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Authors: Krishnarjun Bhattacharya

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BOOK: Tantrics Of Old
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No, the owner sat silently on a small wooden stool, between two large windows, their curtains billowing against the assault of the wind. His eyes were closed, and yet he did not seem relaxed; his body was taut, ready.

‘Commander!’ came a cry.

Demon Commander Ba’al’s eyes fluttered open. His red irises pierced through the semi-darkness of the room, and he looked at the messenger.

‘Speak,’ he said in a voice hard with experience.

The messenger was a gargoyle, an ugly creature made completely of stone, with huge bat wings protruding behind him. However, it chose to wear its inner skin in front of Ba’al, as a gesture of respect. Not that it made the gargoyle any less ugly. ‘A Demon has come from Hazra, Commander, bearing certain
news
.’

The Demon Commander nodded, and the gargoyle continued, ‘There were two Demons—warriors—patrolling one of the roads there when they were attacked. One of them was killed; the other one managed to escape his negative circle and has just reached us.’

‘Necromancers?’ Ba’al asked, an involuntary growl starting to build within his throat.

‘Yes, Commander. But just one. He had allies. The Demon who escaped, however, he has something to tell you in person. He requests an audience.’

‘Send him in.’

‘Forgive me, Commander, but I doubt he will fit.’

‘Ah yes. I will meet him in the courtyard then.’

The gargoyle bowed and exited the room. Ba’al got to his feet and turned around. He walked up to one of the large windows in the room and stepped off. Five floors down, he landed on his feet. Recovering from the drop, he looked around. The inner courtyard was empty as it should’ve been—the guards on the battlements were vigilant. Torches burned in brackets along the walls, casting light on the Demon before him. The Demon was evidently nervous; its tail was between its legs and it hung its head low in respect and anxiety. It towered over the Demon Commander with its size, but refused to impress. Ba’al surveyed it closely.

‘What is your name?’ he asked.

‘Gnu Shi’l Un Aishth, Commander,’ the Demon replied.

‘And your deceased partner?’

‘Garth Ol Eshan.’

‘Do not mourn him. He will be prayed for, if not remembered,’ Ba’al said. ‘What did you have to tell me, Gnu?’

The Demon lifted its eyes ever so slightly to look into the eyes of the Demon Commander. Meeting his burning gaze, it dropped its eyes again, immediately. ‘They were not MYTH. Of this I am certain, Commander.’

‘Not MYTH? Then who could they be, wandering around Old Kolkata with the power to end Demons?’ Ba’al mused.

‘I do not know, Commander. There were three of them. I took on the Tantric, but before my escape, I saw Garth under siege by three assailants. Magical arms by the sounds of them. I also saw some red blades fly, of the kind I haven’t seen before.’

‘Your escape let Garth die, incidentally. The power of two warrior Demons isn’t something they could have withstood easily. There is, after all, a reason why you are
paired
whence patrolling,’ Ba’al said, a rumble of anger in his deep voice.

‘Forgive me, Commander. I thought it best to live with the information of this enemy.’

‘Nothing you have said has been of any help so far. Unless—’

Ba’al approached Gnu, who immediately shrank back a little, looking tremendously scared. The Demon Commander stopped right in front of the Demon, however, and sniffed. His eyes opened ever so slightly as he sniffed again, and then again.

‘I do not have many Demons, Gnu. My forces are hardly as vast as MYTH’s,’ Ba’al said. ‘This war must be fought though, and the Old City cannot fall to the hands of the Necromancers. It is for this reason that I will let you live. Go and rest.’

