That the old man was hungry was evident from the way he wolfed down the meal. Adri lit a cigarette and watched him eat. ‘What’s your name?’ Adri asked after a while, as simple a question as any.
‘Vishwak,’ came the reply through a mouth full of food.
‘Vishwak. So you like the food, Vishwak?’
The old man continued eating, and then he nodded.
‘Good,’ Adri said. ‘Eat well, there’s more if you want.’
But Vishwak did not want any more, and after he finished, he continued sitting in the corner, refusing any more food.
Adri leaned forward. ‘Vishwak, tell me what happened to this house?’
‘It is only a warning, like the Goshtias got before their life soul was scattered. The end comes, and it comes fast. We all have our time, but now there is not much left! Listen to me, son. You are young. If you have things to do then do them, we do not have much time.’
Adri leaned back again and did not waste his breath. There was no point. Vishwak was crazy, and there was clearly nothing to be had from him, except for his visions of doom. No, he would have to wait for darkness. He looked outside through a partially collapsed wall; the sun was slowly setting. Not long now before he could find out more, hopefully.
Gray walked in. ‘Anything?’ he asked Adri.
Adri shook his head.
‘Thought so,’ Gray said.
‘Maya still asleep?’
‘Yes.’
‘Okay. I got us some food, feel free to eat, you’ll need your strength.’
Gray nodded. ‘What’s our plan then?’
‘If nothing changes then we stay here overnight, and tomorrow we move further into the city.’
Gray looked inside the packet and starting arranging food on his paper plate. ‘Does the Old City have no transport except walking?’
‘There are trams, but that’s near the heart of the city.’
Gray paused. ‘Oh wait, Adri, I found something. Wanted to give it to you.’ He reached into his shirt pocket, walked over to Adri, and handed him the photo fragment. Adri took it and looked at it with interest. A photograph of him—he was a young child, not more than ten to twelve years of age. There he stood in the faded photograph, looking expressionlessly at the camera, dressed in neat white, obviously for some occasion he couldn’t remember. There was a hand on his shoulder; firm and confident—the sleeve led up to nothing but a burnt edge. Irony. Complete and utter irony. He got up and left the kitchen, intending to finish the meal in the library.
Gray looked up, and then followed him, carefully balancing the food on his plate. Vishwak had not moved. He leaned against the wall as before, his eyes now shut.
Adri paced through the dead house like a spirit, waiting for the sun to leave. Thoughts rushed to him as he looked at the house, and the realisation that it had been wilfully destroyed sank in, only deeper than before.
You were once a complete house, protected by strong magic. What happened here? You had my father, you protected him; and in the end you failed. Where is he? I am here now, I, his son. If he is dead then I am the owner of this ruination. And I command you to tell me what went on here inside your walls. Tell me why doors were hidden from me, tell me what secrets you kept for my father. And tell me the story of your end.
Adri wanted to know, and this thirst was making him impatient. The sun was still visible over the horizon, cruel and unmoving—the house remained silent. Adri went down to the basement again in his agitation. The torch was still burning. He looked at the rows of books on the shelves; and he opened one in the dim, dancing light.
Maya woke up to the sound of violin. It was rather cruel and imperfect, the music, but she could tell where Gray was getting better. He did practice rather earnestly when he did, and that alone stopped her from telling him to quit. One thing Gray had was dedication.
She opened her eyes and saw a mounted torch burning on the wall. She yawned and stretched and her stomach sent her panic signals of hunger. Gray sat a few feet away from her, his entire attention focused on the violin.
‘Gray!’ she called. Gray stopped.
‘Food’s in the kitchen,’ he said before he started playing again.
Maya took a bottle of water out of her bag and got up. Her knees felt shaky, she hadn’t eaten in a long time now. She walked out into the dark corridor, the music following her. Striding outside the house, she washed up, blinking away the drops of water as she made her way back in. It was evening already and her eyes took time to get used to the darkness and the dead silence—apart from the screechy violin in motion. She took whatever food was left for her—there was enough of it—and she carried it outside, where she looked at the surroundings as she ate.
