ASH MISTRY AND THE CITY OF DEATH (22 page)

avage screamed, his bones stretching and melting as the magic backlash hit him. The skull brands on his chest pulsed with light. His face melted like wax under a blowtorch, obscenely running and re-forming, exposing raw muscle and bone as the body rearranged itself. Ugly blotches of pus and blood swelled under the skin and then sank away. His forehead bubbled and beads of blood dribbled from his eyes. He threw back his head and gave a hissing cry.

Ash watched with morbid fascination. This was more than just Savage’s life force being robbed and fought over.

Savage groaned and stiffened. He clutched his head and pushed against the bloated lumps upon his skull. The magical energies within him twisted his limbs and marred his flesh with grotesque, cancerous growths. But Savage fought against them, and eventually he returned to his normal, though decrepit, shape.

Panting, saliva dribbling from his lips, he stared at Ash. “Now you understand why I need the Brahma-aastra. I cannot go on like this.”

“I think you’re mistaking me for someone who gives a damn, Savage.” But briefly, Ash pitied the Englishman – and felt something akin to awe. Out where there had been nothing but sea, there now stood an island. If Savage could raise whole lands, then maybe he was telling the truth about the diamond. “I just want Gemma back, as she was.”

“A promise is a promise.” One of the loha-mukhas came up behind Savage and helped him slip on a fresh white linen shirt. “The secret to that lies in Lanka, upon the Black Mandala.”

Mandala? Ash’s dad had one at home. It was a religious painting, usually circular. Monks and other holy people used them to aid in their meditations. But he’d never heard of a black one. All the ones he’d seen blazed with colours.

“What is it?” Ash asked.

“Something Ravana created. In layman’s terms, it is a scroll with the mantra of Brahma upon it. You give me an hour to study it, and I will awaken the aastra. I’ll transport us to England, and you’ll be holding hands with your friend before dusk.”

Ash looked at the island. Water still cascaded down from the highest hills, and the entire place shimmered in the bright sunlight. The city of Ravana. He couldn’t believe it. “What else is in there?”

“You tell me. You’ve been there before, as Rama.”

Rama, the human prince who had conquered Lanka, and one of Ash’s past lives. But nothing of the scene before him stirred any memories. Ash’s focus was locked on to the first Ashoka. Maybe there wasn’t any room for other memories right now.

“All I know are the myths,” said Ash.

“Like me when I first came to India,” Savage said wistfully. “Back in the eighteenth century, this country was a land of myths, as mysterious and as fantastic as that island over there. You have no idea how awe-inspiring it was to see my first elephant, to see the Himalayas. The wonder of it all.”

“What happened?” The way Savage talked about India made Ash envious, almost. The marvel in Savage’s voice was still there.

“I discovered many new things. I acquired great knowledge of an esoteric nature. I learned much, but understood little.” Savage accepted a jacket from Jackie and adjusted a marigold in the buttonhole. “Look at Rishi. He was as powerful as I, but he restrained himself, avoided the traps I fell into. Magic’s a drug: the more you use, the less effect it has, so the more you need to do even the smallest of spells. It is an endless downward spiral.”

“Then why don’t you stop? All the things you know, all the lives you’ve lived, couldn’t you—”

“Use it for good? Is that what you’re going to say?”

Ash blushed. It sounded so childish, but that was exactly what he meant.

Savage put on a pair of stout boots. “Don’t you think I’ve tried? I taught others magic, hoping to create a society of wise men, but that failed. They competed against each other for power, wealth and influence. Power corrupts.”

“You had apprentices? Where are they?”

“In hell, I hope. It’s as much as they deserve.” Savage checked his cane, sliding out his sword and giving it a flourish in the shining sunlight before clicking it back in place. “But there is Lanka, and the day is passing. You and I, boy, are partners on a great adventure.”

“That doesn’t mean I trust you,” said Ash.

A sly smile cracked over Savage’s pale face. “Of course not.”

Lanka lay before them, at the end of the wave-washed causeway. The storm had vanished as suddenly as it had arrived. Blue sky appeared through the patches of cloud, and the wind now just ruffled Ash’s hair. Large waves broke on the beach, but they were half the height they’d been just five minutes ago.

Lanka glistened in the morning sun. The city looked like it had been made of coral and sculpted rock, not built, but grown. The spikes and edges of the buildings were ragged and sharp. It was a place where if you didn’t watch your step, you’d be torn apart.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” said Savage.

“And dangerous,” said Ash.

“Dangerous indeed.” Savage’s eyes, two black obsidian orbs, narrowed. “Are you afraid?”

“How can I be when you’ve got my back?”

Jackie growled, but Savage laughed and she backed down, her fur rippling across her shoulders. “Come, we are wasting time,” said Savage.

