Tantrics Of Old (4 page)

‘Obviously,’ Aurcoe replied. ‘I’m not an idiot, Sen. Tell me.’

Adri looked at Aurcoe seriously. A moment of silence. Adri took a deep breath. ‘Have you heard of the Horsemen of Old Kolkata?’

Aurcoe did not reply immediately. He looked at Adri, his eyes fast, calculating. His smile was gone. CLANK. The waiter had appeared with Adri’s coffee. Adri took a sip and burnt his tongue.

‘Four,’ Aurcoe said, grim. ‘Four Horsemen. War, Death, Famine, and Pestilence.’

‘What else?’

‘Not much. The usual rumours of their connection to the Apocalypse. Their functions are unknown, most information being old wives’ tales. But contrary to a lot of ghost stories, they are for real.’

‘Tell me about it,’ Adri sighed. ‘Death paid me a visit this morning.’

‘The Horseman came to your apartment?’

Adri nodded.

‘What did it want?’

‘My fucking soul. It has given me twenty-four hours to make my arrangements.’ Adri hated being straightforward with Aurcoe, and more than anything, being honest. His kind would never reciprocate. They had no honour. Information was like a weapon for his breed, and Adri was handing Aurcoe an arsenal. There was no way of knowing if this creature was lying about the limits of his knowledge about the Horsemen, but one thing was certain—his mention of the Horsemen had caught Aurcoe’s attention. This was not a routine affair. Irritatingly, however, Adri could not help but notice that Aurcoe’s annoying smile was back.

‘You
have
a soul, then?’ Aurcoe smirked.

‘The clock is ticking, damn it,’ Adri replied, irritated.

‘I knew this would be about you. Self-preservation, yet again. Tantrics, you know one, you known them all.’

‘Are you going to help me or not?’

‘Twenty-four hours? By now it’s what, twenty-one left? You honestly
think
I can help you?’

‘So I’m wasting my time?’

‘If the Horseman wants your soul, the Horseman will have it. Who am I to hold him back? And to tell you the truth, Sen,’ Aurcoe shuffled closer, ‘I think you fully well deserve it. The things that you have done—’

‘Have no place in this conversation,’ Adri finished, unmoved. ‘And look who’s talking.’

‘Ouch! That hurt, Sen!’ Aurcoe pretended to wince.

‘I haven’t even started yet, Aurcoe.’ Adri put his leather sling bag on the table with a soft thud. He knew Aurcoe would sense the magical energy emanating from within and easily identify the shooter in the bag.

Aurcoe glanced down at the bag, and then up again at Adri. ‘Like father, like son. Surprising how quickly even Victor would resort to cheap threats.’

Aurcoe had hit something, and Adri recoiled. ‘Look,’ he said, barely controlling himself, ‘I don’t have either the time or the patience for your little games. I hate your kind and I hate how you twist words and facts and everything else. In fact, Aurcoe, I hate you. I hate your guts. And nothing would give me more pleasure than to see the things you want the most, denied to you. But that has nothing to do with this. My life is in question and you’re the only one I trust to have enough knowledge to pull me out of this mess.’

‘You been practicing that?’ Aurcoe chuckled. ‘In front of a mirror? Doesn’t change anything, you know. I told you—’

‘What you told me has no place here either. You think I don’t know you, Fallen? It’s not a question of what
I
want.’ Adri looked at Aurcoe, gravely. ‘The question here is what do
you
want?’

Aurcoe burst into laughter, clapping his hands ecstatically like a child. ‘Oh very good, very good indeed, Sen! I love your hate. I
feed
off it, in fact.’ His eyes twinkled. ‘Well, now you need to tell me more. Why shouldn’t Death have come for you?’

‘Because Death does not come for everyone. People die every day.’

‘So it’s come for you. Maybe it decides to be random.’

‘Nothing is random. You know that.’

‘What are your leads?’

‘Something the Horseman said. Something
s
, actually.’

‘Elucidate.’

Adri took a moment to recollect. ‘Death said it had been
searching
for me. And that’s not all. It used the words “as per the rules” while telling me that I had twenty-four hours to settle my affairs.’

