The Simoqin Prophecies

by Samit Basu

  Gaam gave the rest some Weather-All potion to drink. Then he and Asvin rolled aside the rock that blocked the mouth of the cave. The entrance was covered by two hundred years of snow, but it took Mantric and Maya only ten minutes to burn through it. They set a cloaking spell on the hole they made in the snow, so that that it would look like the rest of the mountainside. Putting on white cloaks, they walked through the white illusion on to the flank of the mountain and began their climb towards the monastery.

  The Phalanx spy in the monastery, Chen, had written that the Gauntlet was hidden in a chamber underneath a courtyard in the southwest corner of the monastery. No one was allowed to enter the chamber apart from the Grand Lama, and Chen had never seen what was inside it, guarding the Gauntlet.

  The key to the chamber was kept in a small room outside it, with one guard. There were stairs leading up from that room, which led to a small trapdoor that opened right in the middle of the courtyard. The courtyard was empty and well lit with hundreds of Alocacti, and closed in with high walls on all four sides. At regular intervals along these walls were small rooms where skilled archers sat day and night, their bows aimed at the empty courtyard, ceaselessly watching and listening for the slightest shadow or whisper that would warn them of an intruder’s presence.

  The Emperor’s guards, the fearsome warriors called the Green Serpents, were guarding the monastery on a rotating basis. Every hour, they would shift positions, and one guard would march to the trapdoor, relieving the guard inside of his duty. Before the shift in the room with the key, the guard would be patrolling the south wall of the courtyard. Here the wall was thickest, because outside was the snow-covered mountainside. It was towards this wall that they were heading.

  ‘Remember, we can’t start before eight,’ whispered Mantric as they reached the wall and huddled together beside it. ‘That’s when Chen will be by this wall.’

  ‘I know,’ grumbled Gaam, quickly unpacking the bag that held the explosives. But his frown changed to a gleeful smile as he tucked a few sticks of the explosive in the snow against the wall. ‘I love blowing things up,’ he cackled.

  ‘What’s the explosive called?’ whispered Maya.

  ‘This is no ordinary firework-powder,’ said Gaam. ‘It’s a new vaman invention, called… well, it translates to Inside Job. But let’s call it Implosive for clarity. I don’t think it’s ever been used above ground before – it’s really powerful, I’m only going to use a little bit.’

  ‘Won’t anyone hear the bang? And won’t there be bits of the wall lying around?’

  ‘It’s supposed to be completely silent. And it’s not really an explosive – it makes rock implode, sucking it inwards into a vacuum. What they do is…’

  ‘Quiet,’ hissed Mantric. Gaam nodded apologetically.

  ‘Stay back when I light the fuse,’ he whispered. The others nodded. They waited in silence.

  When the faint sound of a gong somewhere inside the monastery announced it was eight, Gaam lit the fuse and they scurried backwards and waited. They watched as the little flame burned its way down the fuse. Then there was a soft plop and a huge dent appeared in the wall, as if someone had scooped the stone out with a spoon. Gaam ran up to it, placed more Implosive in the dent and scurried back. A short while later, there was another plop, and the hole in the wall grew deeper.

  The stone wall around the Wu Sen monastery was at least twenty feet thick and it took quite some time before Gaam’s tunnel ran right through it. The tunnel was just wide enough for two people to crawl through, side by side.

  As the last little bundle of Implosive imploded, the tunnel was flooded with light. They had burrowed right through the wall, and the white Alocactus light from the courtyard shone in Gaam’s face. Mantric quickly rushed into the tunnel and set a cloaking spell on each end. They sat in the dark tunnel waiting for a signal from Chen.

  A few minutes later there was a scraping sound outside the mouth of the tunnel, and a little whistle. Chen had been waiting for them, and had seen the mouth of the tunnel suddenly appear in the wall before Mantric closed it with the cloaking spell. They did not dare to look outside in case anyone else saw them.

  Gaam crawled out of the other end of the tunnel and started back towards the cave where the mirror stood. They had agreed that he would stay near the mirror, to protect it and warn the rest in case there was unforeseen danger on the mountain.