Savage assembled his party: Jackie, of course; five of the hyena rakshasas and five loha-mukhas. A pair of stone monkeys carried a set of heavy iron-bound chests on their heads. Then came the six-armed Shiva and two winged gargoyles that looked as if they’d just come off the roof of Notre Dame Cathedral. It was like some bizarre expedition from the Victorian era, the brave white explorer and his native bearers. Ash wouldn’t have been surprised if one of the trunks included a china dining set.

“We need all of that?” Ash asked.

“Lanka will be defended. Better we be cautious. I wouldn’t want something unpleasant to happen to you.”

“Sure you wouldn’t.”

The rakshasas led them down the steep path to the causeway, sniffing the route. Ash stayed close to Savage, his hand on the katar, the diamond in the satchel. The loha-mukhas trailed behind.

The road lay about half a metre above the sea. Waves splashed across the weathered and seaweed-covered stone. Strange formations of coral had attached themselves to the causeway, decorating it with multicoloured foliage. Bright greens, radiant yellows, blues and golds all shone upon and within the rectangular slabs, as if they had been draped with gems.

Ash fell into step with Jackie.

“Glad to be going home?” Ash asked.

“Lanka was the greatest city in the world, mortal. It is a holy place.”

“Looks like it could do with a bit of paint.”

Jackie glanced at him with a look of cold fury. “You killed my only two friends.”

“And you killed Gemma,” Ash replied, his voice low and threatening.

“A mortal? What was she?” Jackie snorted. “Mayar was a great, great rakshasa. He wore the skins of princes and feasted on the eyes of kings. Jat was a lord of birds; we ate the dead on countless battlefields. Carrion kings we were. And you killed them both. You, a small, pathetic child.”

In spite of what he was, or was becoming, he didn’t want to kill anything or anyone. But this close, it was as if he could smell Gemma’s blood on Jackie’s claws.

Jackie put her hand on Ash’s chest, her claws just scratching his tunic. Two hyena rakshasas stood just behind her, and the other three, somehow, had slipped behind Ash. He glanced at Savage, but the Englishman was not paying attention in that ‘I know what’s going on, but I’m pretending I haven’t seen anything’ sort of way.

“Classic playground ambush,” Ash said. His punch dagger sat tucked in his sash. “Really, Jackie? This the best you can do?”

Jackie knew how to grin – lots of teeth and bad attitude. “What’s to stop me from just taking the Koh-i-noor off you right now?”

Ash dropped his shoulder and the satchel slipped off. He caught it by the strap just before it fell into the water. “This?” He swung the satchel back and forth, higher and higher, holding the strap by a finger. “And what’s to stop me letting go and sending it to the bottom of the sea?”

Savage cleared his throat. “No more dawdling. We’ve still some miles to go.”

“It’s not over between us,” said Ash as Jackie joined the other demons.

Where were Parvati and Khan? Ash constantly looked back, hoping to see them on the shore, but he was too far away.

He wished they could see what he saw. A bloody huge island with palaces and everything had just risen out of the sea. Even for Parvati, that had to be something special. And it was Lanka, her home.

Ash searched the chopping waves, wondering if there might be some boat out there bringing the two rakshasas to the island.

Instead he spotted the fins.

uddenly the causeway seemed terribly narrow and slippery.”

“Don’t fall,” warned Jackie. “I want to save you for myself.”

“I can swim,” snapped Ash.

Jackie pointed. “Won’t make any difference to them.”

A few of the dagger-cruel fins darted off to the side, and Ash saw a froth of water jet out. A curving, dark grey shape glided along the surface before submerging again. A whale.

The fins dipped under after it.

The other sharks changed direction and shot towards the commotion. The water churned and turned red as more and more of the deadly sea hunters attacked the whale. The sharks piled into one another, utterly focused on feeding and ignoring anything else. They slithered over each other and fought and gouged as great chunks of pink meat were torn off and shaken loose.

Ash stepped away from the edge as the waves lapped red over his toes. Even from here he sucked in the energy from the death, but it was sickeningly tainted, savage with mindless frenzy. The images of teeth and tearing and flesh slick with blood filled his mind, choking him. He wanted to stop it, but part of him craved more. A new strength surged through him. He licked his lips.

It went on for minutes, and all of Savage’s party watched with mute horror or admiration. Savage, cane tucked under his arm, put a brass spyglass to his eye.

Finally the sharks broke away from their feast. A few smaller ones lurked and dived near the kill, but the bigger ones pushed their way back into the open sea. However, one pack – there was no other word for it – swam towards the causeway. They were in formation, a tight, accelerating V with the biggest shark at the front.

