Ash Mistry and the Savage Fortress (12 page)

onour Kali,” said Ujba as the boys gathered in the basement training hall every morning. Ash looked towards the black, gruesome statue in the corner. He never took his eyes off her as he completed the ritual, an elaborate series of high kicks, low lunges, strikes and jumps. Did it please the goddess how much sharper his moves were now than at the beginning of his time at the Lalgur? How much leaner he was? The endless training and the basic diet meant the excess blubber was being sweated out, changing Ash both physically and mentally. His head was clearer, reactions faster, limbs quicker, and there was hard muscle forming under his dark skin. To lose weight he just needed to diet and exercise. Who knew?

Three weeks they’d been here now, the routine unchanged. And still imprisoned in the Lalgur.

No news from Rishi. Was he even alive? Ash could do nothing but wait, and fight.

Ash came down just before dawn for another breakfast of cold lentils and rice. The kids descended on the large steel pots, using elbows, knees and hair-pulling to be first at the food with their bowls.

Ujba was nowhere to be seen. The only adult was an old woman who did the cooking. She squatted over a small fire, rolling the dough out into thin, flat discs before flipping them on to her pan. After a few seconds the dough would inflate into a chapatti and off it would go, on to the pile with the others.

John scurried in and out of the kitchen carrying an iron teapot. There were only a handful of glasses, so they were passed around from one mouth to the next.

Ash dug out two bowlfuls of rice, added a big scoop of lentils to each and wandered off into a corner, handing one to Lucky.

“You OK?” he asked.

Lucky nodded, but Ash could see the fight was dying in
her. She studied with the physicians, but her eyes were tired, empty. He put his arm round her.

“We’ll get home, Lucks, you’ll see.”

“OK, Ash.” She didn’t sound like she believed him.

John nudged Ash. “Looks who’s coming,” he said before retreating into a group of the other kids.

Parvati gestured to the vacant floor space beside Ash. “May I?”

“All yours.”

Ash squashed the mixture of rice and lentils into a rough ball and popped it into his mouth. One of the other kids, hands trembling, offered a full bowl to Parvati, but she brushed it away.

“Not hungry?” Ash asked.

Parvati smiled and put her finger to her lips.

Ash listened. There: a noise. A scratching.

Parvati’s hand blurred and there was a surprised squeak. She pulled a struggling rat from a crack in the wall. The brown rodent thrashed in her grasp and she tightened her fingers. Shivering in terror, it twisted frantically as she dangled it from its tail. She held it above her head.

“Oh no you’re not…” said Ash.

“Oh yes I am,” said Parvati as she opened her mouth.

The rat stared into her eyes. It seemed paralysed. But as its head disappeared into her mouth, it scrabbled with its tiny clawed feet, its tail whipping wildly. Parvati’s throat bulged, the skin thinning as it stretched to accommodate the animal. The tail flicked back and forth before it too vanished through her lips like a string of spaghetti.

“That was truly disgusting,” said Ash.

Lucky stood up. She looked green. “Excuse me,” she said. “I’m just going over there to puke.”

A shiver suddenly ran along Ash, as though someone had pressed ice against his spine, but it was over the moment it had begun.

“How are you feeling?” asked Parvati.

“Fine. How was your meal?”

“Delicious. Varanasi rats are the best. Free range, you see.”

“I’ll remember that next time I’m at Tesco.”

Parvati stood up and stretched, almost bending double, backwards. She clicked her neck joints, turning her head side to side. “I’ve a few errands to run. I’ll see you later.”

Ash watched her step over the crouching children and make her way out. He looked at his half-empty bowl, his appetite completely gone.

Hakim sat leaning up against a column, eyes on Ash. He didn’t need to fight over food; a couple of the kids acted as his servants and brought it to him. Hakim held out a glass and John poured tea.

John followed Hakim’s gaze and looked at Ash as well.

Suddenly Hakim swore as the scalding hot tea splashed over his hand. He leapt up and swung his fist straight into John’s face. The boy fell with a cry.

“That is out of order,” Ash snarled. Hakim kicked John in the guts, again and again. All John could do was curl up as blows rained down.

Ash was across the floor before he knew it. Hakim spun round just as Ash reached him.

“It was an accident,” said Ash.

Hakim’s eyes narrowed. “Servants must be beaten or they don’t learn.”

Ignoring him, Ash hooked his arm through John’s. “Come on, get up.”

Hakim shoved Ash against the wall, fists clenched. “It looks like you need to be taught a lesson too,” he growled.