  ‘Chen doesn’t know we’re using the Blur. When he walks to the trapdoor, walk with him. Don’t talk to him until the trapdoor closes,’ whispered Mantric to Asvin. Then Maya and Mantric cast the Blur on Asvin. At first Maya cast her spell, and Asvin’s shape became hazy and blurry. Then Mantric added his power, and Asvin vanished.

  Maya and Mantric took out small, hollow tubes and stuck them through Mantric’s wall-illusion. They would have to be able to see Asvin for the Blur to stay on – there would appear to be two holes in the wall, but that was a risk they would have to take. They peered through the tubes silently at the courtyard, and saw Chen standing outside the tunnel.

  Asvin crawled through the fake wall out of the tunnel, stood up and tapped Chen lightly on the shoulder. Chen started violently for an instant, but then his training showed as he regained his composure almost immediately. He looked straight ahead and nodded his head slowly. Mantric and Maya could see Asvin, wandering around Chen, looking impatient, because Chen would not go to the trapdoor until nine o clock, when it was his turn to guard the room with the key. They waited.

  At nine the gong rang again. Chen marched towards the trapdoor as another guard walked out from the room underground, and went to a room at the opposite corner of the courtyard, where he would be thoroughly searched, to see if he had stolen the key. The Green Serpents were not taking any chances.

  Chen reached the trapdoor. He lifted it up, and waited for a second. Asvin, correctly interpreting this as a sign that he was to descend first, quickly walked down the stairs. As soon as he passed out of the spellbinders’ sight, he became visible again. Chen closed the trapdoor behind him quickly, and climbed down the stairs after Asvin.

  They reached the bottom of the stairs. There was nothing in the room except a single torch on the wall, and a golden key that lay in the centre of a marble table. There was a richly decorated door on the south wall of the room.

  ‘You don’t look like a spellbinder,’ said Chen.

  ‘I’m not a spellbinder,’ said Asvin. ‘I am – ’

  ‘Sorry. Shouldn’t have spoken,’ said Chen. ‘The key on the table is the key to that door. I think the Gauntlet is inside.’

  ‘Stop!’ he hissed, as Asvin strode forward and reached for the key. Asvin froze.

  ‘You can’t just take the key,’ said Chen, looking annoyed. ‘It’s protected. Look at the ceiling.’

  Asvin looked up and saw a creeper entwined around a square wire on the ceiling, the dimensions of which were the same as the table on which the key lay.

  ‘Those are mewlips,’ said Chen. ‘There are silk threads connecting the table to the wire. They’re very thin, which is why you didn’t see them. The slightest touch on a thread will make the mewlips scream their bulbs off, bringing every guard on this mountain running to this room.’

  Asvin looked harder and saw the thin threads shimmering very faintly in the firelight. There was enough space between the threads for a hand to slip through, though.

  ‘Your hands are too big,’ said Chen.

  He gingerly put his arm through the threads and extracted the key.

  ‘If you could get the key all along,’ said Asvin, ‘why didn’t you steal the Gauntlet?’

  ‘There are a hundred reasons. None of which I owe you,’ snapped Chen, ‘This is not the time for chit-chat. Go.’

  Asvin put the golden key in the keyhole. It slid open, and he walked in, drawing his sword. The door closed immediately after he entered. In the outer room, Chen saw the key disappear from the keyhole and reappear on the marble table. He grimaced. The Silver Phalanx d
idn’t like magic.

  Asvin looked around the little room as the door closed. There didn’t seem to be any monsters crouching in hidden corners – in fact, there were no hidden corners. The room was completely bare except for a golden statue of the Shanti-Joddha, which was smiling benignly at him. Its eyes were glowing with wisdom and understanding, and Asvin, suddenly feeling embarrassed to be standing in front of the holy man’s statue with a naked sword in his hand, sheathed the Sword of Raka. There was no sign of the Gauntlet.

  He walked around the room, tapping the walls, but found nothing.

  ‘What you seek is hidden,’ said a voice suddenly. Asvin snapped around but saw no one.

  ‘Sit down, my child, and lay down your burden. You seem to be carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.’ The voice was calm and soothing. It came from the statue of the Shanti-Joddha.

