* * * * *
The Kamaloka Palace in the Naraka Hell Plane
Dancers moved throughout the hall, gyrating to music being played by minstrels, but pain seeped through their strained smiles as they swayed to the melodies. Each step made them wince as the feel of knives pierced their skin with each footfall. More than one glanced down now and again to see if the floor was covered with their blood.
As the musicians stroked their violins and blew into their flutes, blisters continuously erupted on their fingers and lips. A mixture of blood and pus oozed down their hands and faces and onto their instruments, collecting in pools on the floor. Still they played on, never stopping.
The Master’s slaves moved through the room, each with their own burdens to bear. Some blindly scuffled along the floor with rags, cleaning up the bloody secretions of the minstrels, while others carried heavy loads of food on their crippled shoulders, only to move them from one table to another, over and over for centuries on end. Still others cared for their master’s pet kravyadas, ruru animals, who tore at them and ripped at their flesh.
Mara’s minions, those deemed close enough to mingle with their master, sat on couches and coupled with those around them, but their lovemaking was frenzied and unsatisfying, never reaching any plateau of satisfaction. Each being in this hell plane, in Naraka, had their own burden to bear, each their own punishment.
Mara lounged on a red velvet throne, one leg thrown over the gold plaited arm as he patted the hair of a slave at his feet--a timid, naked girl, who shivered uncontrollably from the ice pillow she lay upon.
Tanha approached him, stepping casually over a screaming man who writhed on the ground, while a guard pierced his body with fiery spears. She gave her father a scornful look, ready to start the argument again.
Mara stared at his oldest daughter with a mixture of anger and amused disbelief. “This again? What do you mean, you want to leave? And where do you intend to go?”
Tanha eyed him, her thick black hair cascading in waves down her back. She radiated such desire that the minions kept glancing in her direction because of her pull on their very being. Their want and need for her tore at them.
“I told you this already, Father. I want to go live in the human realm.”
Mara laughed derisively, and the sound echoed throughout the hall. The dancers ceased swaying for a moment.
“Continue!” Mara ordered, while guards whipped the girls into obedience, their struggled dance resuming again. He turned back to Tanha. “You think by moving to the human domain you’ll be free of me? No matter what you do, you can’t ever leave me, Daughter. I’ll always be here. I’m alive in every single man in existence, as are you. You’re ‘Desire’, the kilesa, which defiles every man’s body. You can never escape that. It’s who you are, what your essence is and no matter where you reside, it’s a part of you.”
Tanha frowned. “Even humans don’t remain in our domains forever, Father. Once their negative karma is used up they can move on to the other levels. Why can’t I? There must be more than this. I’m more than just a sexual vessel. I feel it.”
Mara shook his head in disgust. “Why would you want more than the perfection of who you are and what you have here? I let you rule the Desire kingdom and you wish to throw it away as if it means nothing? Look around at the life of luxury you lead. Any desire you have, any need and craving and it’s yours. You want for nothing here. I’m telling you this, Tanha, if you leave you’ll never have the peace and enlightenment you seek. Your very being won’t allow it. Every man who sees you will fall at your feet. They will crave and desire you, not even knowing why. No human will ever be true to you, because they’ll only be influenced by who and what you are. Your essence stains your soul and no matter what you do, or how many lifetimes you try to live, you will never be able to escape your lineage.”
Tanha removed a strand of exquisite black and pink pearls twisted in her hair and laid her father’s gift at his feet.
Mara glared at her. “You leave and I promise I’ll destroy you in every lifetime you try to lead. Don’t challenge me, Daughter.”
Tanha turned to her beautiful sisters sitting intertwined on the divan next to her while naked slaves brushed their hair and massaged essential oils onto their already silky skin.
“Will you join me, sisters?”
Their expressions were patronizing. “We know who and what we are, Tanha. Accept it.”
Tanha shook her head and turned back to her father.
“Well? What’s your decision?” he asked.