“Is that a threat?” Ash laughed. “You’ll need a better line than that. Seriously, it’s like you’ve been watching way too many bad gangster movies.”

“I’ll break every tooth in your face, fat boy.” Hakim raised his fist.

Fat boy?
Yeah, back in the day, but not now. Ash lacked Hakim’s lean, hard edges, but he was more muscle than flab. And he was sick of being pushed around.

“I’m way past caring.”

Hakim’s fist shot forward and Ash moved – not consciously – but on pure reflex. Hakim cried out as his knuckles cracked hard into the stone wall. His eyes widened in shock, surprise and anger.

How did that happen?

Ash brought his knee up and blocked Hakim’s kick with time to spare. He ducked as Hakim swung again. It was as if he could predict every move and knew what was—

Snake-strike next.

Hakim’s fingers, locked and rigid, jabbed at his throat. Ash trapped his opponent’s hand in his own and twisted sharply.

Hakim’s wrist snapped.

Hakim screamed. He glared at Ash, then, cradling his broken wrist, he stumbled away.

As soon as he had gone, John came over to Ash, nursing his bleeding lip. “That was amazing. How did you do
that?” All around Ash the kids stared at him in silent disbelief.

“Honestly? I have no idea.” Ash caught a small movement above. Looking up he saw Ujba leaning over the highest balcony, watching him. How long had he been up there? What had he seen?

“I cannot believe it,” said John.

Ash looked at his friend. “Me neither.” There was no way he should have done that, not against Hakim.

What was happening?

sh noticed how the other boys watched him as he came down into the training hall that evening. Everyone in the Lalgur was talking about the fight, and for the first time Hakim wasn’t there. If it bothered Ujba, he didn’t show it. It was business as normal.

And after five minutes Ash was sweating, bruised and lying in the dust.

It didn’t make any sense. He’d beaten Hakim, been able to predict his actions and react like lightning, and yet now? Now he was back to normal, somewhere between completely hopeless and a bit pathetic.

What was his malfunction?

After an hour of blood, sweat and tears, mainly his, Ash dropped down in a corner, trying to catch his breath.

John handed him a cup of water. “What’s wrong? One minute you’re fighting like Spartacus and the next more like Father Christmas.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Hey,” John said. “I’ve got something that’ll cheer you up.”

“Later. Can’t you see I’m feeling sorry for myself?” Wow, how could he ache so badly? Even his hair ached.

A sigh. “All right. I’ll put the mobile right back then.”

Ash’s eyes snapped open. “This better not be a joke.”

John tilted his head towards the door. “In my room.”

A mobile. In an instant all Ash’s weariness vanished. He wanted to run and grab the phone, but he forced himself to sit still. Ujba was sitting opposite and the guy missed nothing.

Breathe slow and steady. Be calm down. Be cool.

John tapped the edge of the water bucket and stood up. He glanced towards Ujba. “Master, the bucket needs filling.”

Ujba barely acknowledged him.

“Come and help me,” John said to Ash.

Ash nodded and got up. John walked to the door and put his foot on the step.

“Stop,” said Ujba.

He can hear my heart beating. The whole class must be able to hear it.

Ash kept going.

“Did you hear me, boy?”

Ash’s legs trembled. Every instinct warned him to run to John’s room and call Dad. He just wanted to speak to him, hear his voice. Tell him that he and Lucky were here, tell him to come and get them. It would take just one minute.

He turned on his heels and looked at Ujba.

Ujba tossed him a clay jug.

Ash barely caught it. A couple of the kids laughed.

“Make sure it’s cold. Get some ice from the kitchen,” said Ujba. Then he shifted his attention back to the fighting.

“Come on, Ash,” urged John.

Minutes later they were in John’s small room. Ash closed the door while John prised a brick out of the wall. He drew out an object wrapped in plastic and handed it over.

“I stole it a few hours ago.”

“I thought Ujba collected all the takings as soon as you came in.” Ujba or Hakim personally checked all the kids to make sure no one was hanging on to anything they shouldn’t. That especially included things like mobiles.

“Ujba was still patching up Hakim’s broken wrist when I came back.” He switched it on. “It’s still got a few credits on it. Enough for a call to England.”

Ash cradled the mobile in both hands as if it was the most precious thing he’d ever owned. He wiped his hands on the bed sheet before dialling, not able to trust his slippery fingers to get the numbers right.

It rang and rang.

Please, please pick up.

Voices called from outside, demanding to know who’d left the water bucket on the stairs.

It kept ringing.

Click.

“Hello?”

