Tantrics Of Old (55 page)

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Authors: Krishnarjun Bhattacharya

BOOK: Tantrics Of Old
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‘Wait,’ Fayne said suddenly, stopping. Everyone stopped and looked where Fayne was looking. The Howrah Bridge was very close now, and there was something on the Bridge looking at them.

‘What is that?’ Maya asked, squinting.

‘A Demon,’ Fayne said. ‘It’s watching us.’

They stopped and looked at the figure, small in the distance, standing on the edge of the bridge. Then in a moment’s blink, it was gone.

‘Someone blinked,’ Adri said. Fayne nodded quietly. Adri looked at the sibling’s confused faces and explained. ‘
Blinking
is a powerful form of magic that not many creatures are capable of; it’s something that takes a high level of magical power to pull off. It gives one the ability to teleport over short distances, provided someone looking at the teleporter blinks his eyes.’

‘What?’ Gray exclaimed. ‘If we hadn’t blinked the creature couldn’t have teleported?’

‘Yes. That’s how it works. In the moment that you close your eyes, the user gets his opportunity to make the visual jump. Short distances only, but that Demon is now gone.’


Yeteyer
. I don’t like this,’ Fayne said. ‘We should be more careful from now.’

‘When I tell everyone to stare from now, no one blinks their eyes,’ Adri said darkly. ‘If that Demon can blink, it’s dangerous.’

They moved slowly, cautiously, but were not interrupted or attacked. Fayne was more alert than anyone had ever seen him be. The usually calm assassin was positively jumpy now, increasing the sense of threat and danger and suitably scaring the siblings. ‘Kali did not mention
which side
the cave was on,’ Gray said after a while. They had taken a small mud road after the buildings gradually ended and were walking through an abandoned slum towards the base of the Bridge.

‘We might have to cross the Bridge, then.’

Adri nodded. ‘That will not be easy. We’ll be sitting ducks for anything that might be stalking us.’

They were, however, in luck. As they crossed the slum and reached the River bank, they could see the black outline of a cave carved into a large rock beneath the Bridge. Beside them lay the mighty Ganga—unaffected and unperturbed by all that was happening in the Old City, continuing to flow with all its power. There were no ferries, no fishermen. A couple of abandoned boats floated in the current, held in place by ropes. They walked slowly towards the cave, looking up at the imposing, powerful Howrah Bridge, standing guard over this part of Old Kolkata, one of the largest magical hubs in the Old City.

‘That is how Pestilence can hide his aura,’ Adri said. ‘By living beneath the Bridge it won’t be detected by outsiders, or the government. The Bridge sends out too much magic, completely overshadowing the Horseman.’

‘Why will Pestilence help you?’ Maya asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Adri said.

‘Are you sure big brother Death won’t be visiting him?’ Gray asked nervously.

‘I don’t think they can meet each other while the seals are unbroken,’ Adri replied. ‘At least, that’s what the theory is behind a seal curse.’

Adri began feeling a new vibe as they approached the cave. A new, powerful, magical vibe, one he had never felt before in his life. It did not radiate of power like Death’s, but had a different taste to it. It spoke to him of hidden things and secrets.

‘Curious,’ Adri mumbled.

He had the shooter he had been using, outfitted with holy rounds, but he knew he could not possibly battle the Horseman if things got out of hand. No, it would be best to go in unarmed. And alone. They stood in front of the cave now. It was dark and silent, and nothing seemed to exist beyond its doorway. It was large, large enough for any Demon to enter, yet unnoticeable from a distance, almost camouflaged among the other large rocks which were around it. This was where the second Horseman lived.

Adri handed Gray his shooter and took off his supply bag. ‘I have to go alone,’ he said. Maya was about to protest, but he caught her eye before she could. ‘I
have
to.’ She looked at him, and finally nodded. Adri looked up at the sky. The sun was hidden, and dark clouds were gathering, faster than before. Taking a deep breath, he entered the cave.

Complete darkness greeted him. He took a small step, testing the footing the ground offered—solid rock, stable. Slowly, he began to walk, one hand on a wall for guidance. Spirit vision was always an easy way out, but now Adri did not want to have anything to do with the Wraith. He did not have to bear the darkness for long, however. Soon, a faint light appeared in the tunnel, and he realised that he had been on a gentle slope, going downwards. He walked faster now, as his eyes got accustomed to the light. Then he saw the torch. Wall mounted, magical fire burning within. He passed it and walked on, crossing another similar torch a while later.