A certain cold was in the air, and lights were burning away in other windows. The lights flickered and she guessed the source was fire. The violin’s notes crept out and gave her a constant feeling of unease; luckily the mistakes Gray kept making frequently snapped her out of these phases. She stood at the foot of the dark water of a pond, looking at the long road leading away from the house. Behind the house there was nothing but untended land for what seemed to be kilometres together; it looked like a swamp, the weeds growing taller than her. Beyond the patch of land she could see other buildings, but they were quite far away, shimmering in the evening air like illusions. No, there was certainly only one viable entry and exit to this place. Sigh. She didn’t like the way their little adventure was going so far; Adri was beginning to gain her sympathy, and that, of course, did not help her future plans. Where was Adri anyway? Probably still away. Gray would know.
She went back into the house and moving slowly and carefully in the darkness, made her way back to the library where she finished off the last bite. Gray paused and looked up at her. ‘You okay, sis?’ he asked.
‘Yes. I think I feel better after the food. Where’s Adri?’
‘He’s in the basement, and he’s apparently not to be disturbed.’
‘The basement? What’s he doing there?’
‘He just said don’t disturb me, no matter what. You know, in that usual to-the-point way.’
Maya sat down next to her bag. Fine, she would wait for Adri to finish whatever the hell it was that he was upto. A well-fed stomach would make it easier, and from what she knew of him, he’d explain when pushed. She pulled one of Adri’s diary out of her bag, and the action caused her more guilt this time around. She waved her inhibitions aside temporarily, and started where she had left off. Lets learn some more things about you, Adri Sen.
‘I wanted to do a lot of things, you know,’ Aman said. There was an obvious and understandable sorrow to his voice, something Adri could relate to.
‘Yeah, well, the others miss you,’ Adri said.
There was silence, except for the soft burning of candles.
‘What about Natasha?’ Aman asked. ‘Does she miss me?’
‘We don’t really talk much,’ Adri replied truthfully. ‘Sorcerers and Necromancers have their reservations.’
‘I need you to deliver a message to her. Can you do that?’ Aman asked. Adri shook his head. ‘Why not?’ Aman persisted.
‘This is the unpleasant part, Aman. You should know this. The advanced rules cover this,’ Adri spoke. How come Aman hadn’t read up? He was supposed to know. He had been studying as a Necromancer too, after all.
‘No, I was more interested in Sorcery. I used to read more of their books.’
‘You were?’
‘Yes. I wanted to switch.’
‘You know MYTH wouldn’t have let you. Your Tantric studies had started too early. It’s not just a subject you were learning, you knew that.’
‘I would’ve tried, Adri! I was ready to convince even the Seven if needed.’
‘Fool. You never wanted Sorcery. You wanted Natasha.’
‘Yes I did, and I do!’ Aman sounded angry. The furniture in the room rattled, as did the windowpanes.
‘Easy, Aman.’
‘B
ut I do. I love her. I need you to tell her that. For me.’
Adri shook his head once more. ‘You are bound here by the thoughts of her,’ he said. ‘And more importantly, by the thoughts of her reciprocation.’
‘What has that got to do with—’
‘If she tells me she never had feelings for you, if she insults your memory, Aman, then your spirit will automatically be condemned to walk the earth for eternity until freed.’
Aman was silent. So was Adri.
‘That is not what I want for you. You were my friend,’ Adri continued, after letting his words sink in. ‘It will be tougher to leave the Plane with your question unanswered, but you have the option of leaving.’
‘I don’t want to go without knowing,’ Aman said slowly.
‘Maybe it’s better this way.’
‘No, Adri. It’s not. I would want to walk the earth forever. For her. Don’t you see that?’
‘It’ll get tiresome after a couple of hundred years, Aman,’ Adri warned.
‘I want that message delivered,’ Aman replied stubbornly.
‘What is the message then?’
‘What? You’ll deliver it?’
‘The message!’
Aman cleared his throat. ‘Natasha, it’s me, Aman. I wanted to tell you that the time we spent together meant everything to me, and that is what solely keeps me from fading away right now. I love you and I suspect I always will.’ He stopped. ‘Did you take that down?’