With a smirk, Tanha turned on her heel and left the hell kingdom behind her, the furious bellows of her father resonating through all the thirty-one realms.
* * * * *
Desmond yelled, releasing Kelsey’s burning wrists. He stared at her, seeing her for the first time. Who she really was.
Rising, Kelsey stared into Desmond’s eyes. “I know who and what I am and know what I can do.” She moved back into the pavilion, power radiating from her skin. She turned her face to the sky. “Come and get me, Father!” Her voice boomed across the battlefield, magnified a thousand fold.
A thunderous roar rocked the heavens as an immense beast tore through the opening. Riding a winged, multi-horned elephant, and he, having a thousand arms, Mara streaked across the land towards Kelsey.
Yes, I know you well, Father. She ran to the clearing, her sword drawn to meet him head on.
Other demons tried to attack her and their own master struck them down with his arrows. “Leave her! She’s mine!”
Desmond darted in front of her, but Kelsey pushed him back. “No! Get back. This is my fight.”
At the very moment Mara was about to strike his daughter down with the thousands of weapons he held in his arms, the brightest of lights shot out from the cavernous hole. Kelsey froze. A voice echoed to her.
“Child, be like Siddhartha. Call on the Earth Goddess.”
Yes, the Earth Goddess! Kelsey raised her hands to the sky and screamed, “Phra Mae Thoranee, I beseech to you! I bear your witness!”
The Earth Goddess sprung from the firmament, towering over the land. She released her enormous mane of hair. A torrent of water flowed from her body, flooding the planes and drowning the monsters fighting below.
Mara laughed, scornfully. “A pretty little trick, but it won’t help. You can bear as much witness as you want, Tanha, but you’re no Siddhartha.”
Another voice echoed across the land, coming from the very air she breathed. “It’s never too late, child. Awaken to the truth. He can’t touch you any longer. He can’t hurt you or hold sway over you. He has no more hold on your soul. Awake my child and you’ll be released. Just like me.”
Siddhartha… Her mind opened, understanding of all things flooded her brain and her essence. With an unnatural calm, Kelsey turned to her triumphant father, watching as he made to strike her down, but he suddenly hesitated. The look in her eyes told him all he needed to know.
“No!” he shrieked. “I won’t succumb!” Mara drew his arrows, prepared to fire, but Kelsey dropped her sword.
Desmond ran to her, shaking her. “Kelsey, protect yourself! He’s going to kill you!” He drew his sword and faced Mara.
Kelsey shook her head, a strange, wistful smile on her face. “Don’t fight, Desmond. Be like Siddhartha.” She called out, her voice echoing, resonating throughout the land to her warriors. “Drop your weapons! We don’t need to fight any longer. Remember who and what we are. We are protectors of this land who have forsaken all to protect this realm. Awaken! Be like Siddhartha and we will be released from fear. He can’t touch us if we believe!”
With a belief and faith so powerful no other words needed to be spoken, the thousands of warriors of Xanadu instantly dropped their weapons, letting the demons attack them. Desmond dropped his own sword and with a desperate look at Kelsey, stood silently next to her.
Mara mocked her. “It won’t work, Tanha. You’re no Buddha. You have sent everyone
to their deaths and killed humanity.” With that he sent a thousand arrows into the heart of his child.
As each of them touched her, they transformed into flowers.
“No!” Mara screamed. Hundreds upon hundreds of fiery gashes and slash marks began shredding his body, as if each fired arrow had been a knife point piercing his own skin. Smoke and fire poured from his mouth.
Throughout the land, the demon’s victorious shrieks were replaced with horrendous cries of pain as one by one they transformed first into flames, and then into flowers.
His body dripping with blood and gore, Mara leaned forwards and grabbed Kelsey. Holding her in his pincer-like grip, she only smiled at him, her expression peaceful. “It’s over, Father. I don’t fear you any longer. You have no hold over me, or anyone else in this realm. I’m finally free of you. Go back to your domain. You have no power here.”