His body began to itch slowly, everything except the right arm. He stopped and scratched—the itching flared up, then ebbed, but did not leave. He looked at his hand in the light of the next torch and drew a sharp breath; it was covered in an angry red rash. Then, before his very eyes, his fingernails started to grow slowly and a general tiredness crept in.

‘What’s happening?’ he mumbled.

Nothing good
, the Wraith said.
Get a move on, and hurry, fool
.

Angry as he was at the Wraith, the advice was sound. Adri started walking faster as the itchiness slowly spread to his scalp. He scratched his hair, and a clump of hair came away in his fist. He was losing hair. He started running now; the tunnel went on and on and on, as did the torches.

‘Where is the end?’ Adri shouted, running.

He felt his face. Boils. The panic in him rose. He nails were quite long now, which helped him scratch himself all over, but he was horrified with what was happening to him. He ran on and on, then finally saw the door. He ran into the door, pushing it and hoping it would open. It stood firm. He took a step back and observed it in the light of the torch above it—a door cut directly out of the bark of some great, ancient tree. It looked tremendously heavy, with gnarled texture and millions of lines across it. It had no knocker. Adri used his right hand to knock, and was surprised momentarily by how strong his armoured hand was as he thumped on the door loudly and audibly. The sound resonated in the tunnel for a while. Then silence. Adri was going to knock again when the door swung open on its own accord, softly, soundlessly. Adri peeped inside, and then entered.

He was now in a large circular room, well lit by over twenty to thirty torches burning fiercely. He looked around, ignoring the burning that had now started in his skin. This was some kind of a laboratory. Crystal beakers and test tubes filled the shelves along the walls, every single one sporting its own shade of liquid and gas. There were no labels or notes or files to be seen anywhere—the Horseman seemed to commit everything to memory. The room was wooden, as was the floor, and apart from tables filled with more equipment, more burners, beakers, and devices Adri had no possibility of recognising, there was nothing else in the room other than a large throne at the far end. A throne made of pure crystal, glimmering like a million diamonds in the firelight.

Pestilence sat on the throne, watching him. The Horseman was shorter than Death yet taller than Adri, even though it sat. It had a thin frame, with long, bony arms and legs—over which it wore grey robes that flowed softly around it, fuelled by an unseen force. Its skin was deep yellow in colour, and was in a constant flux—things appeared on its skin immediately, to be replaced by something else the next second; things like boils, spikes, scales, and rashes that came and went with liquid rhythm, a process that seemed as natural as breathing. Its face was that of a young man—a sharp, leering yellow face with blood-red eyes and fangs that glistened as it stared at Adri silently. Above its large forehead was wild mane-like hair, growing in every direction possible at the same time, the colour a bright and vivid red. Like its brother Death, its hands and feet were enveloped by gauntlets and mail boots that shone dully in the light.

‘A visitor!’ It screeched in the Old Tongue. ‘Ah, pardon me,
Visitors
. How curious.’ Its voice was an excited one, and gave Adri the impression of someone trying to control his thrill through a voice long torn up.

‘Pestilence,’ Adri said, looking at him in unsettlement.

‘My aura is not good for you, human,’ the Horseman said. ‘You must have contracted quite the collection of diseases by now. I do love visitors, but you will die if you stay here for more than a few minutes.’

‘I have come to talk to you about your brother, Death,’ Adri spoke.

Pestilence’s red eyes widened. ‘Oh, wonderful!’ it said in delight. It opened a palm and gestured towards Adri, calling something back. Adri felt something lift from him and rush away towards the Horseman. Immediately, he felt better. The itching and pain was gone, the rashes had left; he knew his hair had stopped falling, his nails had stopped growing. Pestilence closed its palm and then twirled its fingers.

‘There,’ it said. ‘It has been quite a while since I did that for someone. But then, I
do
love to hear news about my brothers! But tell me first, who told you of this place? Was it Death? But then I doubt that; he’s not very
talkative
.’

‘I was told about your location by Kali, the Tantric,’ Adri said.

