by Samit Basu
‘Not at all,’ said the Civilian. ‘And I just asked Roshin to tell you that. Did she forget?’
‘No,’ said a voice behind them. Roshin’s voice. A young woman walked on to the balcony, smiling, wearing Roshin’s face.
‘She thought she told him, but she didn’t. She told me,’ said the Red Queen. ‘Why are you drawing your sword?’
‘Well, to defend the Chief Civilian and myself,’ Thog said, confused.
‘Well, don’t. It’s rude.’ said Red firmly. ‘If I wanted to kill you, I would have by now.’
Thog put his sword away, abashed.
Red turned to the Civilian, who was leaning against the railing, smiling faintly.
‘I was wondering when we would meet,’ said Temat. ‘Are you the shapeshifter who went away with Asvin?’
‘Yes. How did you know?’
‘I didn’t. But I do know that there are quite a few of you in the palace. And that you watch over me. And Ojanus seems most unperturbed by your presence, which indicates familiarity. I had always hoped to meet you. No doubt there is some matter of earth-shaking importance that brings you to me.’
Red considered this. ‘Not really,’ she said. ‘I just dropped in for a chat. I’ve watched over you since you first came to the palace, and we’ve never spoken. Which is a shame, really, because I always liked you.’
‘In that case, I am glad you changed your mind.’
‘Yes. Of course, until a few days ago I thought I would kill you if we met, and take your place. But you’ll be happy to know that I’ve changed my mind about that too.’
Thog gulped. ‘Who are you?’ he asked.
‘Hm. That’s a tricky one,’ she said. ‘I don’t know. I think I’m a lot of people. But I know who I’m going to be.’
The Civilian made an encouraging gesture. Red’s face changed into Rukmini’s, and her expression changed to one of extreme fluffiness.
‘I’m going to be Kol’s next hero, or heroes,’ said Red. ‘You seem to keep needing new ones.’
Chapter Twelve
‘Oweeyay,’ said the Baby of Destiny with much solemnity.
‘Yes, I know,’ said Maya. ‘But I’m reading. Play on your own until Fatima gets here.’
The Future Wielder of the Thunderbolt of Universal Doom bubbled mutinously, considered crying, and decided against it. Maya had recently sealed her mouth with Gum That Bubbles after three sleepless nights; she was clearly a woman with no heart at all. Instead, the Baby of Destiny tried low cunning; she sat up with much difficulty and concentrated on looking adorable. It was an unequal battle from the start; after a few seconds Maya succumbed to blackmail and social pressure, set her book aside and picked up the wobbling goddess, who accepted her affections graciously, saying ‘Hoo!’ and pulling a few clumps of Maya’s hair out.
Bolvudis had clasped the Baby of Destiny to its heaving bosom, and a strange assortments of men, women and creatures lined up outside Maya’s hut every day to coo over the bawling newcomer. This was fine as far as Maya was concerned; it allowed her and Kirin to escape their entirely unfair parental responsibilities and spend some time together. But given the baby’s importance in the cosmic scheme of things, it was not safe to leave her alone with strangers, and even Spikes, though a wonderful nurse, needed to go away from her cradle once in a while and be randomly destructive to reassert his role in the universe. And so it was that Maya found herself sitting with the Future Wielder of the Thunderbolt of Universal Doom this pleasant afternoon, turning various objects into other objects, making flashing lights appear on the hut’s walls, wishing she had Kirin’s ability to juggle with his mind, and still trying hard to pretend that the Baby of Destiny had not captured all their heartstrings firmly in her tiny hands.
The unwaba had warned Kirin and Maya that the Infinite Infant was vulnerable on the mortal plane, and needed to be protected; that she was, for now, just an ordinary baby. The Infinite Infant, however, did not seem to be aware of this. Every now and then, she would forget she was no longer omniscient, and would start speaking in a grown-up voice when she thought no one was watching her. And she seemed to be able to eat almost anything, from insects to solid steel. On one memorable occasion, while Kirin had been sleeping open-mouthed, she had eaten her way right through the hut’s wall, and had been found after a frantic search on Bolvudis’ southern shore, trying to see if she could swallow the Psomedean Ocean.