A woman’s voice, worn and tired, a little bit scared too. His mum. He’d imagined this so many thousands of times over the last few weeks and now, actually hearing her, it was as though his voice had been stolen. His mum.

“Hello?” she said again.

Fists pounded the door. “Oi, Johnny! This is your jug!”

It was going to be OK. At last, it was going to be OK.

“Fine!” Someone whacked the jug against the wooden door. “If it gets broken it’s your fault.”

“Just get lost!” shouted John.

“Mum,” said Ash. He bit down on his lip to stop it from quivering. “It’s me.”

His mum sobbed. “Thank God. Thank God. We’ve waited so long. But we knew, we
knew
you were alive.”

“Lucks is fine, we’re both fine.” Tears filled his eyes. “I’m here in Varanasi.”

“So’s your dad. He’s been looking for you everywhere. That Englishman, Savage, he’s been helping.”

Of course. Savage would have known Ash would contact his parents sooner or later.

“Listen, Mum, you need to speak with Dad, but not tell Savage anything. Do you understand?”

“What’s going on, Ash? You sound so different.”

“A lot’s happened, Mum.”

“Where are you? I’ll call Dad right now and tell him to come and get you.”

John slapped his hand over the mobile. “Not here. Not here. Meet him somewhere else.”

Ash blinked, but understood. Ujba wouldn’t take kindly to some stranger turning up, demanding to be let in and take them from him – and Ujba was dangerous.

“We need to meet,” said Ash. “We’ll come to Dad.”

“The Good View Hotel, know it?”

Ash glanced at John, who shook his head. “Half the hotels on the river front are called ‘The Good View’. Ask her for the nearest ghat.”

“Which ghat, Mum? We’ll meet him there.”

“The Manikarnika ghat,” she said.

“We’ll be there at two in the morning,” Ash promised. That would be late enough to make sure everyone else in the Lalgur was asleep.

“I love you, Ash. Tell Lucky I miss her so much. Be quick, my darling. Be quick and we’ll have you home tomorrow.”

“I love you, Mum.” He switched off the mobile and threw it to John to hide back behind the brick.

Ash wiped his eyes; he had to act totally normal. But his mum! He’d spoken to his mum! He could picture her so clearly. With her voice still clear in his head, Ash realised how much he’d missed her and Dad. Now that he’d spoken to her, he had to get back. Nothing else mattered. Tomorrow they’d be on their way home. He couldn’t help grinning: They were going home! He opened the door.

And found Parvati waiting outside.

“What’s with the stupid smile?” Parvati looked around
the room, an eyebrow raised. “What are you both doing in here, anyway?”

John looked at Ash. Ash looked at John. Both blushed. Here was a beautiful girl and they were both still in their underpants.

Parvati sighed. “Never mind. What you two boys get up to in private is your own business. But save it till later.”

Ash gasped. “It’s nothing like that!”

Parvati smiled. “No, of course not.”

John stood there speechless until she’d gone. Then he grabbed the jug and swung it at Ash. “Well, we certainly fooled her, didn’t we?”

“Thanks, John. I owe you big time.”

“So? Where are you going to meet your dad?”

“Manikarnika ghat. You know it?”

John stared at him. “Of course.” He didn’t look happy. “It’s the main ghat. It’s where you go to burn.”

That night, Ash walked up the steps to the roof. He couldn’t disguise his excitement. Their dad was here. Just wait till he told Lucky, she’d go insane with happiness. They were going home. The nightmare was almost over.

“You’re looking very pleased with yourself.”

Parvati slinked out of the darkness. Her skin seemed to glisten with a greenish hue under the weak lamplight.

Ash said nothing, only watched her. How could he not?

“You’re up to something, aren’t you? Now what might that be?” Parvati’s vertical irises dilated. Her bright eyes almost filled the gloomy staircase with an emerald light. Her voice, barely above a whisper, dipped into his mind.

“
Tell me.
”

He wanted to. So badly. He wanted to explain the mobile, the phone call and how Dad was waiting at the ghat. Those green eyes grew larger and larger until they were all he could see.

“I…” Sweat broke out across Ash’s forehead. He wanted to tell her, but a small part of him fought back. His head wouldn’t move. He couldn’t even blink.

“Tell me, Ashoka.”

His aunt used to call him Ashoka; she was old-fashioned that way. No one else had the right to call him Ashoka – only her. Sadness, loss and anger burnt in his chest, freeing him suddenly, and Ash snarled, “I’ve nothing to say.”