They wanted dessert.

The sharks gained speed, and the waters rolled out in sharp waves. Black fins slipped parallel to the causeway, getting closer and… stopping.

“But sharks can’t stop,” whispered Ash. It was one of those freaky bits of useless information he knew.

Then slick, dark bodies with leathery skins and wide, long snouts clambered up on to the path ahead of them. Their beady black eyes were still fresh with desire and bloodlust, and in their grinning mouths Ash saw the serrated teeth of the ultimate predator. Their faces shrank and narrowed as their tails split into legs, melding into human limbs. Their side flippers grew longer and thicker and were soon strong human arms. They resembled humans, and would have passed easily for them from a distance, but their eyes stayed the soulless black buttons of a shark, and their teeth remained ferociously wicked.

The leader of the sharks shook off the worst of the seawater. He picked a string of red flesh from his teeth and tossed it into the sea.

Savage stood his ground, immobile, as the rakshasa approached. Whatever else Savage was, he was not a coward.

The shark-man grinned, a smirk that could have fitted Savage’s head into it with space to spare.

“Looking good, Alex,” said the shark-man.

“The same could be said about you, you old rascal,” replied Savage. “Still chewing up Australian surfers?”

Then Savage and the shark rakshasa laughed and embraced.

After he greeted Savage and the other rakshasas, the shark-man came over to Ash. His grey skin shimmered with seawater, and Ash saw gill slits on either side of his neck. The rakshara frowned and walked round Ash, inspecting him from all angles. “Tell me, how exactly did this piece of fish bait kill our king?”

“I agree, he’s not much to look at,” said Savage.

“Hey!” Ash said. What did they mean, ‘not much to look at’?

Half the pack remained in shark form, circling in the water. The other shark rakshasas waited ahead of the party. Of all the rakshasas Ash had seen, they were the least human, their skins thick and scaly. Two still had back fins, and all looked uncomfortable out of the water, moving unsteadily as they got used to having legs.

The lead shark-man, ignoring Ash, glanced back towards Lanka. “There are a lot of curses still in place. We’ve dismantled the outer ones, but beyond the walls, you’ll have to tread carefully.”

Savage smiled. “I would expect nothing less.”

The sharks dived back into the sea, transforming before they’d even touched the water. Their fins sliced through the green waters and were soon lost among the waves.

“Let’s move,” said Savage.

Ash searched around him. There was sea in every direction. Even if Parvati and Khan were out there somewhere, with the loha-mukhas guarding the causeway and the sharks patrolling the ocean, the chances of them getting to Lanka without being torn limb from limb were pretty negligible.

And –
what curses
?

This was Ravana’s capital. This was the heart of the demon nations. There would be treasure, for sure. Magic? Yeah, pretty damn likely. And none of it would be lying around in easy-to-access locations. The word ‘deadly’ sprang to mind. So did ‘lethal’, ‘fatal’ and ‘extremely hazardous to your health’.

How did he keep ending up in these situations? Ash was going to have a serious talk with his career advisor when he got home.

It took almost half a day to reach Lanka. The sun passed over its zenith and began its descent over the land behind them. The causeway bore signs of extensive damage the closer they got. Great chunks had been broken off and turned to rubble.

With the city walls a mile ahead, the party paused.

“Battle stations,” ordered Savage. One of the loha-mukhas, a monkey, lowered the trunk it had been carrying. Savage took out a leather gun belt and a bandolier that went over his left shoulder and clipped on to the belt just over his right hip. An old German Mauser ‘Broomhandle’ pistol went into the holster across his belly. He jiggled the belt and bandolier, shifting his shoulders until the gear sat comfortably, and then he put on a pair of thin leather gloves, his tiger cane tucked under his arm. The leather creaked as he flexed his fingers and made a fist. Savage caught Ash watching him.

“What did you expect?” Savage asked. “A whip and fedora?”

“Why do you need them? Can’t you just lightning-bolt everyone? Or just teleport us to where we need to go?”

“I could, but I prefer to save my magic for when it’s truly necessary. You’ve seen what happens when I use it.” He gestured to the satchel. “You want to save some of the power in that for Gemma, don’t you?” He peered at the city walls. “And I can’t teleport because I don’t know where to teleport to. I’ve no idea of the layout. The last thing you want is to jump into a wall, half in and half out. Human and brick atoms are not very compatible.”

Savage continued his preparations, checking and loading his pistol, then counting the rounds on his bandolier and spare ammo in the pouches on the belt. He double-knotted the laces of his boots and gave them a tug. “You won’t believe the number of men I’ve seen die on a battlefield because they tripped over their laces.”

Ash scratched his thumb. “It’s the little things that make all the difference, right?”

