The Simoqin Prophecies

Home > Other > The Simoqin Prophecies > Page 38
The Simoqin Prophecies Page 38

by Samit Basu


  He looked at the Gauntlet, glowing red in his hands. If Danh-Gem got his hands on this again... And unlike Kirin, Danh-Gem didn’t think conquering the world was a pointless thing to do. And with this….

  He walked out of the room and into the tunnel. The world was slowly returning to normal, and he heard, through the tunnel, the sound of the wind howling over Mount Laoye.

  Well, that’s it. Just one more thing left to do.

  Then he heard a voice, over the wind. A voice screaming ‘No!’

  A familiar voice.

  In fact, his favourite voice in the whole world.

  ‘Maya?’ he said. ‘What on earth…’

  He ran out of the tunnel into the storm.

  Gaam had wounded Bali, and Asvin was a skilled swordsman, but the vanar was winning. Asvin was tired, his breath came in ragged gulps, and his sword-arm was almost wilting.

  Maya was hovering around them, sending fireballs flying at Bali whenever Asvin was far enough to be safe, but the wind and the snow were turning her missiles aside.

  Bali had lost a lot of blood. But his eyes still gleamed with malice, and a horrible smile was fixed on his lips, for he was happiest when fighting.

  He dropped his guard. Asvin lunged forward, and realized too late that it was a trick. Bali stepped to one side, ducked and swung Gaam’s axe with all the strength in his mighty body. The axe sliced through the air and landed horizontally across Asvin’s chest with a sickening thud. Asvin looked at the axe buried in his chest. He looked mildly surprised. He took a step backwards and fell heavily.

  He stayed down.

  ‘No!’ screamed Maya. She was too tired to throw any more fireballs.

  ‘No more fire from you, my dear,’ snarled Bali, leaping at her and pinning her down on the snow. He held her hands in a crushing grip. ‘Now I threw one down the mountain, and cut the other in half. I think you are going to talk.’

  He dragged her to the edge of the precipice and made her look down.

  ‘You don’t want to join your friend down there!’ he roared. ‘Show me how to escape through the mirror!’

  ‘I can’t,’ she said, watching his gleaming fangs inches above her face. ‘I can’t make the mirror work.’

  ‘You lie!’

  He stood above her fallen form, his foot on her neck.

  ‘I will tear your limbs apart with my bare hands if you cannot show me the way off this accursed mountain,’ he snarled.

  Behind them, Asvin got up, rubbing his chest.

  He was not even bleeding. The armour really was unbreakable. He should have been sliced into two pieces by that mighty blow.

  He saw Bali holding Maya’s head over the edge of the precipice. He sprang to his feet.

  Seconds later, the blade of his sword was sticking out of the front of Bali’s head.

  Asvin sank to the ground, completely spent.

  Bali looked at him, then at Maya. He lurched forward, and toppled over the edge. And fell like a stone into the great precipice.

  They lay silently on the snow for some time, listening to the wind blowing over the mountain and the sound of their hearts pounding. Then Maya got up and pulled Asvin to his feet.

  ‘You saved my life,’ she said.

  ‘Finally,’ said Asvin, smiling. ‘I’ve lost count of the number of times you’ve saved mine.’

  ‘Your sword! You’ve lost your sword. The most powerful sword in the world.’

  ‘As Gaam said, there are many other swords. Do you seriously think I could have kept the sword and let him kill you?’

  ‘Well,’ said Maya, grinning as she cast a healing spell on him, ‘heroes are supposed to be obsessed with their swords. And you’re so obsessed with being a hero.’

  ‘If I had anything else to hit him with, I would not have used the sword.’ He held her hands in his.

  ‘You could have hit him with Gaam’s axe,’ she pointed out, pretending she hadn’t noticed.

  ‘I could have. That’s true. Has it ever occurred to you that you might be very important to me?’ He pulled her to him.

  ‘I could never be a hero’s consort,’ she said.

  ‘No one’s asking you to be one.’

  She looked genuinely puzzled. ‘Does that mean you see me as an equal, or does it mean you’re not in love with me?’

  ‘You’re more intelligent than me. Decide for yourself.’

  He kissed her.

  She pulled away after a while. ‘Asvin, Gaam’s dead,’ she said. ‘I just remembered.’