  As if in a dream, Asvin sat down in front of the statue in the lotus position. A part of his mind screamed at him to hurry up, to tear the room to shreds and find the Gauntlet, but the voice of the Shanti-Joddha’s statue was impossible to resist. Asvin closed his eyes and listened.

  It spoke of peace and harmony, of wisdom and truth, of karma and salvation. Asvin slipped deeper and deeper into a trance. He felt ready to renounce everything, to spend the rest of his life here in the monastery listening to these wonderful words. After some time the words blended into one another, and it seemed to Asvin that he heard celestial music, and beautiful lights shone in his eyes. He would stay in this room forever, he would be one with the universe, he would give up his foolish and violent quest…

  My quest!

  Asvin’s eyes snapped open. I was under a spell. This must be a trap. I’ve been here for half an hour at least. Poor Maya, waiting in that cramped tunnel.

  He stood up and looked around wildly.

  The voice stopped speaking and sighed.

  ‘But you will not listen to reason, will you?’ it said. Asvin looked hard at the statue. Something about the calm eyes scared him. He felt as if the walls were closing in on him.

  ‘Very well,’ said the voice. ‘If you will not listen, you will not listen. You must feel you are ready to make your own decisions. The paths are clear to you, and you know which one you wish to walk. So be it.’

  The statue’s hands were laid on its lap, palms upwards and open. A white stone, tear-drop-shaped, appeared in one palm. A black stone, similarly shaped but inverted, appeared in the other.

  ‘Tell me, then. What do you want?’

  Asvin looked from black stone to white stone to black stone again. What does it mean? He wondered. Black or white? Which one do I choose?

  He stared at the two stones. What was he supposed to do? Black or white?

  Perhaps white signifies light and black darkness, he thought. Good. Evil.

  ‘The white stone,’ he said.

  The Shanti-Joddha smiled.

  ‘Hasty,’ said the voice. It sounded smug.

  Asvin felt sudden terror as the room turned white around him and disappeared. There was a flash of light, a feeling of being dragged through space, and then silence. He opened his eyes.

  He now stood in the middle of the courtyard, on top of the trapdoor.

  He was visible.

  Time seemed to slow down for Asvin. The sound of the clanging alarm-gongs seemed to last for hours. He heard each individual bow twang above him, he saw each arrow sail slowly across the air towards him, he felt them shudder, one after another, into his armour.

  His magical armour.

  In the wall, time moved very fast for Mantric and Maya. They saw Asvin a few seconds after he materialized above the trapdoor. They quickly set the Blur on him and he disappeared. In the few seconds that he had been visible, Asvin’s chest had begun to bear a startling resemblance to a porcupine.

  Startled cries rang out across the courtyard. Green Serpent guards came running in, swinging their swords wildly. But Asvin dodged the swishing blades, slipped through their ranks and ran straight to the tunnel.

  ‘Did you get the Gauntlet?’ asked Mantric as Asvin entered the dark tunnel and the Blur faded.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Are you hurt?’

  ‘Scratch on the arm.’

  ‘Let’s get out before they start searching the mountainside,’ hissed Maya. ‘How long will the cloaking spell last?’

  ‘A day or so,’ replied Mantric as they ran out of the tunnel into the night, ‘but we’ll be back tomorrow before it fades. Chen’s time-table will come in very handy.’

  They entered the cave without further incident, and returned to Bolvudis through Yong-gan’s mirror.

  ‘I still don’t understand why you have to choose the black stone,’ said Mantric as they walked out of Yong-gan’s mirror into the cave. ‘But if it asked you which one you wanted, and you picked the white one and it was the wrong one, it’s pretty clear what you have to do tonight.’

  ‘Are you sure it didn’t give you some clue? It spoke to you for half an hour, it must have said something,’ said Gaam to Asvin.

  ‘For the twenty-fifth time, it didn’t give me any clues,’ said Asvin crossly. He had spent the whole day trying in vain to remember what the statue had said.

  ‘Is it eight o’clock again tonight?’ asked Maya.

