Ash Mistry and the Savage Fortress (16 page)

BOOK: Ash Mistry and the Savage Fortress
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ave you ever been on safari?” Savage moved his teaspoon round the cup, the silver chiming musically against the thin china.

Ash smiled at his sister as she sat down. He wanted to encourage her, but tears flooded his eyes and the smile threatened to become a sob.

“Lucks, are you OK?” Ash asked.

Lucky stared at him, pale, and her eyes red and exhausted. She didn’t look like she’d slept at all. “I’m… fine,” she whispered.

He’d tried so hard – tried and failed. Chest heaving, he moved his hand across the table towards his sister. Their
fingers just touched before Jackie pulled Lucky back against her chair. Lucky sat, head bowed down to her chest. She looked small and fragile under the shadow of Jackie.

“Have you seen how jackals hunt?” Savage said.

A low chuckle came from Jackie. Ash glared at her as she put her hand on Lucky’s shoulder. His sister flinched.

“Don’t you dare hurt her,” Ash said. Jackie didn’t even raise an eyebrow. The rakshasa knew his threats were empty. “She hasn’t done anything.”

Savage continued. “They hamstring the prey. It’s usually a calf, one that’s young and soft. One that won’t put up a fight.” He glanced at Lucky. “Eat up, my dear. Those eggs are fresh.”

“Leave her alone,” Ash whispered, but all his fight was gone.

“The calf just lies there, eyes rolling madly, can’t get up, can’t defend itself. Then the jackals go in. Not for the throat, or the chest. Not for the quick kill. They tear open its belly. Nuzzle inside, get all the soft juicy bits. All the time they’re doing it, eating the calf from within, it’s still bleating and its eyes are staring around everywhere, desperately hoping someone will save it.” Savage sipped the tea. “Can you imagine the pain? Being devoured while you’re still alive? I’m sure it’s quite dreadful.”

Ash closed his eyes to stop the giddiness. He gulped the damp air, hoping he wouldn’t puke. He was imagining it right now.

“Then, with its heartbeat weakening, the calf gives up. The hope fades and the last look it has, in those innocent big brown eyes, is one of despair. Hopelessness. Complete defeat.” He set the cup down on the saucer. “Do you know that feeling, Ash?”

Ash looked up. Hot tears rolled freely now.

“Please don’t hurt her,” Ash begged.

Savage sighed. “Yes, I think you do.” He dabbed his mouth clean. Breakfast was finished, business was over, he’d won. “Where is the aastra?”

“Don’t tell him, Ash!” Lucky cried.

What could Ash do? If he gave Savage the aastra, then Ravana was free and that meant terror and nightmares for the world. But this was his sister. She’d done nothing wrong. Ash pushed his fists against his eyes.

“Wait,” Ash said. “I’ll make you a deal.” He met Savage’s gaze. “My life for hers.”

“No! I’m not scared.” Lucky struggled to get up, but Jackie’s hands pressed down on her shoulders.

“You would die for your sister, I admire that. But that is not
part of the deal. If you tell me where the aastra is, I will have you and Lucky on the first flight back to England. First class.”

“You’re lying. You’ll kill us both.”

“Why would I do that? You will be unharmed as long as you give me the aastra. You have my word as a gentleman.”

“How can I trust your word?”

“You have no choice.” Savage raised his finger and Mayar moved his chair back. The Englishman stood unsteadily; he needed Mayar’s arm to support him. He was so old, so frail, he’d crumble with a sneeze. If Ash could delay things, then maybe Savage would die first. He didn’t look like he’d last five more days.

But Savage wasn’t going to give him five minutes. “You’re trying my patience, boy,” he said.

Jackie sniggered and smacked her lips.

Ash gave up. “I hid it behind the statue,” he said. “In the street where you found me.”

Savage half turned to Mayar. “You know it?”

“Yes, Master.”

Savage nodded. “Then go.”

Mayar bowed and went swiftly. Savage addressed Jackie and the spider-woman, Makdi. “Take our two guests and put them somewhere safe, and apart.”

“But I told you where the aastra is,” said Ash.