  It hit him then. Tears sprang to his eyes. ‘I can’t believe I forgot,’ he said bitterly. ‘All I could think about after killing the vanar was how much I love you.’

  But Maya wasn’t looking at him. She was looking over his shoulder with a stunned expression on her face at someone standing a little distance away from them, watching them silently, something red glowing in his hand.

  ‘Kirin?’ she said.

  Kirin stood there stone-still, looking at her face in the white light, not even noticing the storm.

  Asvin looked at her, stunned. ‘My name is Asvin,’ he told her coldly. Up in the monastery, the alarm-gongs were ringing wildly.

  ‘Kirin!’ yelled Maya, shoving him aside. She started towards Kirin.

  But Kirin didn’t reply. He had seen enough. He turned and ran into the howling wind.

  ‘Kirin, wait!’ yelled Maya, running blindly behind him, snow lashing across her face. Behind her, Asvin gave chase too.

  Kirin sped across the snow.

  I bring death and danger to those I care about.We weren’t supposed to meet. It’s better this way. She’ll be happy with him. He’s a hero.

  She was probably in love with him too. And he wasn’t even human. He didn’t even belong in this world. But I’m glad I got to see her again before the end. And if I do kill Danh-Gem, I will not stay in this world. He would go wherever my people were, and make things easier for everyone in this world. He would make things easier for Maya. She could forget all about him and be happy with her hero.

  He raised his arms and the fireball above Maya’s head went out.

  Kirin disappeared behind a rock ledge.

  When Maya managed to light a fireball again, Kirin was gone. She ran to where she had last seen him, jumped over the ledge and reached a strange flat circle in the rock, rapidly disappearing in the snow.

  ‘It was Kirin!’ she yelled as Asvin caught up. ‘He had the Gauntlet, too! He disappeared! What’s going on?’

  ‘Come away,’ said Asvin, grabbing her arm. He was feeling a wild surge of jealousy, an emotion completely new to him.

  Above them, there were shouts. The Green Serpent guards had seen Maya’s fireball. Bows twanged and arrows rained at the intruders. The guards streamed down the slope, firing at the light.

  Maya put out her fireball and they ran in silence to Yong-gan’s cave. But as they disappeared into the snow, one of the Green Serpents saw them and shouted. Arrows flew into the cave entrance as Asvin turned the mirror black. Then they dashed through the mirror, and cannoned into Mantric, who was waiting anxiously in Bolvudis.

  ‘What happened? Where’s Gaam?’ he asked, but they said nothing, falling to the floor and panting as they recovered their breath.

  On Mount Laoye, the mirror turned silver just before the first guard fell into the cave and fired an arrow into it. As other guards fell through the snow-illusion, Yong-gan’s mirror broke into a thousand pieces. The storm howled on outside.

  It’s almost over.

  The Chariot of Vul sped away from the mountain. Just one more step. And I’m not going to think about Maya any more. She probably never even missed me.

  He thought of nothing else for the next eight days, while the rickshaw sped through the long tunnels from Xi’en to Imokoi.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The full moon shone down on the Circle of Darkness.

  It shone down on a huge circle of flat earth, at least five hundred feet across, in the centre of a huge,
barren plain, where grass had not grown for years, where no bird or beast lived, where no sound disturbed the eerie silence except the mournful whistling of the dry summer wind. A wide ditch ran around the circle with an entrance to the west.

  It shone down on the ring of megaliths that stood in the centre of the circle, huge menhirs of bluestone, eight feet apart, forming a circle a hundred feet across. These giant blocks were connected by more blocks laid horizontally on their tops, forming an elevated circle of stone that had once been continuous, but was broken now – some of the horizontal blocks had fallen off and lay outside the circle, dull and grey in the moonlight.

  It shone down on the pentagonal Altar Stone that lay in the middle of the stone ring, where the druids of Ventelot of old had carried out their mysterious rituals centuries ago.

  And it shone down on a giant bubble that rose silently from the depths of the earth just outside the Circle of Darkness.

  Kirin climbed out of the crater and looked around. The first thing that struck him was the silence. There was no wind, and no sign of life anywhere. He looked up, and saw the stars glittering in the clear sky, and the full moon shining coldly on the stones ahead of him.