With a hideous howl that echoed across the valley, Mara exploded into a million bloody shards, his own soul shooting back towards the gap, along with all the thousands of other beasts he’d brought with him.
In mere seconds, the battle was over. The remaining members of Xanadu stood by silently watching the last of the demons disappear. The spidery streaks of blackness evaporated from the heavens as the gap closed, leaving colorful ribbons of pinks and greens rippling gently across the sky.
And the entire land was perfumed with rose scented petals.
Epilogue
ONE MONTH LATER
They strolled hand in hand through the ancient stone courtyard. The walkway was strewn with flowers and had magnificent views of the Piazza San Marco and its vast lagoon. The hotel was decadent and stunning with its two 15th century buildings linked together via a floral-scented passageway.
It had been a wonderful day. They visited castles and museums, had dinner at a lovely little bistro and an after dinner Bellini at the infamous Henry’s Bar. After a short boat ride back from St. Marks, where they stared at the stars in the night sky, they finally arrived at their exquisitely decorated hotel suite.
Kelsey stood on the balcony that looked out at the open lagoon. She felt Desmond behind her and her stomach tingled in anticipation. He’d been so chaste with her the entire trip, trying hard to make sure he did everything just right.
After the battle in Xanadu, she awoke in the monastery. She explained to the monks what had transpired and then became a fixture at Desmond’s side. The monks had bandaged his leg and a doctor from town was on the way to treat him. Neither of them asked what had become of Raul and the monks never shared that bit of information with them.
Kelsey was revered now by the monks, by the arahants in Xanadu and by all the members of the court. Her sacrifice over the centuries and the defeat of her father had made her a true Buddha, but she wanted none of it, only wishing to finally live a full life on the human plane and take whatever the fates had in store for her--just like everyone else. For the first time in her eternity, her destiny was her own to live. Mara could no longer touch her.
Desmond’s voice was soft as he caressed her cheek. “This is how it should have happened with us the first time.” He leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips. The first time he had kissed her since the Garter’s fiasco in Miami.
She sighed contentedly and wrapped her arms around his neck.
For the hundredth time, she wondered at her good fortune. Her life had finally come full circle. She had avenged the deaths of her parents, she had saved humanity… but more importantly, she had saved her own soul. She knew who she once was and who she was now and she no longer felt torn. Now she could just be who she wanted to be and she was content to let her feelings and desires lead her, no longer conflicted. It was the most free she had ever been.
Desmond whispered in her ear. “Ti Fasalati titidalaah tam, wihalatkla.” He flinched and his eyes widened in surprise.
A flush rushed to Kelsey’s cheeks. “You’re falling in love with me? How did you know how to say that?”
“I… I don’t know, Kelsey. It just… came to me.” He gently ran his lips against her neck and then with a swift motion, picked her up, and laid her on the bed.
“Ti titidalaah aha, titlashaphah,” she breathed. (I love you too, my Light.)
As he covered her mouth with his, neither of them noticed the air begin to shimmer around them or the sound of a lone dungchen as it tolled its haunting wail through the open window.
The End
Want to read more from Elyse Salpeter? Check out the first chapter of Book #2 in her Kelsey Porter Series, which you can buy here: https://amzn.to/2wczJWb
THE QUEST OF THE EMPTY TOMB
Chapter 1
THE PIER
“Dammit, they were supposed to be here two days ago. Gisborne, I’m telling you, the intel was wrong.”
It was two a.m. and the detectives were back at the docks for the fifth night in a row. A rash of illegal and classified weaponry making its way to the United States from the Middle East had been reported and tracked to this location. They’d been told another shipment was supposed to have arrived two days prior, but it still hadn’t shown.
Detective Sean Flanagan swiped at the sweat dripping from his brow. It was hot on this breezeless August night and his partner knew he wasn’t happy. “We’ve been had. It had to have come in somewhere else.”