“We shall see.” He took up his tiger-headed cane. “If you’re lying to me, I will be most disappointed. I will feed your sister to my demons and she will die slowly and in agony and you will watch. You have my word on that as, well…” he smiled, “… as a gentleman.”

akdi snapped her fingers once Savage had gone.

“Come,” she said.

Ash rose. He moved mechanically, just following orders. Lucky sniffed, trying to be brave, but her eyes were so wide with terror the whites were visible all round the pupils. Jackie still rested her hands on her shoulders, and the jackal demon’s nails were thick enough to slice Lucky to the bone.

“I’ll come and get you, Lucks,” Ash said. “I… I promise. I will.”

Jackie chuckled.

Ash stopped and faced his sister. “You believe me, don’t you?”

They looked at each other, and Lucky’s hopelessness cut his soul. She knew there was nothing he could do. They both knew it. But Lucky nodded.

“Yes, Ash.” Her voice almost broke.

She doesn’t believe me. Why should she?

I can’t do anything.

Makdi led him to a small, heavy door set deep in a wall recess. She lit an old-fashioned brass oil lamp and pushed Ash down a narrow spiral staircase. The air became more humid the deeper they descended, still and stale. Down and down they went.

“Where are you taking me?” Ash asked.

“Somewhere safe.”

The steps opened into a small chamber with a domed ceiling, barely high enough to stand up in. Mouldy straw covered the floor and the room was empty but for a bucket with a long length of frayed rope attached to the handle. The woman scraped back the straw, revealing a large iron grille. The bars were thicker than Ash’s fingers and rusty, but solid. Peering through the grille Ash could make out a large pit. He had seen one of these chambers in the Tower of London. It was called an oubliette. Prisoners were put in them to be forgotten.

“No,” said Ash. He backed up, trying to get on to the steps, but Makdi blocked him. Ash grabbed her arm and tried to pull her aside.

A lump moved under her sleeve, and a pair of spindly, hairy legs touched the bare skin of her wrist. Then another pair of long legs protruded, followed by the bloated black body of an enormous spider. It crept over her hand and Ash let go. The spider jumped and scuttled up his arm.

“Don’t scream,” whispered the woman. “You might startle Charlotte.”

Charlotte the spider perched herself on Ash’s collar, tapping her front legs on his bare neck. Ash didn’t scream. He didn’t breathe. Only his eyes moved, looking sideways at the black monstrosity.

“No, please, I won’t cause any trouble.” Anything but putting him down there. The spider crept higher, and Ash felt the individual hairs of its legs tickle his throat. He stood perfectly still.

Makdi lifted up one side of the heavy iron grille. The hinges screamed and flakes of rust shook loose from the bars.

She stood in front of Ash.

“Bye bye.”

She pushed Ash backwards. Ash dropped a few metres then hit the ground, landing awkwardly. He tried to get back up, but cried out in pain as he put his weight on his left foot. His ankle throbbed.

“Please, don’t leave me!” he shouted.

Makdi crouched at the edge of the pit, looking down at him with sullen indifference, like he was some kind of science experiment. Was that how rakshasas saw humans? She held out her hand.

Charlotte, sitting a metre or so from Ash, ran to the wall of the pit and through the grille. It crept on to Makdi’s palm. She stroked it before tucking the spider into her pocket. The grille slammed down and the light faded until it was the barest glow. Then that too disappeared, and Ash was abandoned in the bowels of the Savage Fortress.

 

Time stopped down there in the dark. It could only be measured by Ash’s thudding heartbeat, too fast and too loud. He sat with his knees tucked under his chin, arms wrapped around himself, and didn’t let go. If he did, he would dissolve into the blackness. Eyes closed, eyes open, it didn’t make any difference.

No escape. No escape.

He didn’t even try. What was the point? Savage had Lucky.

Ash groaned, shivering there in the lowest dungeons of the fortress. Water plonked into a small puddle somewhere else in the cell.

Scritch scritch scritch.

Something ran over his feet. Ash slapped at it and there was a wet squelch. His hand came away covered in a web of sticky goo and bits of insect carapace.

Things scuttled over the bare stone. The sound of their scurrying made Ash’s skin crawl. He heard the sharp, eager squeak of rats and recoiled as a long, leathery tail brushed his hand. A tongue licked his ankle.