  He walked into the Circle of Darkness, and as he crossed the ditch he heard a harsh croak. Startled, he looked around, and saw a large black crow sitting in the moonlight, on top of a fallen menhir.

  ‘He’s here,’ said Kraken.

  Out of the deep shadows cast by the giant pillars of rough-hewn stone walked Bjorkun and Angda.

  ‘Get the others,’ said Angda. Kraken flew off.

  ‘Welcome, Karisman,’ said Bjorkun. ‘We have been waiting for you. The others are close by, they will be here soon. But where is Bali?’

  ‘Dead,’ said Kirin.

  As Angda cast herself on the ground and wept, a cold wind from the mountains to the west began to blow across the plain.

  

  Asvin, Maya and Mantric walked out of Jaadur’s mirror. The Chief Civilian was waiting for them.

  ‘You will remain in Kol,’ she told Asvin. ‘Because your time has come. My spies tell me that the forces of Danh-Gem are united, and they wait for his call. Our forces are ready, too, in case my efforts to stop a war fail. As I suspect they will.

  ‘I have brought you here tonight for two reasons. First, since Danh-Gem was killed on full moon night in Dragonmonth two hundred years ago, I thought it would be an interesting idea to go to Enki University and look at the Fountain. And second, there is someone I want you to meet.’

  She led them down long corridors to a small room where a vaman stood, a battle-axe in his hand. He was richly dressed, and when he turned towards them they cried out in joy, because his face was a face they knew well.

  ‘Gaam!’ cried Asvin, springing forward to embrace him.

  But the vaman raised a hand. ‘I am not Gaam Vatpo,’ he said. ‘But the error you make is a common one, for even vamans cannot tell us apart at times. I am his brother, Mod.’

  Their faces fell. ‘We are one with you in this time of grief, Mod,’ said Asvin. ‘Gaam was with us when he died.’

  A strange smile played across Mod’s face. ‘As to that,’ he said, ‘I will not mourn yet. Not until Gaam’s body is found will I believe that he is dead.’

  ‘Mod is the ambassador from the Vaman King in Bhumi,’ said the Civilian. ‘As you probably know, Kol and Bhumi have signed a treaty of alliance. If there is a war, the vamans are with us.’

  But they were not interested in politics just then. ‘Is that just a custom, or is there some reason to believe Gaam may still be alive?’ asked Mantric.

  Mod smiled again. ‘I have lived in Bhumi most of my life,’ he said. ‘I will say this to you this only because you were his friends. There are vaman mines hidden under the Mountains of Harmony. If Gaam survived the fall, he would go underground to these mines, for he knows where they are.’

  ‘How?’ asked Mantric, startled.

  ‘The vamans have ways of going home,’ said Mod. ‘I cannot reveal them. Of course, chances are he is dead, but do not despair yet.’

  

  The full moon shone down on the Circle of Darkness.

  It shone down on the faces of the eight members of the Brotherhood of Renewal, standing around the Altar Stone.

  Omar unsheathed his sword and saluted the sky. ‘Brothers,’ he said, ‘this is our hour of triumph. We are all here tonight…’

  ‘We are not all here,’ snapped Bjorkun. ‘You may not care about Bali’s absence, but I do. Let us not have any speeches. Karisman, tell us what to do.’

  ‘Bali may not be here, but Angda represents the vanars tonight,’ said Omar smoothly. ‘They have served us well, and deserve our gratitude.’

  ‘Served us?’ said Angda incredulously.

  ‘It seems to me that you forget your place, westerner,’ rumbled Aciram.

  ‘Can we get on with this?’ asked Kirin.

  ‘First,’ he said, as they subsided, glowering, ‘we need your claw on the stone, Spikes.’

  Spikes said nothing. He held out his right hand, unsheathed its claws, laid it down on the stone, and brought his left hand down upon one finger with a mighty crack. The claw broke off. Spikes walked back and stood beside Kirin. If he felt any pain, he did not show it.

  A mild tremor ran through the earth.

  ‘The Tear of the Sky,’ said Kirin. Bjorkun set it on the Altar Stone beside Spikes’ claw.

  None of them saw the dark clouds that were gathering in the west, heading towards the Circle of Darkness faster than the wind that whistled through the stones.

  ‘The jinn-lamp.’ Omar set it down beside the gem.

