Deathsworn: Siddhi Chronicles Book 1

by H. K Oby

  The rich kid stepped forward hesitantly, noticing that Amin was lost in his thoughts. Amin’s eyes followed him, but even as the plank was pulled away from his hands, he didn’t find it in him to react.

  That has never happened before. Maybe I’m still recovering from the shock of what happened then. Yes, that must be it. It can’t possibly be anything else.

  Relaxing, Amin shook his head and sat back down on the bed. Looking up, he smiled at the surprise still showing on the face of the guy whose situation had reversed too quickly for him to follow and decided to cut right to the chase.

  “Let’s start over. My name is Amin. I have no idea how I got here, and I really dislike having my head filled with more questions than answers. I don’t know why you don’t want to talk, and I don’t care. There’s a different way to ask this, but I’ve just been through an experience that’s making me question my whole life, so I want to make this quick. Were you about to die? And are you now miraculously healed?”

  The widening of his eyes was all the answer Amin needed.

  I was right! This guy went through the same thing…but what does it mean?

  Before he could say another word, the door banged open. Both of their heads whipped towards it, and both of their jaws went slack as they saw who stood in the doorway.

  Amin could have recognized that face anywhere. In his dreams, the man had appeared repeatedly, taunting him, punching him until his body was a shapeless lump of flesh, laughing at him while he tried to make a better joke. The unique features of the fair-skinned being such as that mouth that was too large for his face and those eyes that were too large to belong to any human were unmistakable, and even more glaring now that he wasn’t falling haplessly through the air. Instead of the jewelry he had worn before, he was now dressed fashionably in a grey suit, complete with a black tie that didn’t exactly go well with the rest of the outfit. His long, black, open hair fell to his shoulders and his long mustache looked like it had been oiled. There was still some gold on him on closer inspection: a gold watch was on his wrist, and a fat gold chain hung around his neck.

  The newcomer looked at the rich kid first. When he turned to Amin, his grin widened.

  “Amin and Rishi? I trust that we are both doing okay?”

  Even the way he spoke was the same. There was no more doubt in his mind, now…whatever had happened was somehow real, and that meant that he had a score to settle with whoever this was.

  It was funny. He had just found out that magic— or at least, whatever was the reason behind him being alive— was real, and the first thing he fixated on was revenge.

  Well, what can I say? I’ve always had my priorities straight.

  He opened his mouth angrily, but before he could speak, an excited voice rang out from beside him.

  “Of course, sir! You saved me! I knew I was going to die, but somehow I’ve been given a second chance! Thank you!”

  The being turned back to the rich kid. With a gracious nod, he twirled one side of the moustache that reached his chin and said, “Of course. It is my duty to save those the Pulse singles out. Now, tell me. What is the last thing you remember before passing out? During healing, sometimes, the mind can also be affected. Depending on your answer, I must decide whether you need special…treatment. Well?”

  The spoiled kid—or Rishi, as he had been called, although Amin had gotten used to thinking of him like so— answered like a student dead set on impressing his homeroom teacher.

  “I remember you suddenly being there! You touched me, and all the pain I was feeling went away…it was amazing! Thank you!”

  Amin’s eyebrows rose as he turned to look at Rishi.

  Really! How can our experiences be so different?

  Straightening his tie, the man laughed and waved his hand.

  “Oh, stop. I am tasked with lessening the pain of the journey. And you? What did you see? Are we going to have to engage in some of that special treatment? It is my duty to administer it, but I’ve heard that it's hardly enjoyable for the patient.”

  Amin’s eyes were trained on the strange being, so he didn’t miss the faintest twinge of worry that flashed across his eyes when he asked the question, or the sinister look that had accompanied the word ‘treatment’ both the times it had been uttered. Suddenly, his confusion cleared, and he knew exactly what was going on.

  I can recognize that look anywhere! That’s the face of someone who did something wrong and is trying to cover it up! I should know: I’ve blackmailed enough people in similar situations before. But what should I do? Should I confront him about it, about what he made me go through? Or should I just keep quiet for now? That ‘treatment’ definitely sounds…dangerous.

  Bullies were undoubtedly in the top three of the list of things that Amin hated with the very core of his being, but he had also built a career where his intuition had saved his life multiple times. It told him now that this man was dangerous: he didn’t want to have to control himself, but at the moment, until he knew more, the wise thing to do was play along.

  Taking rigid control of his face, he said, “That was the last thing I saw, too, but my pain didn’t go away. I remember rambling something. Do you know what I said? Ah, never mind, it must have been dumb. After that, I blacked out.”

  That wide grin returned. With another quick nod, the being said, “Good. We can get going, then. Close those mouths and stifle those questions. I just save people and transport them. You’ll have to wait if you want to find out more. Come on.”

  Without waiting for an answer, the man turned around and walked away. Sharing a look, the two of them followed.

  As soon as they entered the room beyond, Amin scanned the entire place. His guard was firmly up, now. He stared at the broad back of the one who had purportedly saved him, struggling to keep the hostility he felt out of his face. True, he could not deny the saving part, but what had preceded it made him wish that he could jump forward and strangle the man. To distract himself from this urge, he set himself to studying everything that had stood out to him during his rudimentary examination.