‘Ah, Kali. Yes, I have heard about this Necromancer in the
Bishakto Jongol
, though I haven’t ever bothered to pay him a visit. He’s quite dull, isn’t he? All he does is worship the Dark Goddess, when there are
so many
truths to be found around us. How is Kali doing?’

‘Well, I hope,’ Adri said.

‘Ah, yes,’ Pestilence said. ‘When we do not see someone for a while all we can do is hope, is it not? Like I keep hoping for my brothers, and then you come up and talk about Death!’ It grinned. ‘Not the brother I’m closest to, I might confess, but it’s still remarkable to hear from him!’

‘No, you misunderstood. I am not a messenger from Death,’ Adri said. ‘I have come to talk about him.’

Pestilence raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh, a discussion then? Wonderful, but you better keep your points well in your head. I warn you, I’m damn good at debate!’

‘I am the last soul Death has to claim in order to break its seal,’ Adri said. ‘The Apocalypse might be what will unite the four of you, but it will destroy everything my ancestors have worked to build. Naturally, I cannot allow it while it is in my capabilities; I have decided that your brother Death must be killed if possible. I want to kill him myself and forever stop the coming of Doomsday.’

Pestilence was silent for a while. It breathed gently, looking at Adri.

‘My, my,’ it said finally. ‘Cutting to the chase, I see. Did you notice my moment of silence a moment ago? Did you?’

‘Err, yes.’

‘I was contemplating, human. I was considering extracting your soul right here and sending it to Death as a gift, perhaps.’

Adri took a moment before he actually managed to ask the next question. ‘And what is your decision?’

Pestilence scratched its head. ‘I don’t know, human. You amaze me and intrigue me. You come to where I live and declare your intention of executing my brother. What is your point?’

‘I don’t know how,’ Adri said. ‘Death is old and powerful. I want you to tell me his weaknesses.’

Pestilence laughed, a high screech that hurt Adri’s ears. ‘WHAT?’ it asked in mock disbelief, and laughed again. ‘Is this for real?’

‘I want your help,’ Adri said, grim.

‘And why would I help you?’ Pestilence asked, still recovering from his laugh.

‘Others have asked me the same, and my reply remains the same—I don’t know. All I know is someone with wisdom told me you might, and it was the best shot I had.’ Adri looked down at the wooden floor. ‘I want to find a way, and it is tough. Time is short. The other presence you felt in me; it is taking over. Soon there will be nothing left of me. While I still have control, I want to do what I can. What I must.’

‘You are honest with me. Why is that? Do you think I respect honesty, or that I will help you if you are honest? Maybe a nice clean lie would have gotten you the information you needed, and maybe you would’ve gotten away safely as well.’

‘I’ve lied a lot in my life, Horseman,’ Adri said, looking up into Pestilence’s leering gaze. ‘I’ve lied myself out of every situation possible, and I’ve lied whenever it has been convenient for me. But I think I’m changing now, after the things I have done of late, after the things I have seen of late, after I know what it going to happen to me in the end. I’m not going to lie anymore.’

‘Hah! Your noble air burns me!’ Pestilence cried in mock pain. ‘We have a hero in our presence today, it seems!’

‘I am not a hero,’ Adri said quietly.

Pestilence’s eyes flashed red; a sharp black coloured tongue licked its fangs as it looked at Adri.

‘You have a very curious web,’ it said, its tone more serious.

‘Huh?’ Adri exclaimed. ‘A web?’

‘It is
The
Web, rather,’ the Horseman said. ‘It is simply the structure behind; it is what connects everyone and everything. Things move in it, things are born and things are finished. It spans across existence, stretching from life to beyond death, ensnaring the fabric of time itself in its mesh. Everyone is in the web, human. You, me, Death, your comrades who wait for you outside. It is something of amazing complexity, something certain people have tried to study unsuccessfully, withering away their lives. It is something certain creatures have tried to gain power over, only to be trapped in horrific situations for all eternity. The web defines a person, human—the web will change according to who is present in it and at what time. When I see you, I see the web around you—and it tells me everything I need to know about you.’

‘It is the first time I’m hearing of this,’ Adri said.

‘Even for a Reborn, you are not that old yet,’ Pestilence smirked. ‘There will be many things you have not heard, many things you have not mastered. I can see you have hidden power, but that is not enough to defeat my older brother, human.’

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