‘I was considering binding you from these words,’ Adri spoke slyly.
‘If you bind these words I swear I will kill you. You know I’m capable,’ Aman replied.
‘You wouldn’t kill me over a girl.’
‘Adri, you obviously don’t understand. It’s all some summoning game to you, isn’t it? Or is it practice? You doing this for MYTH marks, man?’
‘I don’t understand love,’ Adri confessed. ‘I’ve never really been loved.’
‘Your mother,’ Aman said. ‘She loved you, I’m sure.’
‘She died during childbirth, Aman. She never knew me.’
‘You don’t get it Adri! Love is not logical, that would be stupid. Your mother loved you for the months you were growing in her womb. I know she loved you. I can feel that aura around you.’
‘Then WHY does she not come when I call?’ Adri shouted in a sudden outburst. ‘You think you’re the only one I summon? I have called out to my mother’s spirit hundreds of times, Aman, since I learnt the art of summoning! I have called out to her again and again, yet she defies all the rules. She shows me no sign of her existence, she does not reply, she does not arrive! Why?’
Aman was silent.
‘And it’s the same story with you spirits, isn’t it? All of you know why she does not reply, but none of you will tell me.’
‘You are not Ba’al Ob, Adri,’ Aman murmured under his breath.
‘No, but I will be. And I will know,’ Adri said. ‘But I do not understand love until then, Aman. There is no proof, no matter what things are being hidden from my eyes.’ He waited for a few seconds, silent. ‘I am now going to bind you from that message you wished to pass on to Natasha.’
The knife on the table began to vibrate softly. ‘Do not interfere, human,’ Aman spoke noiselessly.
‘There is no such thing as love,’ Adri spoke through gritted teeth. ‘You cannot harm me for something non-existent.’
‘This is my last warning to you, friend,’ Aman’s voice was steadily growing colder and higher.
Adri slowly raised his right arm—and the door behind him opened. His father stood there, hand on the knob.
‘What’s happening, Adri?’ Victor asked.
Adri lowered his arm. ‘A routine summoning, Father.’
‘Hmmm. Talking to dead friends again, I see. Who is it this time?’
‘Aman.’
‘Hello, Mr Sen,’ Aman spoke, his voice now normal once more.
‘Hello, Aman. How are you these days? Restless?’
‘I’m afraid so.’
‘Well, you made some glasses break downstairs, and I loved those glasses. I will not tolerate something like that happening in my house. Do you understand?’
‘Won’t happen again, sir,’ Aman replied, a sense of embarrassment in his voice.
‘It better not. And Adri, I would expect you to keep a tighter leash on your spirits. If he is bypassing you and causing damage downstairs, your hold on him is weak. I don’t care if he’s your friend or whatever, the hold must be strong.’
‘I had lost focus, Father.’
‘You could get people killed, you idiot. You are evidently not ready for Demons yet. What use is all the training if you succumb to basic emotions like puppy love?’
The knife, as if in response, vibrated again.
‘You even think about it, spirit,’ Victor spoke calmly, glancing at the knife, ‘I will make you burn in eternal fire. Do you understand me?’
‘Yes, sir,’ Aman replied in a whisper, his tone indistinguishable.
‘You better know that you are in my house. I have demolished more spirits than you have seen in that Plane of yours. You will not think of even touching my son with your incompetence.’
Victor left, shutting the door gently. Adri raised his hand and performed the binding of the words. Aman never spoke words of love about Natasha ever again in his afterlife.
Maya stopped reading. Her head swam for a second, and she felt disoriented—she did not know what to think. She looked up and saw Adri standing in the doorway of the library, looking at her.
‘What are you reading?’ he asked.
‘Nothing, just some old notes,’ she replied slowly, hoping her voice did not give her away. Apparently, it didn’t.
‘You wanted to watch the Pyromancy, right?’
‘Yes, I did.’
‘Even I want to watch,’ Gray spoke up, putting his violin back in its case hurriedly.