Instantly the green light died. Suddenly Parvati was just a girl, standing on the steps. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Ash let out a deep breath and rubbed his temples to clear the confusion that hung like a cloud in his head. “What was that? Magic?”

“Hardly. It’s just what I can do. Sometimes.”

Ash sank down and rested against the wall. Parvati sat down too a few steps above. She idly fiddled with the silver locket.

“What is that?” asked Ash. She was always playing with it. “Something important?”

Parvati’s eyes narrowed, then she slowly lifted it over her head and handed it to him. “It’s best that you know.”

The locket was old, that was for sure, and it must have had gems studded into it once, as there was a series of small holes and catches in the surface. The chain was thin and delicate, almost as fine as silken thread. Someone had put a lot of effort into making this.

Ash nudged the locket open. He met the gaze of two people, portraits no more than three or four centimetres high. The left-hand portrait had been scratched out so all that could be seen was a blur of blue and yellow paint, tinged green where the colours had merged. The right-hand portrait was of a young Indian woman in her early twenties. She wore a silken scarf and leaned her head on a bejewelled hand. A
diamond stud shone on the side of her nostril as she gazed languidly at him with her big green eyes.

“That’s you,” said Ash. But there was ten years’ difference between the girl in front of him and the one in the portrait. “How is that possible?”

Parvati took the locket back and clicked it shut. “I am half human, Ash. I age just like you.”

“But she’s older than you are now. You age backwards?”

“No, I age like any human until I’m an old woman. When I die, I’m instantly reborn.” She sounded weary, even sad. “Like all rakshasas.”

“It doesn’t sound so bad.” What would he give to be able to do that? What any mortal would give, to live for ever.

“When you’ve done it as long as I have, you will realise it’s a curse.” She sighed. “Even death is no escape.”

“Why not?”

“I think I’m human, at least to begin with. Then my rakshasa soul manifests itself in my early teens, and with it come the nightmares and my old memories. The first sign is these.” She pointed at her eyes. “They change from human to serpent. I have to leave my home because I become a danger to those I love. I am a monster, Ash. A monster living among humans.”

Ash watched her silently. So that was her life, to be feared and shunned by all she knew, for ever. Parvati slipped the locket back over her neck.

“And who was the other portrait?”

“Savage.”

“What?” How could it be Savage? Ash shot forward, unable to disguise or control his rage. “You knew Savage?” He felt totally betrayed. Of all the people to carry in her locket, Savage!

“It was a long time ago, Ash.”

“And how well did you know him, exactly?”

Parvati responded with icy coldness. “I don’t see how that’s any business of yours.”

“You’ve got his portrait in your locket,” said Ash, still hot with rage. “That’s usually reserved for ‘extra special friends’, isn’t it?”

“Listen to me, Ash.” Parvati took his hand. “Listen to me.”

It took a few minutes for Ash to calm down, but eventually he sat down and leaned against the wall. Still, all he could think of was the portrait in the locket.

“I hate Savage more than you could possibly imagine,” Parvati said, sitting down next to Ash. “We have the same
enemy, you and I. And I promise you this – I will do everything I can to help you avenge yourself against him.”

That was the truth. He could hear the cold, ancient hate in her tone.

“What happened?”

“I was in the court of the maharajah of Lahore, back in the mid-nineteenth century. I helped keep his rivals in line.”

“How?”

“I am the daughter of Ravana. I was born to end men’s lives.” Parvati frowned. “I served the maharajah as his assassin, Ash.”

An assassin. How insanely cool. “So how did you meet Savage?”

“Savage was part of a diplomatic mission sent by the English to make a peace deal with the maharajah.”

“Did they?”

“The treaty was signed, but I was sent to spy on them. I discovered Savage was a magician, a good one. Nothing big, and nothing a thousand sadhus couldn’t do. But he interested me. And he made me an offer.”

“What?”

“To make me wholly human.”

Ash nodded. The way she spoke about her past life, her
hatred for her father and sadness towards what had happened to her mother, it was clear Parvati was conflicted; the demon versus the human. He wondered what she was capable of if she gave in to her demon side. As she had said: she was Ravana’s daughter, and Ravana had terrorised the gods.

Parvati continued. “But he needed my father’s scrolls of magic, scrolls I’d salvaged from the destruction of Lanka. Savage wanted to master the ten sorceries, like my father. He said he’d use them to cure me.” Parvati’s eyes darkened and there was a grimness there. “And like a trusting fool I gave them to him. But the scrolls were incomplete, so he only acquired a few simple magics, like immortality.”