But the Baby of Destiny was calm now, gurgling in amazement every time a little golden fish appeared above her head and disappeared with a sploink. And Maya found that she was laughing as well, and wondered if the Baby of Destiny would remember her motley collection of nurses on the mad isle of Bolvudis when she ruled the galaxy.
After the fifty-first fish disappeared, the Infinite Infant fell asleep. Maya reached for her book, but there was a knock on the door.
‘Fatima?’ called Maya, remembering to put on a fashionably disgruntled expression.
The door, which had been bolted from the inside, swung open. Silhouetted against the light stood a man, naked except for a wolfskin loincloth. Maya stared at him appreciatively; he was an anatomist’s dream, all well-defined and bulgy. Piercing blue eyes met hers, and she flinched at their intensity. Alarms suddenly rang out in her head; this was no prospective baby-cuddler. And then she noticed streaks of blood on the rippling muscles on his sweat-soaked arms, and fangs trying to burst out of his cruel, thin mouth, and she jumped up and leaped between the stranger and the Baby of Destiny.
‘I am the Ursag,’ he said. ‘You have heard of me, and you know what I want.’
Every nerve in Maya’s body was screaming at her, begging her to abandon the baby and leap out of the open window, but she smiled her friendliest smile at the Ursag.
‘Hello, Ursag,’ she said, ‘or is that hello, the Ursag? It’s good to meet you, but I’m afraid I have no idea who you are.’
The Ursag smirked, and his fangs glittered. ‘Few meet me more than once, yet all have heard of me. I am he, the one from your nightmares. The silent shadow, the tireless hunter that stalks the night, slaying every evil thing it touches,’ he said. ‘Surely you have heard of the mysterious deaths all over this island over the last few days. My handiwork.’
‘Well, that’s nice,’ said Maya. ‘But sorry, I’ve been very busy, with the baby and everything. Is there anything I can help you with?’
A hint of doubt appeared in the Ursag’s steely gaze. ‘You are the Dark Lord’s mistress, are you not?’ he asked. ‘Of course you are; I have been following you for days.’
‘The Dark Lord’s mistress? No, sorry. You need to take a right, run in a straight line for a month or two, stop at a big Dark Tower you’ll find along the way, and then ask. Would you like some tea before you go?’
The Ursag’s shoulders sagged. ‘You are not the Dark Lord’s mistress?’
‘Would I be living in a hut if I were?’
‘You have really never heard of me?’
‘Not a word. But I’m sure lots of people have,’ said Maya encouragingly. ‘You seem nice.’
‘I am not nice,’ said the Ursag in a voice of ice. ‘I am the Ursag, the most fearsome predator to walk this world or any other. And you are lying. The whole world knows of me. It must. Perhaps it is the word Ursag you are not familiar with. But you must know of the ravian werewolf, the only one of its kind, sent to slay raviankind’s worst enemy, Kirin Kin-Traitor.’
‘Why don’t you just tell me your story and then I’ll know,’ said Maya, her knees threatening to give way.
‘There is no point in my telling you my story,’ he said. ‘They had promised that they would ensure the whole world knew of me and the sacrifice I was making, in allowing myself to be merged with a monster. That bards in future Ages would sing of me, of my creation in the White Lady’s tower of sorcery, of my escape from its burning ruins when the Dark Lord’s forces ensured its secrets would stay lost forever, that there could be only one Ursag to hunt his enemy all across the
world. That the Dark Lord himself would tremble every time someone whispered the name Ursag in the farthest corners of Obiyalis, and know his days were numbered!’
His eyes were glowing, almost white with fury now, and little specks of saliva flew out of his mouth. Maya looked outside, through the open door, wishing Kirin and Spikes would arrive. The Ursag thumped his chest as his voice grew louder, hoarser, angrier.
‘I, the Ursag, have walked this wretched earth for untold days and stormed the heart of the Dark Tower itself. I, the Ursag, have looked into the eyes of the Dark Lord, and know that he is an imposter. I have leaped off the highest levels of the Dark Tower and lived. I have slain my way through north and south and tracked the real Kirin down to his island lair, a feat that required incredible skill, strength and patience…and you have not even heard of me? I am the Dark Lord’s chief enemy! I am his nemesis! I am his story’s bitter end! Imokoi shivers at the rumour of my approach! How dare you not know me? What evil fate has befallen me?’