  ‘No, Chen is coming to the wall at nine tonight, not eight. He’s got the ten o’clock watch in the room with the key. I hope they haven’t found our tunnel,’ said Mantric. ‘These aren’t standard spell-casting conditions; I don’t know how long the illusions will last.’

  The snow-illusion at the mouth of the cave was still in place, fortunately. They climbed up to the monastery again and discovered that their tunnel had not been discovered. The gong rang out at nine, signaling Chen’s arrival.

  ‘I’ll come with you tonight. The illusion should be enough to hold the cave,’ whispered Gaam. Mantric nodded.

  At that precise moment, on the western spur of the mountain, a little distance away from Yong-gan’s cave, the snow suddenly rose in what looked like a gigantic bubble. It swelled up on the mountainside, thirty feet across. Then it popped, noiselessly.

  ‘Well, we’re here,’ said Kirin.

  He jumped out of the rickshaw.

  ‘We need to find three rocks arranged in a perfect triangle,’ he told Bali. ‘Danh-Gem’s secret passage is there.’

  He watched Bali skim around over the snow. For the last five days, Kirin had been thinking just one thought.

  When do I kill Bali?

  I should just go ahead and do it now. Before he does anything I should feel grateful for. No, that’s not logical. Let me be sure I can get the Gauntlet on my own. Then.

  Ten minutes later, he found the three rocks he sought and started melting the snow between them. But when the snow had gone he found, to his dismay, that there was no tunnel underneath. The monks had found it and filled it up with loose rocks. Now he had no idea how to get to the chamber with the Shanti-Joddha’s statue that Danh-Gem had written about. He sat down on one of the stones and tried to clear his head.

  Maya and Mantric cast the Blur. Asvin walked out of the tunnel and tapped Chen lightly on the shoulder. This time Chen was expecting him, and didn’t move a muscle. As Maya and Mantric settled down with their seeing tubes and got used to keeping the Blur on, Asvin sat down on the floor and waited for ten o’clock to come.

  ‘I,’ said Kirin to the icy mountain wind, ‘am an idiot.’

  He summoned Mritik. Tunnel? Golem? Connection? No? Genius.

  ‘Can you dig me a tunnel, Mritik?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, master,’ said the golem. ‘Where to?’

  ‘The south-west corner of the monastery,’ said Kirin. ‘No, wait. There’s a tunnel here filled with loose rocks. Can you clear it up?’

  ‘Yes, master.’

  The earth closed over the Chariot of Vul. Minutes later, the rocks that sealed the mouth of Danh-Gem’s tunnel flew into the air, and Kirin saw the massive shape of Mritik. He
had dug sideways into the tunnel with his massive hands, parting the rocks of the mountain like a man walking through tall grass.

  Without saying a word, Mritik began to walk deeper into the tunnel, pushing the rocks aside, compressing them with his giant hands.

  ‘Should we follow him?’ asked Bali.

  ‘No. We’ll wait until he finishes the tunnel and then I’ll go and get the Gauntlet.’

  ‘Whatever you say, Karisman.’

  Kirin and Bali sat on two of the three rocks. Bali watched the mountain, looking for guards. Kirin watched Bali.

  He didn’t need Bali any more. And his back was turned. Stabbing him now would make sense. It would be perfect revenge for the way he killed poor Red Pearl. There was no point wasting time thinking about it.

  It was time for Bali to die.

  He looked at the Shadowknife on his finger, and it slowly turned into a sharp, wickedly curved dagger. He crept forward until he was right behind Bali. Then he raised his dagger, ready to strike.

  Up in the monastery, the ten o’ clock gong rang. Chen and Asvin started off towards the trapdoor.

  I can’t do it, I simply can’t do it. He trusts me. I know him. He depends on me. I can’t kill him. He thinks we are friends.

  The Shadowknife turned into a ring again just before Bali turned around.

  ‘What is it?’ he asked sharply.

  ‘Master?’ came the voice of Mritik from the tunnel.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘There is a slight problem.’

  After what had happened last night, Asvin had expected more security, and the Xi’en elite didn’t disappoint. The courtyard wasn’t empty. There were six Green Serpent guards marching up and down it. But they reached the trapdoor safely.