Ash wept, great rib-shaking sobs that echoed off the walls so it seemed the cell itself was crying.

I can’t do this.

But he could, he had to. He got up and, arms outstretched, limped to the edge of the cell. Water dripped down from somewhere and the walls felt spotted with spongy moss. There were crevasses in the rock, and for a second Ash thought they might lead out of the cell, but none went deeper or wider than his arm.

He tried to climb the walls, but it was hopeless; the stone was too slick.

Here, alone, with time going nowhere, Ash was in perfect hell.

“Please…”

He knelt down and leaned forward until his forehead touched the ground, praying Savage would take pity on him and let him go. But Savage and the rest of the world had forgotten him.

Ash curled up. He buried his head against his chest, covering it with his arms. There he lay.

And there he stayed.

he sharp, hot bite woke him. Needle-pointed teeth dug into the swollen flesh of his ankle and a slimy tongue lapped at the wound.

Ash snapped his other foot into the rat. The rodent squealed and thumped against the wall. Ash pressed his hand down on the bite, warm blood covering his foot. It burned worse than the sprained ankle.

Then Ash cried as the animal sank its teeth deep into his fingers before scurrying away, pulling off skin as it ran. It wasn’t scared of Ash.

Ash glared around, but it was still utterly dark. He wasn’t sure if he was awake or dreaming.

The rat darted at him again and Ash kicked out wildly, but the vermin still managed to bite his toe, hanging on for an extra second or two before fleeing. More rodent feet skittered along the flagstones, splashing in and out of the puddles. How many were there?

A loud hiss rose from somewhere in the cell, followed by a sharp squeak. Claws scrabbled on the floor as the rat fought frantically, its cries rising in fear.

Then bones crunched and all was silent.

Ash backed away, pressing himself against the wall. What
else
was down here?

A weak, orange glow spread across the chamber above his cell. A silhouette appeared, standing on the grille and peering down. In one hand was a silver-topped cane, in the other a lamp.

“Making new friends?” asked Savage.

Ash stared. Was he about to be set free? Did Savage have the aastra? He swallowed a bitter lump of dread.

“Where’s Lucky?”

“Quite safe. For now.”

For now? How much time had passed?

“Please let me out. I won’t do anything.”

Savage smiled. A thread of blood ran down his cheek and
fell. The bead of red splashed on Ash’s shoulder, staining the white material with a crimson spot. “I know you won’t. Down there.”

“If you’re not going to free me, why did you come?” There was iron in Ash’s voice. He didn’t know where it had come from. Maybe he had found his dormant anger because he had nothing left to lose. “Surely you’re not afraid of me?”

“Afraid? Why should I be afraid of you?”

“You tell me.”

Ash had stolen the aastra. He’d hidden from Savage for weeks. He’d killed Jat. Savage had had to resort to threatening a ten-year-old girl to get what he wanted, to beat Ash. Ash met the man’s gaze and, he didn’t know why, smiled.

“You’re just a boy,” snapped Savage. “And this is the real world. In this world, children lose. Always.”

The lamp clattered on the floor and the footsteps retreated back up the steps and away. Ash stood staring up at the amber light spilling some weak illumination down into the pit.

“What a windbag.”

Ash turned. Someone had spoken. Someone in the cell with him.

“Hello?” he asked.

“Savage always did love the sound of his own voice.”

“Who’s there?” he asked, brow furrowed as he peered into the gloom around him. He was sure the voice had come from somewhere to his left. And it sounded familiar.

Impossible. I’m going insane.

Ash gave a harsh, cracked laugh. Insane. It hadn’t taken long.

“I’m glad you find all of this so funny,” said Parvati as she stepped out of the darkness. She gazed up at the grille above them.

“Parvati?” Ash whispered. He stared, not daring to blink in case she vanished. She looked like she was dressed in a skintight suit of shimmering green and black scales, but then he realised it was her skin; she was halfway between human and serpent. “What are you doing here?”

Parvati flexed her long, elegant fingers, cracking each one methodically.

“Saving the day,” she said. “As usual.”

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