  ‘The Iron Crown.’ King Hooba held it in his hands for a moment, looking at it longingly. Then he put it down on the pentagonal stone, beside the lamp.

  The clouds shut out the stars to the west. Thunder rumbled far away.

  And then there was darkness. They looked up and saw the clouds speeding over to the east, shutting out the stars.

  ‘It is time,’ said Bjorkun, in an awed voice, his long hair flying about in the strong wind sweeping across the Circle.

  ‘And finally, said Kirin, feeling the earth tremble, and trying to keep his own voice from shaking, ‘the Gauntlet of Tatsu.’

  The Shadowknife throbbed in anticipation on his finger.

  He took the Gauntlet out from the folds of his cloak and they gasped as it shone fire-red in the darkness. He looked at their faces, red and black. He looked at Spikes, and tried to smile but failed. He stepped forward and set the Gauntlet down between Spikes’ claw and the Iron Crown.

  The red light went out.

  The wind stopped abruptly. He could see nothing.

  He stood there in the darkness for a minute, and then couldn’t bear the silence any longer.

  ‘Well, we’ve done our bit,’ he said feebly. ‘What do you think happens now?’

  No one replied.

  ‘Well?’ he asked. ‘Say something, someone!’

  He reached out and touched Spikes. ‘What is it?’ he whispered. Spikes said nothing.

  Sudden terror, deep and silent, struck Kirin. He ran to where Angda stood on his left, and felt for her in the darkness.

  He found her, touched the smooth muscles on her back, but something was wrong.

  She was as hard as Spikes. ‘Angda?’ he said, loudly, but she didn’t reply.

  It hit him suddenly. She’d been turned to stone. He ran past her, feeling along the edge of the Altar Stone, and found Bjorkun. He was stone too.

  He looked around wildly, but saw nothing. The Shadowknife turned into a sword and he swung it around, tentatively.

  The silence was killing him. He wanted light, sound, anything, any sign of life.

  As if in answer, thunder rumbled again, very close. A huge bolt of lightning forked through the sky outside the Circle, splitting the plain where it landed.

  Then the clouds above Kirin shifted slightly, and a single, incredibly brigh
t moonbeam shone through, falling gently on the Altar Stone, lighting up the Brotherhood of Renewal’s offerings to the Great Rakshas.

  Kirin heard the splatter of raindrops, and whirled around. Torrents of water poured over the plains all around him, but inside the Circle of Darkness no rain fell.

  There was a loud crack, and the Altar Stone split in half.

  And Danh-Gem rose.

  The Altar Stone crumbled to pieces. The five objects on it scattered on the ground.

  A small cloud slowly formed above them, wispy at first, but growing stronger and taking shape. It grew darker and thicker, whirling and solidifying, until edges and lines appeared, and Danh-Gem stood in the moonlight.

  Kirin had expected Danh-Gem to look like the paintings he’d seen, a giant creature wielding terrible weapons, a rakshas man-shaped, black or dark blue, red-lipped, white-fanged, dressed in skins and skulls, awe-inspiring, death-dealing.

  But Danh-Gem was man-sized and grey-cloaked, a little shorter than Kirin. A large hood covered his face. Yet Kirin could feel the power of the eyes under the hood, could feel them darting around, looking at the stone figures around him, searching for something. Danh-Gem’s movements were quick and catlike. He stepped lightly off the rubble of the Altar Stone and looked at the objects lying on the ground.

  The Shadowknife twisted and writhed in Kirin’s hand, sensing the rush of power that was flooding through him.

  Then Danh-Gem saw Kirin. He turned towards him. His eyes were hidden under the shadow of the hood, but Kirin saw his mouth. A strong jaw, and even white teeth, smiling coldly.

  It was as if Kirin’s blood had been turned to ice. Danh-Gem’s gaze hit him like a cold slap, and for a moment he felt rooted to the earth.

  But he summoned all the power that lay within him, the power that ran through his blood, the power his parents had left him. And suddenly he was free. He lunged forward and plunged the Shadowknife into Danh-Gem’s heart.

  

  ‘I think,’ said Mantric slowly, ‘that Danh-Gem has returned.’

  They were in a great hall in Enki, looking at the University Fountain, at the water brought from the Vertical Sea.

 

‹ Prev