Desmond stood on the edge of the platform and examined the dock, searching for anything he might have missed. The abandoned warehouses were silent and empty, and the pier was quiet. Gentle waves from the Hudson River lapped gently against the broken and decayed planks. An occasional coo from a dove, or a flap of pigeon wings, were the only sounds to mar the silence and tranquility of the evening.
“We definitely missed something,” Desmond mused. “Sharif was sure it was coming in here. He tracked the shipment leaving the Middle East.”
“Sure, my ass,” Flanagan snorted. “Wheedling the info out of a bunch of drunken Syrians isn’t what I’d call ‘sure.’ Probably blitzed out of his mind on Barada beer the entire time. Not so hard when you’re partying on the government’s dime.”
Desmond exhaled. “Let’s do a final check of the wharfs on Harper’s Row and then call it a night.”
The detectives moved across the jetty and made their way downtown to the last set of piers.
A lone figure in black emerged from the side of one of the derelict buildings and watched the officers leave. He was tall and muscular, and his military camo gear covered his body so tightly every single inch of his imposing physique could be discerned.
Once the detectives were out of his field of vision, the figure hoisted on a bulky backpack and silently moved to the edge of the pier. Framed by a face mask, piercing hazel eyes stared down into the black waters of the Hudson River. A shuffling noise caused him to draw his gun, but it was only a dove.
He holstered his pistol, dropped the sack to the ground and removed a small device from the side pocket. With extreme care he lowered the unit soundlessly into the water. Then he took out his cell phone and dialed a number. From where he stood, he could see the faint yellow glow of a sensor illuminate beneath the surface of the river.
Seconds later a scuba diver silently surfaced.
The man retrieved the sensor, returned it to his backpack, and then grabbed a rope the diver held out to him. He pulled hard, arm muscles bulging with the weight as a large container, half the size of his own body, emerged from the water. He hoisted it onto the landing and with a crowbar he removed from his pack, ripped it open. With a knife, he skillfully sliced through the packaging and nodded when he saw the ten illegal Gyrojets nestled within. Developed in the 1960s, these modified rifles were vastly different than regular pistols. With traditional guns, the bullet reached peak velocity inside the gun barrel. Gyrojets fired using a solid propellant motor, which meant the rounds didn’t reach peak velocity until roughly twenty yards out of the muzzle. The smuggler stared at the guns, noting they’d made the added modifications he ordered. A guidance s
ystem with directional control, along with stabilizing fins. These were basically lethal rocket launchers in pistol form. Untraceable, silent and with zero recoil. Perfect, deadly weapons. He hefted one of the boxes of 13mm ammo, moved aside a few more packages, and frowned. Something was missing. He glanced back at the diver and spoke in Syrian.
The diver took out his mouthpiece and answered. Seconds later, the smuggler reached back into the container and removed two of the guns, laying them gently on the pier. Then he pushed his hand deeper into the packaging. His fingers closed on an eight-inch tall glass vial. He pulled it up and examined the live plant clipping trapped inside. Silphium. The yellow flowers of this ‘thought to be’ extinct species were just starting to bud. He placed the tube in his pocket.
The diver said something else and the smuggler reached into his backpack, removing a hefty wad of bills that he’d secured in a sealed, waterproof bag. He handed the payment to the diver. Without another word, the man took it, secured it to his person, and disappeared back into the water.
The smuggler replaced the guns, closed the container and hoisted it to his shoulder. He quickly made his way inside the warehouse where he’d stashed his other supplies. It was one of his largest arsenals in the city.
He pulled back the hidden panel and punched in the code. With a hiss, the door opened and he descended into the sub-basement. At the bottom, he dropped the container with the Gyrojets into a storage container and then keyed in another series of codes to open the next entrance. With care he took out the vial and carried it across the antiseptic steel corridor and into the greenhouse.
“You have it?” The question came from a hulk of a man bent over a microscope. He didn’t glance up.
The Hunt for Xanadu Page 24