  It was a wide, rectangular hall with the same mildewed wooden walls and floor. A door stood closed opposite the one they had just walked through. A rickety fan was turning on the ceiling, its motion so desultory that he wondered whether it was being powered by electricity or the wind that flowed in from the window on one side of the room. He had scanned the window first, of course, and had moved on only after seeing that there was nothing remarkable outside. Trees dominated the view, giving no hint as to where they were.

  A broad wooden table had been set up in the middle of the room. Papers were scattered across it, filled with scratchings in the Hindi script. As the three of them neared it, he tried to read them, but only a few words made sense.

  Giving up on them, he focused on the last item of interest in the room: an unlocked iPad in a brown leather case. One of his eyebrows rose as he saw what was on it, ignoring the part of him that was actively calculating how much he would get if he stole it.

  Flight routes? What does that have to do with anything? Are we going to be smuggled on a plane or something?

  A howling gale suddenly blew through the window, sending the papers fluttering while the being took a look at the screen. Whatever he saw seemed to satisfy him, as he grinned at them both and said, “No time to dally. To the door, both of you.”

  Rishi obliged, but Amin didn’t move. Every cell in his body was firing up at the same time; they all screamed that it might be safer to throw himself out the window than trust this bully. Noticing Amin’s hesitation, the being shrugged and raised one finger.

  Abruptly, Amin felt as if he was being shoved from behind, but by at least ten guys who managed to touch each and every part of his body. He looked behind him and swore, seeing that there was nothing visible. The force did not relent. He stumbled forward, fighting all the way, but it was as if an invisible wall was moving across the room. Miraculously, the table and fan were not disturbed.


  Rishi watched on disbelievingly, having frozen mid-step on hearing Amin curse. He had already walked towards the door indicated by the being, so he was nowhere near Amin, yet by the time the two were parallel to each other, he, too, started to be pushed forward with a yelp.

  He could do nothing to stop it. The closer Amin got to the door, the more he struggled, but it was futile. He even tried turning around and pushing against the invisible wall, but that only made him fall on his back. Soon, they were just a step away from the door and the massive man.

  With a chuckle that made Amin growl, the being pushed open the door, and as he turned his gaze to see where he was going to be taken, all thought flew out of his mind.

  Only nothingness lay beyond.

  There was no road, no steps to descend, no pavement to step onto. Beyond the door was just air, empty and desolate, and somehow, clouds were visible in the distance. Looking down, he spotted a few stone outcrops, and that was when he realized where they were.

  We’re on top of a mountain! Wha-

  His thoughts didn’t even have the time to form completely. Checking his watch, the being nodded, then jumped out.

  The wall was still moving, and Amin realized that there were only two things he could do: be crushed against the wooden wall in front of him or trust and jump. The latter was still as repulsive to him as stepping into an open drain, but there was simply no choice; after crashing through the wood, he would fall down anyway.

  Gritting his teeth and biting out a curse that would have made even a fisherman blush, he jumped…

  …and landed on a cream-colored surface that cushioned his fall.

  Stunned, he looked around. The surface he was on had curving lines and ridges, and at a spot nearby, it split into four, no, five parts. Gasping, he stood up and felt a wave of wooziness hit his head as he saw that the crazy thought he had just gotten was right.

  This is a hand! Wait, no, this is his hand! I saw that fat mole before! How?!

  Shaking his head, he sat back down. Too much that made no sense at all was happening too quickly, so he suddenly wanted to lie back and just relax.

  The sound of wood breaking made him look up. He needed a second to comprehend where it was coming from; as soon as he did, he grimaced and jumped aside.

  A broken piece of a wooden plank rained down right where he had been, followed by more planks and, among them, one coward. He looked surprised, as if he had expected to avoid falling if he didn’t step out the door.

  “All right, off we go!”

  The familiar voice boomed out from behind them. Expecting to see an equally giant form of the bully and preparing himself mentally for the shock that image would cause, Amin turned around and blinked as his eyes fell on the peculiar sight waiting for him.

  The palm that was as big as a bedroom in a 5-star hotel shrunk exponentially at the wrist, as if it was a balloon that had been inflated to carry them. The being was the same size he had been before; when he saw Amin looking at him, he smiled at the corner of his mouth.

  I give up.

  Throwing his hands in the air, he turned around again and sat down.

  They began to move, first at a slow pace, then faster and faster until they were hurtling through the air. A brief flash of panic had raced through his mind, at first, when he saw how quickly they were going, but although he started to brace himself, he stopped when he realized that there seemed to be some sort of invisible field around the hand that insulated them from the wind and force that would knock them away.

  Rishi looked like he was in shock. Without uttering a word, he stayed where he was, buried beneath all that wood, looking around as if he wished he could wake up from the dream he was indubitably in.

  Wondering whether this was how it must feel to fly in an airplane, Amin let his thoughts drift. Every con artist had to find his own way to deal with mental strain; otherwise, a simple stakeout might break them. This was his way.