‘So there are rules,’ Aurcoe pondered.

‘Exactly,’ Adri remarked. ‘There are rules, and he was hunting for me. This is planned, and this has been done before.’

‘Someone is setting you up.’

‘I think so, yes.’

‘So who did you piss off last?’

‘I can’t say I remember. I have many enemies.’ Adri regretted saying the words the moment they left his mouth.

Aurcoe did not let it pass. ‘I have many enemies,’ he mimicked in mock seriousness. ‘Look at me, I’m so dramatic and serious and mysterious and dark and cool.’

‘I generally piss off people and all other kinds of entities, all right?’ Adri sighed, raising his hands in the air.

‘Not much to go on though,’ Aurcoe remarked, mostly to himself.

Adri looked at him. If he knew the creature well, Aurcoe would soon make his demand, and if he did, Adri could rest assured that the pest was capable of finding out what he needed to know. The Fallen were very confident, but fickle. However, Adri could still not be sure if Aurcoe was really interested, or if everything said so far had been worth Aurcoe’s time.

‘Very well, Sen,’ Aurcoe declared after a pause. ‘I can get you the information you want and I can point you out in the right direction as well. But—’

‘What do you want?’ Adri was desperate to hear this bit. He did not want Aurcoe to recite the favourite fantasy of the Fallen. There was, however, no escape.

‘What else, Sen? What else can a Fallen possibly want?’ Aurcoe smiled broadly.

‘C’mon Aurcoe. Not that. Why
that
?’ Adri voiced a feeble protest.

The Fallen were a cursed race. Having fallen from the grace of all things holy and pure, and finding no refuge among the ranks of the unholy breeds either, they were a condemned species that lurked midway between the two, fuelling conflict and solving problems for a price, trying to either win their way back into the higher order, or commit deeds low enough for them to be accepted into the nether orders. They had once been Angels, proud and powerful, but their wings had been ripped off, their skin not retaining the sheen, their blood losing its magical value and rendering them powerless as warriors. The Fallen were damned, but their salvation was always at hand—an essence that they could not procure themselves, yet was the simple path to the restoration of their power and honour. A simple solution for instant redemption.

‘The blood of an Angel,’ Aurcoe whispered, and Adri thought he saw the want in his eyes, the desperation, the thirst.

‘Why now? You haven’t asked for it before,’ Adri said.

‘You haven’t asked for
this
before,’ Aurcoe snapped. ‘What I’m getting into isn’t normal, Sen. Even with your limited human senses you should be able to see that. This is big, possibly bigger than you. And if little old me is endangering his existence with this whole poking around business, I might as well get the ultimate reward.’

‘Why not ask someone else? This is not the only deal you’re making, I’m sure.’

‘I’m cancelling my other appointments the moment I get into this, Sen. Make no mistake, this will eat up all my time. And I’m asking
you
to get it because I know you’ll manage it. Not praise, mind you. You’re pathetic, but you’ll manage nicely, I think.’

‘The fact that you’re
still
a Fallen proves that people don’t succeed often, Aurcoe.’

‘What, you want praise now? Look, Sen. People have failed, yes. It’s not an easy thing to get. But I know what kind of birds you Necromancers are, the whole lot of you. And I’ve seen you go to any lengths to protect your measly little lives.’

Adri drew back grimly. The blood of Angels. It was twisted—a dirty job, not to mention tough as hell. A lot of lying was involved. Lies and life risks. But that’s what came out of associating with the Fallen. Adri took another sip of his coffee, now cold. ‘I take it that you have an Angel in mind?’ he asked.

‘Yes. But you know how tricky they are,’ Aurcoe said.

‘After dealing with your kind? Hardly.’

‘I will pretend I didn’t hear that. But you do know the magical formula that guards their presence, don’t you?’

Adri knew. It was complicated magic, meant to prevent anyone from discovering the Angel’s true form, even with Second Sight. There were two exceptions to this though—one, if the Angel chose to reveal himself, then he would be seen as he was. The second, they could be traced through their siblings from the human families they led their disguised, earthly lives with. Adri would, in other words, need a sibling of the Angel in question.