‘Look at the bright side,’ said Maya. ‘That’s a really nice loincloth.’
The Ursag began to growl, and the hut trembled. His face lengthened a little, and tiny red points flared up in his blue eyes.
‘Don’t do that. You’ll wake the baby,’ said Maya. ‘Look, my sympathies and all that. I know what it feels like to wander all around the world for nothing. But I doubt your masters had any intention of making you famous. They thought you’d kill Kirin for them and they’d win the war. Then things got… complicated. Kirin had more important things to do, and he got a rakshas to impersonate him. And there was a new Dark Lord. You met him, right? You should go back and kill him. That’s what’ll help the ravians, you know, and make you really famous. Kirin’s not even a part of this.’
‘You lie. Kirin has fled here to escape the Ursag, the ravians’ greatest hero. He spins his webs from afar, leaving his brave rakshas lieutenants to face Zibeb’s righteous anger. But thanks to the Ursag’s efforts, his secret now lies exposed. His fears have come true; he knew the Ursag would find him one day. He knew there could only be one winner in the long battle between Kirin and the Ursag. He knew how his story would end.’
‘Kirin has no idea you exist,’ said Maya, too exasperated to smile any more. ‘If he’d been asked to name the villain he had to fight to save the day at the end of the story, it wouldn’t have been you. Now, Myrdak, for instance – he knew how to make his presence felt, with the whole routine of threats, suspense and so forth. Didn’t just come barging in like you did.’
‘Had Myrdak known how to bring this story to an end sooner, I need never have existed.’
‘You’re not listening. Kirin doesn’t know how any stories end. This is because Kirin doesn’t see his life, or anyone else’s, or anything with real living people in it, as a story. You should try that, too. Then you won’t get so upset when the other characters in your story, otherwise known as real people, don’t behave the way you expect them to.’
‘It is you who do not understand. We are all living out a great story. It has been twisted and perverted by Kirin and his evil minions, and it is my task to restore it and bring it to its rightful end.’
‘Then turn a few pages ahead in your head, you fool, and you’ll discover there is no rightful end. Things aren’t going to clear up magically. There’s no scene where everything’s explained, and everyone’s lives don’t go back to being the way they were. There’s no going back anywhere. And no one’s happy ever after. Ever.’
‘I will bandy words with you no longer, good lady. Kirin dies today.’
‘Why? So you can go tell your king you’ve killed him? That’ll make you really famous, killing a harmless man on a beach, and leaving the Dark Lord alive. What a fabulous end to the great Ursag’s story. A murder on a little island, no witnesses, no audience, no glory at all. That, no doubt, is what people went through the whole trouble of turning you into a werewolf for.’
The Ursag took a deep breath and looked at Maya suspiciously.
‘But they told me I had to kill Kirin,’ he said. ‘They said they would cure me only after I had killed Kirin. It is not just the story I care for. You cannot imagine the pain I feel as the monster’s blood burns its way through my veins.’
‘They told you what they did when they thought Kirin was the Dark Lord. You could go and kill him – I don’t think he’d even fight you. But that wouldn’t get you anywhere, since his death no longer helps your masters.’
‘But kill him I must. It is not as if I have a choice.’
‘You have several choices, actually. Would you like to hear them?’
The Ursag bristled, but looked curious. ‘Yes,’ he said finally.
Maya smiled again, and said ‘For a start, you could go back to the Dark Tower and kill the person you were really meant to, in front of a large crowd, which is a good way to get famous. Better story, if that’s what you want. Or you could try waiting for a bit. The world might end soon. And then working on building your legend will seem like such a waste of effort. Why fight? Hang around. Smoke some Muwi root. Walk around on the beach with us. Act a bit. We could always use a ravian werewolf in the Muwi-visions. Or – and this is a good one – go back and tell them you’ve killed Kirin. They’ll never know you haven’t. Kirin certainly has no intention of meeting the ravians and telling them otherwise.’
‘And there is another path you have not mentioned,’ said the Ursag. ‘Kill Kirin, and win immortality.’