Savage tapped the cane against his heel. “It’s a shame we’re not on the same side, boy.”

“Yeah, like together we could rule the galaxy.”

“So sad. In my day we would quote Shakespeare or Homer.”

“I can quote Homer. I’ve memorised entire episodes of
The Simpsons
.”

“Master, we are ready.” Jackie stood a few metres away, dressed for a fight. Her arms were protected with stiff steel plates with blades projecting from the forearms. Under her T-shirt, her body was covered in a light tawny fur, revealing her muscles across her shoulders and back. Her thick mane rippled in the wind and long fangs filled her elongated jaw. She’d taken off her shoes so her toes, long and tipped with sharp claws, clicked on the stone. Steel plates covered her thighs and shins.

The five hyena rakshasas were similarly armed, protected on the arms and legs, but not over the torso. Ash realised the armour they wore allowed them to transform safely: wearing something over the body would have either prevented it from working or been excruciatingly painful, as their animal shapes were very different from their human ones.

“Lets move,” ordered Savage. The monkeys hoisted the trunk back up and the party continued towards the city, with Ash walking alongside Savage.

“What are you expecting?” asked Ash. The island ahead of them had been sunk under the seas for thousands of years. What could possibly be alive in there that required all this?

“I’m expecting the worst. I always do. Helps me stay alive,” said Savage.

“What are these curses that shark went on about?”

“After Ravana was killed, his brother, Vibheeshana, took the crown. He was almost as great a magician, but without the passion, without the ambition.”

“What happened?”

“The rakshasas left. Soon the city was empty but for Vibheeshana and his court – noble rakshasas holding on to their faded glory. All rather sad and somewhat pathetic. Then on one fateful night there was a terrible storm. Waves, dozens of metres high, crashed on to the shore, and the land shook with violence. By the time the storm broke, Lanka had vanished.”

“Just like that? It seems very… convenient.”

Savage looked towards the island. “Some say it had only been sustained by Ravana’s magic. With him gone, the island just collapsed. Others believe Vibheeshana himself destroyed it. Who wants to rule an empty kingdom? He was frightened that people would come and try to discover Ravana’s secrets or search for treasure among the ruined palaces. So he laid curses and traps all over the island to deter the greedy, and then as a final precaution sent the entire thing to the bottom of the sea.”

“Sounds like this Vibheeshana was a clever guy.”

The walls of Lanka rose straight from the ocean. The causeway had been reduced to rubble for the last hundred metres, and Ash moved step by step, occasionally having to crawl over the broken slabs, slick with seaweed and covered in sharp coral and shells.

He almost didn’t see that the rest of the party had stopped.

“This is it,” said Savage.

Pearly white walls shimmered in the sunlight. When Ash looked deeper into them, there were a myriad of other colours swirling within: reds, pinks, greens, blues and others, fractured and crystalline, sending multicoloured beams deeper into the infinite space within the stone. The twisting rose-hued stones formed strange, glorious tree-like structures along the battlements, their branches made of coral and their trunks encrusted with barnacles. The city looked like it had become overgrown, but with petrified foliage.

Ash gazed up and up. “Those walls must be fifty metres high at least.” He put his hand against them. Perfectly slick; a total nightmare to climb. “You sure you don’t want to teleport?”

“Please, Ash, assume I’ve planned for this.” Savage turned and faced the sea. “I’d stand back too, if I were you.”

The sea looked perfectly calm.

“Any minute now,” said Savage.

“Right. Any minute.”

There were a few waves.

“Impressive,” said Ash. “Not.”

Then the waves rose and tumbled, white foam spraying along the tops. A huge mass moved under the water, rising. Ash pressed back along the wall, fast.

Metre by metre, a vast head appeared. Seaweed hung off it like green dreadlocks and water ran from its brow. Ash groped for handholds as a three-metre wave fell over everyone on the causeway. Everyone, that is, but Savage.

Ash spat out the salty water. “So that’s what you did with the Jagannath.”

The giant stone creature rose until the water only came up to its waist. Up close, in the daylight, it was still utterly awe-inspiring. The head creaked as it gazed down at Savage.

“Please give me a door,” said Savage. He pointed at a spot in the wall. “Just there.”

A massive fist pounded the walls, over and over again. First tiny lines burst like spiders’ webs over the surface. Then chips shot off in all directions, and long, splintering cracks radiated out from the pummelled surface. The sudden, sharp blows echoed well beyond the other side of the city walls. The smaller loha-mukhas buried their fingers in the broken wall and tore out great chunks of the pearly stone, hurling them into the sea. It took no more than a few minutes before a hole had been made, roughly three metres wide and two metres high. The Jagannath stopped and stood still as seagulls circled round its head.