Gnu trembled and sniffed as he slowly bowed before the Demon Commander before walking away as commanded, the ground moving under the weight of his footsteps. Ba’al stood, watching him go. After the giant creature had passed out of sight, he turned around and walked, but not back towards his tower. Instead, Ba’al chose to walk towards the hall he called the
Septaranium
, where his great collection of books was herded by the old man Hermlock. The great doors of the hall swung open as he approached, and they shut after he had passed through. Even though he was preoccupied, Ba’al remembered to tread lightly; he was barefoot and his claws could easily damage the Septaranium’s carpets. Hermlock saw him coming and shuffled towards him, but Ba’al waved him away as he passed. The old man understood; the master was going to his secret chamber.

It was behind a bookshelf. Ba’al was one to uphold certain clichés he felt were amusing, and secret passages behind bookshelves had existed since time immemorial. Nothing was amusing, however, about the passages beyond—all the richness and grandeur of the great library melted away into darkness and a tunnel made of dirty stone. A flame burst into existence in Ba’al’s open palm as he walked into the darkness. He could see in the dark; the fire was meant for things lurking in the darkness, so they would not think him for some treasure hunter.

And they did recognise him. It was Ba’al! Thus they did not even dare face him, they slithered and crawled away and hid as he approached. Everyone knew what the Demon Commander was capable of, no one wanted to test his patience, or ignite his wrath. Ba’al saw the entrance of the first room soon, but that was not where he was headed. The Demon Knights that stood guard at the first door saluted briefly as he passed by and then resumed their posts.

Ba’al immediately wished he had more Demon Knights in his army. They were, aside from a few special Demons he kept for special purposes, the most hardy and versatile soldiers he had ever had the honour of commanding. Once every now and then, a Tantric would decide he was powerful enough to summon a Demon Knight; in most cases this was not the situation and the Knight ended up killing the Tantric and finding its way to Ba’al to join the Free Demons. The Demon Commander could not summon Demons himself, and he dearly hated this restriction.

Doors went by and Ba’al did not stop. When he finally did, it was in front of a crude wooden door, unguarded. He opened it and the stench of blood washed over him immediately. Ba’al had already eaten so it did not affect him. He entered the room and spoke, ‘Chhaya.’

‘Master,’ replied a hiss that seemed to come from a corner.

Ba’al moved the fireball around and looked at all the corpses. ‘You’ve been rather busy, I see,’ he said. ‘Something has come up.’

‘You but have to ask,’ the creature replied, still in the darkness. Sounds of soft tearing of flesh reached Ba’al’s ears. Chhaya was still eating.

‘Adri Sen is in Old Kolkata,’ Ba’al said, and the sounds stopped. Liquid shadow swirled, soundlessly, immediately, and the creature formed itself in front of Ba’al, kneeling on one knee, its wings folded.

‘I remember him
quite
well, Master,’ Chhaya said, white fangs glinting in the semi-darkness.

‘I know, and thus you will be the one to recognise him the easiest,’ Ba’al said. ‘I have a task for you.’

‘I’m going to kill you, Adri Sen,’ Gray spoke.

Adri sat and thought. There wasn’t much time left.

‘I’m regretting the fact that I ever met you,’ Gray continued.

‘If that shotgun tells you to pull the trigger on me, don’t,’ Adri said, eyeing the Sadhu’s Shotgun with an amount of casual caution.

‘Yes, my shotgun talks to me all the time!’ Gray yelled. ‘What’s wrong with you? You’re going to kill my sister!’

‘Let me think,’ Adri said. ‘Shut up and let me think, Gray.’

‘I don’t believe this guy,’ Gray said, walking away from Adri, tearing at his white hair.

Adri lit a cigarette and thought about possible options. The dealers didn’t have Aujour. In fact, it would be pretty impossible to get it from anywhere at this time of the night. The Settlements would shoot them if they went knocking, and any stash he knew about was too far away to reach by sunrise. He needed people who brewed, who would use ingredients—

He stood up. An idea again. Reckless, but yes, would get the job done. Which was becoming his modus operandi ever so fast.

And what, pray, is your idea?
the Wraith asked.

‘The Hive. They will have Aujour.’

Pfft. They also have death, which they serve by the droves, and for free!