  He thought of the con that had almost killed him and whether he could have done anything differently. He thought of Rishi’s incongruous character; the guy was a scaredy-cat, but the way he had stopped himself from answering Amin before hinted at something buried deep within. He thought about his revenge and the nasty things he wished he could do to the being, such as putting that prized mustache on fire.

  Most of all, he thought about flying. Unbeknownst to him, a smile came to his face every time he recalled that first moment when he had been in the air, feeling freer than he ever had in his life. Soon, he realized that he was enjoying himself now, too, despite everything else.

  Wouldn’t it…be nice if I could do this at will, like this guy? Is that even possible? What am I thinking?

  Scoffing, he steered his thoughts away from the topic even though the wish tried to linger.

  How much longer will we be flying, anyway? I’m thirsty. And I’m starving! Damn, where’s an air hostess when you need her?

  The image of the bully dressed in a pretty white frock, handing out snacks and refreshments made him guffaw. He always could zone himself out of everything, no matter how dire the situation was, if he made a good joke or thought of something funny that deserved a laugh.

  Just as he was about to go back to thinking about what he wished he could eat, something changed around them.

  Getting to his feet, Amin stared in wonder at the sky that was now somehow golden. It had happened in a split second, as if they had passed through some sort of door into a different realm.

  Running to the side but then slowing down as he didn’t want to fall off, Amin reached the edge and got down on all fours. They had begun to slow down, so this didn’t feel as dangerous as it would have if he had done it before.

  As soon as he cleared the edge of the hand, the vista that lay below took his breath away.

  It was an island, or rather, two equally gigantic semi-circular islands with a sparkling river between them. It split them apart and joined with the blue water at the edges, like a perfect line drawn on the sandbox that was the earth by a divine hand. Arcing bridges that glittered in the sunlight connected the two landmasses that couldn’t be more different than each other.

  One was filled with lush vegetation, the greenery interspersed among dwellings that would have looked right at home in rural India. They looked almost like villages, with huts and small houses topped with thatch, mud, or even in a few cases, what Amin suspected was cow dung.

  The other was a metropolis far more modern than any Amin had ever seen. He did remember staring at and dreaming of the like in magazines that showed cities like New York or Tokyo, but even they paled in magnificence and sheer technological prowess on display when compared to this half of the land below.

  Skyscrapers jutted out of the land at perfect intervals, standing apart from the rest of the glass-filled buildings. Each edifice that towered over others had a unique feature, such as one covered with vegetation here or one hollow in the middle there. Each building’s glass was also tinted differently so that the entire area shone brilliantly like a kaleidoscope. Monorails were visible all over, some looping around buildings, some even going through. Carefully selected spots also sported meticulously arranged gardens, like green necklaces and jewels placed just so to set off the opulent beauty of the city.

  As Amin tried to process what the hell he was seeing, the bully’s voice boomed out from behind, this time filled with pride and arrogance.

  “I’m not supposed to say anything, but I can never stop myself. Treat what I am about to say as a gift. In life, you might or might not have had a place to call home, but in death, this will be your abode for as long as you draw breath. Remember its name well. Land of the Deathsworn. Bane of the Rakshasas. Jewel of the Gods. Mighty Ayodhya!”

  CHAPTER THREE

  WHILE THE BEING’S words still echoed in their ears, they began to descend toward one end of the central river where something green could be seen. At the same time, Amin also noticed that the palm was shrinking, causing him
to hold on for dear life as he moved back, struggling to stay on.

  The ground loomed nearer and nearer, and just as they reached it, the last of the massive hand instantly shrunk back to normal size, dropping both of them on lush green grass that felt softer than any bed he had ever slept on. In his panic, he hadn’t really studied where they were going before, but now, scrambling to his feet, he stared all around, struck dumb by the sheer tranquility of everything around them.

  The small patch of green he had seen from above was actually a towering tree that somehow grew out of the middle of the river. Now that he was much closer, he saw that his assessment of the water body had been correct; it was perhaps a hundred feet across, large enough that it could be waded by a determined swimmer but still small enough that ships and boats couldn’t pass through it without probably scraping their hull on the bottom.

  Realizing that he was thinking of things in terms of what a smuggler would consider, he shook his head and stared up. The tree's trunk was so thick that four men would have to encircle it to surround its sheer size. He had seen its sort before, but he had never needed to know its name. He didn’t know whether he was imagining it, but an aura of calm seemed to resonate from where it stood, suffusing his entire body until he felt like just laying back down on the grass and contemplating the mysteries of the universe.

  Beside him, Rishi was reacting in the same way. His eyes were fixed on the tree, recovering for the first time from the ordeal before. He was bleeding in a few places where the wood had pierced him, but they didn’t seem to hurt, which was surprising as Amin had expected him to wail as soon as the shock wore off.

  There was nothing else of interest around them except for a flowing marble bridge that connected the two sides of the landmasses. It stood far away, though, so Amin couldn’t see much except for the fact that it seemed to be carved with exquisite figures, but he noticed enough to remark that such a bridge would be an impossible feat of engineering outside. Nothing held it up in the air, and everything he knew about how weight and physics worked told him that it should fall to the side or suffer from breaks in the middle.