Maya shrugged. ‘You’ll do what you have to. I was just trying to help. Which brings me to an interesting question. It has just occurred to me that you might not have come to meet me to find out what I thought you should do. And if you have indeed been following us for several days, you already know where Kirin is. Why, then, did you come to me first?’
‘Because, dear lady, the story I have decided for the Dark Lord’s death involves you. And your baby.’
Maya raised an eyebrow towards the heavens. ‘Please tell me you’re not planning to abduct us,’ she said.
‘I am indeed.’
Maya laughed. ‘That’s a very bad idea.’
‘You intend to try to resist? Please go ahead.’
‘No,’ said Maya. ‘It’s just that if you’d bothered to show up earlier, you would have known that abducting me is the silliest thing to do if you want to get Kirin to turn up. He’s not a very good rescuer of damsels in distress. I should know. Besides, the two people who abducted me in the past died with swords right through them. One in the head, one in the heart. Do you really want to be the next?’
‘In that case, prepare to die,’ said the Ursag. ‘When Kirin finds your scattered remains, and those of the baby, he will no doubt seek me out. He will find me soon enough.’
Maya laughed again. ‘What is it now?’ asked the Ursag, justifiably annoyed.
‘Nothing,’ said Maya. ‘Just that if you harm this baby, the world will end. Seriously. And I will have spent my last precious minutes with you. I’m not sure why that’s funny, but it is.’
‘Just in case there is some truth in your words,’ said the Ursag, coldly, ‘I will spare the baby’s life. Besides, it can look for revenge later, to avenge its mother’s death. A good story. You, however, must now die.’ He stepped closer to Maya, jaws lengthening.
‘You work for the ravian king, don’t you?’ she asked.
‘Of course.’
‘Do you know he is my husband?’
The Ursag goggled. Maya observed, with great relief, that Spikes was some distance away and walking towards them.
‘I’m telling the truth, you know,’ she said. ‘If you can track Kirin across countries and centuries, surely you can smell New Asroye on me, even though I bathe far more conscientiously. Perhaps you can even smell the wedding gifts. Where were you on the day?’
Over the Ursag’s shoulder, she saw Spikes start and crouch into attack position.
‘I do not understand,’ said the Ursag. ‘How is this possible?’
>
‘They didn’t tell the world about you, and they didn’t tell you anything,’ said Maya. ‘I think you should give up now. In fact, as queen of the ravians, I order you to.’
Behind the Ursag, Spikes began a lopsided, slow, stealthy charge.
‘No,’ said the Ursag. ‘I must kill Kirin. You are no ravian, and I will not take orders from you.’
He backed out of the hut and stood just outside the door. Maya smiled coldly, and raised her hands. Large fireballs appeared above her head.
‘Well, you’re not much of a ravian yourself, are you?’ she enquired. ‘Your danger sense is quite weak, for example.’
‘If you are referring to the pashan charging up behind me while you childishly try to distract me with lights,’ said the Ursag, ‘I am perfectly aware of his presence.’
Spikes broke into a run. His claws were out, his head was down, and he looked terrifying.
‘If I show no sign of alarm,’ said the Ursag, ‘it is because I do not consider him even slightly dangerous.’
Spikes leaped at the Ursag. Maya hurled her fireballs in the same instant, one on each side of the Ursag, to hit him if he dived to evade Spikes.
The Ursag spun around and rose majestically, one leg extended, and kicked Spikes’ head in mid-air.
Maya screamed as Spikes flipped in mid-air and fell heavily, his body at an odd angle, as he landed with a heart-stopping crash. She sent a huge fireball into the Ursag’s chest as he landed neatly on the ground.
The Ursag made no attempt to dodge her flaming missile. And showed no sign of even noticing the huge, ugly burn on his bare chest, or the smell of his sizzling flesh. He looked at Maya and bared his fangs. On his chest, the burning circle melted away and healed almost instantly.
‘After I have slain your lover,’ he said, ‘I will take you back to your husband. Stay here.’
He kicked Spikes savagely in the stomach, and the mighty pashan flew up and crashed to earth some distance away. Spikes showed no signs of pain, or indeed of any kind of feeling at all.