‘It’s the only shot left right now. It’s everything left in
me
right now,’ Adri spoke true. His strength was failing for lack of sleep, and yet his guilt kept him up. But it was also wearing him down and he knew he would not last for long now. He needed to do something about it before he had Maya’s blood on his hands.

Adri walked over to Fayne and had a talk with him. Fayne was okay with his idea, even though he said they wouldn’t live to pull it off. ‘We are not an army,’ were his exact words.

‘There are many entrances to the Hive. We aren’t going to take the main one. We’ll be sneaking in,’ Adri said.

‘You bear the mark on your wrist,’ Fayne said. ‘They will smell you. The hive is a network, they will come from everywhere.’

‘I’m prepared to take that chance. They have a range. How good are you at killing witches?’

‘I know them well. I was born of one,’ Fayne replied.

‘What?’ Adri exclaimed, thrown off guard.

‘Stories can wait,
pashlin
,’ Fayne said calmly. ‘Yes, I can kill them well.’

‘Gray will have to carry his sister then,’ Adri said, looking at Gray, who in the distance, was throwing stones at windows.

Imagine an area with twenty to thirty skyscrapers, and now imagine half of them collapsing into each other, merging within themselves and destroying each other partially, even penetrating the ground at places, breaking the roads, going underground. Now imagine a lack of light in such an area, turning it into a dark labyrinth of broken walls and collapsed passageways, some opening to the surface and some leading deeper into the subterranean. And finally, imagine a pack of predators taking over such an area for their lair, their home-ground, and one could probably come close to knowing what the Hive was. This was how Adri told Gray to imagine it, and Gray did not like it.

‘Wild goose chases, Adri. That’s all you’re leading us on while the clock is ticking on Maya.’

‘So far nothing has been irrelevant. I have gotten information at every single stop that we’ve made,’ Adri replied, now irritated. ‘If your sister hadn’t run off, I wouldn’t have had to resort to the corruption, which, by the way, is the reason she’s not sucking blood right now. Everything’s got another side to it, Gray. Grow up.’

‘You are being unreasonable,’ Fayne told Gray, who could not believe his ears.

‘I’m just concerned, okay?’ he protested vehemently. ‘My sister’s dying!’

‘You can help instead of complaining,’ Adri said. ‘For example, you can show an interest in where we are headed right now.’

It took Gray some time to swallow his anger and pride. He knew he was being a little unreasonable, but he didn’t want to stop; he was feeling increasingly helpless and he needed someone to blame. But he was curious; they had been travelling for the longest time now. Sunrise was not too far away and Adri seemed to have a plan up his sleeve once more. Better to let go of the anger and hear it out.

‘Where are we headed then?’ he asked. ‘Take a deep breath, Gray. Anger never gets you anywhere,’ Adri said.

Gray nodded, biting back an urge to start shouting again.

‘Good. We’re headed to the Hive, the place I just told you to imagine. It’s the lair of the Dynes, the witches. When in human form, they are fantastic brewers, which means they will have entire assortments of ingredients there. Aujour should easily be found. What is not easy is getting there.’

‘Wasn’t it
one
witch that gave you the shoulder wound?’ Gray asked incredulously. ‘How many will the Hive have?’

‘A little less than a thousand, if my estimates are correct.’

‘A thousand? A thousand witches?’ Gray squeaked.

The very chance of their survival lay in the less populated routes, the ones the witches avoided. The tunnels were numerous, and travellers usually stuck to a route until the witches discovered their travelling with nasty ambushes; then the routes were changed. Adri had been through the Hive many times without harm. But tonight they needed to go where he had never gone before—to the very heart of the place where the elder Dynes lived. There was almost no chance, Adri knew, of reaching and leaving the place alive with the amount of Aujour needed—but caution was for the winds now. The clock was ticking; any chance would have to be taken if it served the purpose at hand.

BOOK: Tantrics Of Old
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