Tantrics Of Old (11 page)

Right now it was too early to think about the future. Right now, he needed to survive the dawn. And he needed the Fallen to be there, at the station, with some miracle. Adri looked down and realised his hands were shaking.

The train lost speed as it neared its destination. If anyone bothered to stick their heads out of the window and check, the station would initially appear in the distance as a dull speck of light, growing larger. The three of them gathered their things, waiting. Adri seemed tense to the other two, and they kept the silence brewing in return. When the train finally slowed to a halt, they made their way out into the platform’s flickering light.

The platform was desolate. Lonesome figures made their way out of the train, shuffling towards the exits. The engine shut down, rendering the whole atmosphere silent. Maya looked around. Dirt, filth, newspapers, garbage, plastic bags, leftovers of things old, all strewn around. Abandonment. The walls old, the plants creeping through brick. There were no electrical lights; a series of ancient torches instead, flickering fire along the crumbling walls, casting light and strange shadows over the dead train and the dark tunnel beyond. The place seemed unbidden, forgotten, and for someone who had grown up in the neatness of New Kolkata, a very cold welcome indeed.

Gray did not waste too much time looking about. Fumbling around in his backpack, he withdrew his camera and busied himself. Maya looked at Adri, he was stationary, looking at something carefully, but not at the surroundings—no, Adri had definitely been here before. He was peering at a group of homeless people huddled together in a far off corner of the platform, paying absolutely no attention to the three of them. Maya had seen such people before. She wondered what Adri was looking for.

She found out soon enough, but not before Gray caught the attention of the entire group of homeless with a blinding flash from his camera. Instant apologies about how it had gone off by mistake did not please Adri. Just as the young Tantric was beginning to worry, a figure detached itself from the shadows of one of the exits and began walking silently towards them. It wore a dark blue hooded jacket, face hidden beneath the hood. Adri was more than relieved to see the Fallen approach them.

‘You guys are really good at maintaining a low profile. Camera flashes attract witches faster than blood,’ Aurcoe spoke smoothly.

Adri turned to the other two. ‘I have to talk to him for a minute,’ he said and holding the Fallen’s shoulder, led him away.

‘Real funny, Aurcoe. The information about Gray Ghosh
slipping
your mind,’ he snarled.

Aurcoe’s eyes glowed a light blue in the darkness of his hood, and there was a ghost of a smile on his face. ‘C’mon, Sen, I don’t see you complaining. You now have
two
chances at that Angel instead.’

‘I bet you’re really happy about it.’

‘Only if you can get the blood. If you fail, our deal is off and your story has a short ending.’

‘I know what I’m up against,’ Adri said.

‘No you don’t, Sen,’ Aurcoe smiled slyly. ‘You have
no
clue what you’re up against, but I’m going to find that out for you.
If
.’

Adri felt anger quickly take over his sense of relief. His mistrust of the creature was rearing its head again, but he couldn’t let that make the decisions for him.

‘I’m on your side. Relax, Sen,’ Aurcoe spoke, lowering his voice. ‘I’ve got something for you, something that will save your behind.’ The Fallen reached into his pocket, withdrew something, and handed it over.

Adri looked at it and drew in a sharp breath. It was an amulet, a pendant—a small pentacle carved out of what appeared to be silver—hanging from a thin silver chain. A piece of beautiful craftsmanship, extremely fine, exquisite work, miniscule writing inscribed all over it. Adri turned it over in his hands, studying it, not able to believe his eyes. ‘Is this—’

‘
Ai’n Duisht
? Yes, it is.’

‘The Pentacle of the Crescent Moon,’ Adri whispered. He tried reading the inscriptions, squinting in the dim light.

‘It’s real, you don’t need to check,’ the Fallen snapped.

Adri looked up at him. ‘How does it work?’

‘It’s an artefact of the moon, so it’ll shield you, but it can only shield you from the
gaze
; wear it, and the Horseman won’t be able to find you. If he’s close enough he can sense you though, so don’t go dancing naked in front of Death. It does not grant you invisibility, it merely shields your aura.’

‘How did you get this?’

‘No, no, no, Sen, you got it wrong. This is where you’re supposed to say thanks.’

‘How is the
Ai’nDuisht
with
you
?’

‘Look, I don’t ask you where
you
get your stuff from—’

‘You know everything there is to know about me! It’s your job to know!’ Adri cut in. ‘And now you have an artefact of such power with you; Fallen, you do not make it easier for me to trust you.’

Aurcoe smirked at Adri’s outburst. ‘It is going to save you from the morning. I
could
tell you where I got it. I promise you that you’ll still take it, perhaps with a heavier conscience.’

Adri glared at Aurcoe, realising the truth in the Fallen’s words. The amulet was exactly what he needed. He didn’t need to know how many throats had been slit for this. It was saving his life, and for now that was what he needed. He wore the amulet quickly, and immediately felt its power radiate in a magical throb as it recognised its new owner. Then it lay perfectly still, hanging from his neck like any other trinket. Adri slipped it inside his shirt.

‘It’s not a gift,’ the Fallen spoke. ‘I shall want it back after this ordeal is over.’

‘Fallen can’t wear amulets, right? Your damnation saps the magic away immediately,’ Adri said, a touch of savage pleasure in his voice. ‘This is just a pretty object for you.’

‘If you do your job, Sen, I do not intend on staying among the Fallen for much longer,’ Aurcoe said.

