Bring.’”

  I emerged into fully human form. “Why? What happened? What’s wrong?” I demanded. Amazing how now my human heart was still beating way too fast from the adrenaline rush of sheer terror.

  Jara rocked back and forth on his big T. Rex feet. “Alien come valley.”

  “The Yeerks? They found you?!” I cried. “Did they attack you? What’s the situation?”

  Talking to Jara Hamee was sort of like talking to a four-year-old. Which was fine usually. But not now. Every second wasted ­could be putting the free Hork-Bajir in danger.

  “Not Yeerks,” Jara explained. “Arn. From the old world. Arn … make … Hork-Bajir.”

  Rachel wondered.

 

 

  Marco said.

  The whole group was in bird-of-prey morph. It was the fastest way to get to the Hork-Bajir valley. The night had passed. The sun had come up on a new day. A beautiful, cool Saturday morning. The deep green forest foothills below us, the towering cumulus above. It was almost hot in the direct sunlight, cooler under the shadow of the Mount Everest-sized clouds.

  Rachel continued.

  Rachel ­wasn’t being totally accurate. The Hork-Bajir were never slaves on their home planet. Not exactly. It’s not like the Arn made the Hork-Bajir wait on them hand and foot.

  What we knew of all this came from Tobias, who’d heard the story from Jara Hamee. There was a terrible cataclysm on the planet we call the Hork-Bajir home world, but in those days the planet was populated only by the Arn. It shattered the planet’s crust and stripped away much of the atmosphere. The Arn who survived needed trees to provide oxygen. Lots of exceedingly large trees. They ­didn’t feel like taking care of the trees themselves. Solution? They used genetic engineering to design creatures of low intelligence who ate tree bark: the Hork-Bajir.

  An elegantly simple solution for the Arn, who were masters of genetic manipulation.

  The Hork-Bajir just lived their lives, utterly unaware that the Arn even existed deep down in the impossibly steep valleys. They took care of the trees they depended on for food. They did what came naturally. Did what the Arn designed them to do.

  Then came the Yeerks.

  The Yeerks ­didn’t see tree maintenance workers when they saw the Hork-Bajir. They saw an army. They made the Hork-Bajir their hosts. They took the peaceful creatures away from their home planet and began using them as killing machines, shock troops of the Yeerk Empire.

  There’s a longer story there, but that’s the short version.

  Tobias said. ll that flapping.>

  Tobias is the expert. Tobias is, or was, trapped in red-tailed hawk morph. He regained his ability to morph, but he’s chosen to consider hawk as his true body.

  Long story there, too.

  I stretched open my wings and caught one of those thermals. The warm air lifted up my osprey body.

  A couple of thermals later I spotted about twenty Hork-Bajir clustered together in the center of the valley. Adults and kids. Seeing the kids was especially cool. They were the first Hork-­Bajir in generations to be born into freedom.

  We circled down from the clouds and landed, one by one. All of us demorphed, except Tobias.

  Toby Hamee moved away from the group to greet us. Toby is the daughter of Jara Hamee and Ket Halpak. She’s what the Hork-Bajir call “different.” She’s what the Arn call a freak of nature. She is a seer. A Hork-Bajir whose intelligence matches that of the Arn themselves.

  “Thank you for coming. We felt the need of your advice.”

  “No problemo,” Marco said. “It was either this or wash my dad’s car.”

  “The Arn landed last evening in a small Yeerk ship. We nearly killed him, thinking he was a Controller. He has some sort of plan in mind. We told him to wait so we ­could bring you to advise us.”

  “We’re flattered,” Jake said, “but you don’t need us.”

  “I do need you,” Toby said. “I especially need you,” she added, looking at Ax. “If I understand his goal, we ­could use an Andalite’s opinion.”

  “Let’s see what he’s got to say,” Jake said.

  We followed Toby over to the Hork-Bajir. They moved closer together to make room for us in the circle.

  The Arn stood in the center. The first thing I noticed about him was his eyes. They glittered like diamonds lit from within. Their intensity dazzled me.

  I blinked a few times, and began to take in more details of the Arn’s appearance. He had four legs, two elongated arms, and a pair of short wings. He was about half as tall as Ax and his skin was a vibrant emerald-green.

  I stared at the Arn. We’d gotten almost used to seeing alien races: Hork-Bajir, Taxxons, ­Anda­lites, Howlers. Almost. There was still something unsettling about seeing something, someone who was so definitely not from around here.