‘You will need a sibling,’ Aurcoe said. ‘I will give you a heads up. The gracious donor is a powerful warrior Angel called Kaavsh. He will be found near the outer borders of the Lake of Fire. Old Kolkata.’

Adri groaned. ‘Can’t you find someone lesser? Someone easier to get to? The Lake of Fire is where the war is right now, isn’t it?’

Aurcoe stared. ‘The point,’ he said, ‘is to get blood with good, strong magical power. And the territory wars are happening in a lot of places, one of them being the Lake of Fire.
You
should be able to survive in Old Kolkata.’

Adri looked at the Fallen, restraining himself from strangling the creature.

‘On the other hand,’ Aurcoe continued, ‘Kaavsh’s sibling is quite close. A girl in Jadavpur University.’

The creature was crossing a line now, Adri realised in horror. It was taking a personal delight in arranging certain things for him. ‘I am
not
dragging a girl across Old Kolkata,’ Adri said stubbornly. ‘Not happening. And there is no way this girl will even agree.’

‘Hypnotise her for all I care,’ Aurcoe retorted, equally stubborn. ‘She’s your only ticket, Sen. I don’t care how you do it. Her name is Maya Ghosh.’

‘Maya . . .’ Adri repeated. He didn’t know hypnosis. ‘Is that all? How do I even contact you?’

‘When you do have the blood,’ the Fallen said, ‘I will find you.’

‘I cannot reach the Lake of Fire in a day, Aurcoe. Even if I start now, it’s impossible.’

‘Concentrate your energies on the girl for now. I will take care of your deadline. Meet me in Old Kolkata tonight. The station. Try and make it before dawn.’

‘You really need to take care of the deadline. If something happens to me, you stay Fallen,’ Adri said, a final reminder.

This seemed like the only way out. Aurcoe was not to be trusted, but he’d take care of it. Unless Adri’s enemies had already hired him earlier . . . Adri shook his head, trying to push back all the horrible thoughts. They were not helping. The task at hand was a curious one—he was not good at convincing people, especially girls.

Aurcoe teleported out of the joint, a convenient exit. Adri had to face the crowd again, jostling and apologising.

The plan was simple: Get into the university, get Maya Ghosh, and get out. A problem though—Adri did not know what she looked like. Then there were the Guardians, watching over the gates. Adri had been lurking around Jadavpur University for a while now, mixing with the crowds to avoid the Guardians’ eyes, even though he knew they wouldn’t make a move unless he crossed the university gate. Of course, there was also the fact that the university was very well protected. MYTH, Adri mused, appeared to value the youth and their education, and Jadavpur University was supposed to be quite good. It offered a huge variety of courses, everything non-magic, of course. MYTH did not encourage the common people to be anywhere near magic, or to have anything to do with it. Adri had never been able to decide whether this was a pity or a good thing, for magic had done a lot of harm as well. And magic was the reason he could not enter through those gates right now.

Guardians were magic hunters, instinctively attracted to magical residue or vibes of any kind, be it emanating from a weapon, an artefact or simply a person who had magic in his blood; they would catch on to it, and in most cases, catch the person as well. Magic had been outlawed, and the Guardians were to make sure it stayed that way. They had a natural shield against magic, making it near impossible to use raw magic to take them down—and as far as physical attacks were concerned, Guardians were trained for years in physical combat and swordplay before they were allowed to serve MYTH. Skilled with their main weapons—the broadsword and shield—they wore a traditional flawless white armour that covered every inch of their bodies, leaving only their faces visible.

Adri knew he gave off a lot of magic, and so did the shooter in his bag. If he crossed those gates, they would be on him like starving wolves. He stayed out of their direct line of sight therefore, watching them carefully. They stood above the university gates, atop the pillars on which the gates were hinged, unmoving, silent like statues, their broadswords pointing downwards, hilts on the underside of their palms. Their eyes, of course, were closed. Bloody magic hunters, sensing everything in the vicinity.