‘I shall do it here then. But keep quiet,’ Adri said. Turning away from the siblings, he fished around inside his backpack and withdrew a small hip flask; then, looking around, he found a piece of un-burnt wood among the ashes. Clearing a circular space on the floorboards with the palm of his hand, he put the piece of wood down in the centre. It had once been part of a chair. Maya and Gray shuffled closer, in silence, watching Adri as he poured a clear, odourless liquid from the hip flask onto the piece of wood. Then, striking a match, he set the wood on fire.
It burned like anything else would, but Adri peered into the flames with a different kind of understanding. His eyes shone like liquid in the face of the flames and his lips moved softly as he read in the Old Tongue. He saw random words initially—the burning of an object confused its memories, and irrelevant information, the outermost layer, was always the first to burn off—Adri ignored it and started reading within, in the deeper layers of the flames. He read deeper and deeper in the dancing fire, until he reached the heart of the blaze; there, nestled within the outer inferno, was the inner fire, the true flame. There it crackled, calmly, slowly, gently eating up the wood which fuelled it. His eyes watered, but he did not blink, for then he would lose it—he stared at the pure fire and read the most recent memories of the burning piece of wood. He read it disbelievingly, he it read again, and then the strain on his eyes was too much—and he blinked.
Instantly the fire was just a fire again, the words, the language it had spoken to him drowned amidst the flames. Adri slowly sat back, thinking and wiping his eyes which were watering.
‘Are you okay?’ Maya asked. ‘You were so close to the flames I was afraid you’d—’
‘I’ve done this before,’ Adri said. ‘Don’t worry,’ he added.
‘So you read the fire?’ Gray asked.
‘Yes. And I saw what has caused this, something I can’t believe myself,’ his voice trailed off into deep thought.
‘A Dragon!’ Gray exclaimed.
Adri looked at him coldly. ‘The only Dragon that ever was belong
s to legend. This creature is far more real. It’s a Demon.’
‘Which kind of—’Maya began, but she had already guessed the answer.
‘An Infernal,’ Adri said, grim.
‘A Demon born of fire,’ Maya spoke slowly. ‘They haven’t been around for quite a while now.’
‘Nearly impossible to appease. But this, this is its handiwork.’
‘What else did you read?’
‘Nothing about my father. Just the Infernal.’
‘What do you plan to do now?’
Adri knew something was afoot, and if it involved a fire Demon it was even bigger than he realised. However, he was in no position to investigate any further, at least not now. He felt the weight of the Ai’nDuisht around his neck. It was doing its job well; he was still alive, but for how long he did not know. Death must be hunting for him; it was unwise to delay. I will come for you, Father, wherever you are. But what good am I to you dead?
‘I have to sort out my own problems first,’ Adri said. ‘I need to meet your elder brother urgently. I will see you safely back to New Kolkata—maybe your brother can help me there—before I figure this deal out.’
Gray nodded.
‘What do you want from Dada?’ Maya asked.
‘We’ve been through this, Maya. He has something that belongs to me.’
‘You’re not going to harm him in any way, right?’
‘No, I’m not,’ Adri spoke wearily. I just need some of his blood, that’s all.
‘When do we leave?’ Gray asked.
‘It’s risky, starting at night. We’ll wait till dawn. There’s enough food in the packet for dinner.’
A long wait. Everyone retreated to their corners in the giant room. Vishwak stumbled in just as they were settling down—Adri explained to a shocked Maya who he was—and squatted in the only empty corner of the room, wordless all the while. Adri took out a notebook and began to write in it. One glance at it told Maya that it was one of his diaries. She pretended not to notice what Adri was doing, far too nervous to bring out the diary in her possession and resume her reading; instead, she took out one of her Demonology books and began to look up Infernals in greater detail. Gray took out his violin once more, but he didn’t feel like playing and kept it back in, cleaning the instrument for a minute so that he wouldn’t look like an idiot. Not that anyone was watching. The only person idle was Vishwak, the old man was murmuring and humming something in a low voice. Gray took out his camera and began looking at the photos he had taken.
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