‘How do I let you know when I have the blood?’

‘I’ll find you.’

‘You better have all the information ready by then.’

‘Calm down, my child. Composure, composure. After all, the owner of the pretty little necklace should be kept happy, isn’t it?’

‘You have me over a barrel, freak.’

‘Yes I do. What’s your move now?’

‘A Dyne got our scents. I think I’ll avoid witch territory completely and go around the longer way. Right now, we’re going to my place here in Patuli.’

‘Witches. Great, just great. Say hello to Victor for me when you get home.’

Adri grunted in reply.

‘You guys should settle your differences, seriously. Ah, all the pain,’ Aurcoe said.

‘You keep out of this one,’ Adri shot back.

‘I’m leaving then. Sen?’

‘Yes?’

‘Blink.’

Adri blinked his eyes. Aurcoe had disappeared.

The miracle he had wanted was hanging around his neck. Aurcoe had, despite all his fears and the evident lack of trust, given him the means to run. An extension to his death sentence, a very generous one. Relief washed over Adri in warm waves. The world momentarily felt normal again. He could think clearly now and plan his next move. He breathed deep, and it felt good.
God
, it felt good.

He turned back to find Gray hopping around a burning torch, photographing it from every possible angle. Maya was sitting under the torch and reading a book bound in brown paper. Adri lightly wondered if it was a sleazy novel. ‘Let’s go.’ He motioned to the two of them. ‘We need to get a move on.’

‘He left? Who was he?’ Maya asked, hurriedly stuffing the book into her backpack, further raising Adri’s suspicions.

‘An informant. Some general stuff, nothing important,’ Adri replied.

‘I’ve never seen a burning torch before. This looks incredible!’ Gray chimed. ‘Just look at this picture! I’m going to have a lot of photographing to do!’

Maya looked at the picture. Adri turned to Gray. ‘Conserve your camera batteries; you will probably see better things than old burning torches.’

Gray missed the sarcasm. ‘That’s cool, I’ll charge whenever—’

‘Old Kolkata does not have a central transformer. There is no electricity to be found here.’ Adri jerked a thumb at the torches as he moved towards the exit. ‘That’s magic burning.’

Gray’s eyes widened and he looked at the torches again, stunned. Even Maya cast an interested glance before they carried on. A dark set of stairs, lit by a distant torch, led them to a long, sinister hallway at the end of which there was yet another staircase, this one illuminated by first light. Stepping forth from the mouth of the subway, the siblings got their first glimpse of Old Kolkata as the young sun rose to greet them in the eastern skies.

A city that is old, a city that has been
To write for you is the toughest thing
You have resisted, kept away
You have hidden your secrets
from me, from those you have not trusted
How does one earn your trust?

So I am born of you
And I, here, with you
I bathe in your sunshine
I breathe in your rain
I pick up your earth once again, once again

Where is it that I can look for you?
I talk to you, I tell you things
I stand tall above your crumbled buildings
I stand deep beneath your darkest recesses
I am here where you are

In your stagnancy I smell life
In your arms I will feel death
In your embrace I will breathe my last
I will return to you, from whence I came
.

Only a few people were visible as the trio walked through the streets of Old Kolkata. These few mostly walked in groups, or were loners, and everyone kept their distance; there was an aura of discomfort in the air. Maya could feel eyes watching them from behind barred windows. She did not like it. Adri constantly kept glancing over his shoulder in a guarded manner. It didn’t help things. They walked in silence as a morning breeze blew, its gentle swoosh the only sound breaking the quiet—things were unnaturally quiet, and they were sure that it would be easy to overhear them even at longer distances.

Gray, wanting to talk, whispered, ‘It’s unnaturally quiet.’

‘Yeah,’ Maya agreed. Both of them looked expectantly at Adri as they walked, searching for an explanation. He didn’t disappoint.

‘The Old City is mostly like this.’

‘Ghost town,’ Gray said.

The entrances to almost all the buildings they crossed were secured by massive chains and padlocks and metal shutters. It effectively looked like a city in lockdown, afraid of the daylight and all that came with it. Everything was dead silent, except for the occasional dim sound of music playing, or films running, hidden away inside structures, and other hushed voices making hushed conversation in places unseen.

‘Old Kolkata is like this all the time?’ Gray asked.

‘Gariya is like this. The landscape of the Old City is quite drastically diverse; you’ll find every kind of place here. Before its expansion it was just a city, but it’s like a small country now. It’s still called the Old City though, which makes it the largest city in the world at present.’

‘The only city in the world without a government,’ Maya said.

‘That might change soon,’ Gray spoke. ‘MYTH is trying hard to take control, right?’

Adri shook his head. ‘The territory wars are a more complex matter than that.’

‘Complex as in? It’s MYTH versus the Free Demons,’ Gray argued.

‘You forget the Coven.’

‘The who?’

‘The witches. They hold quite a lot of territory here, and as far as I know, neither MYTH nor the Demons have tried to negotiate with them. And anyway, even if MYTH wins they will not gain control over all of Old Kolkata. MYTH has allied with the Angels in the territory wars, and the Angels will obviously want something back from MYTH. And MYTH has also been attempting a Great Purification rather unsuccessfully for quite some time now; the Old City, as I told you before, is as big as a small country and there are far too many dangers tucked away.’

‘Wasn’t the first Great Purification the political term for what they did to New Kolkata in the beginning?’ Maya asked. Demonology had always kept her away from current affairs.