Shadow Pavilion (18 page)

38

“
You see,” the Blue God said, as they walked through the forest, “Agni has always had ambitions. It was why the Lords of All gave him the Hunting Lodge in the first place, to keep him occupied. And so far, this has worked.”

“But now,” Zhu Irzh remarked, “Agni wants—what?”

“Lands,” Krishna said. “Territory. Perhaps he always planned this, to keep quietly to the bounds imposed upon him until the time was right, then make his move.”

“But what does this have to do with me?” Zhu Irzh asked.

“You are engaged to be wed, are you not?”

“Yes, you knew that already, My Lord. To Jhai Tserai.”

The badger thought he had an idea where this was going, but he waited nonetheless. It was neither politic nor polite to interrupt a god, and besides, these were matters of the humanoid world. There was also enough to take note of around him: the plants with their ever-shifting colors, the drift of the wind through the trees. A pleasant place, if foreign.

“Indeed,” Krishna said. “To the lovely Jhai. I met her mother once, you know, when she was young and lovely herself, one of the jewels in the crown of the Keralan court. But she fell in love and ran away, years long now. As for Jhai herself, I have seen her only in dreams.” Here, Krishna gave Zhu Irzh a sidelong glance, which the demon seemed not to notice, or pretended that he did not.

“She's a great girl,” Zhu Irzh said, although the badger did not think that he sounded completely convinced.

“And a rich one, too.”

“She's certainly wealthy, yeah. Given how much Paugeng actually
owns
. I mean, I'm sure it's not so much in your terms, My Lord. Gods have much greater resources than the human world, naturally. But in earthly terms, it's not bad.”

“And in demonic terms?”

“Well, yes, not bad at all. One can be quite impoverished in Hell, you know.”

“But presumably this state does not apply to you? If I may be so impertinent.”

Zhu Irzh laughed. “You can be as impertinent as you like. You're a god, after all. My family was always well off but then my parents got divorced and now my mother is, well, on course for being Empress of Hell. She's marrying one of the Ministers. I suppose you heard about the recent unpleasantness?”

“Yes, I heard. You are a prince of Hell now.”

“I always think of myself as just a seneschal,” Zhu Irzh said, clearly uncomfortable. “I've never had political ambitions—load of hassle and grief, if you ask me.”

“Yet, whether you wish it or no, you are a prince of Hell, marrying a wealthy and powerful woman of demon heritage, on Earth. A woman who, even if she chooses not to make much of it, is Agni's cousin.”

Zhu Irzh was silent. A golden bird, fire-feathered, flew across their path and a single blazing pinion fluttered down, to land at the demon's feet. After a glance from Krishna, Zhu Irzh picked it up; it had become quite hard, the badger noticed, a gilded jewel. “I can't say I'd actually put this into words,” the demon said at last. “Haven't had time. But it had crossed my mind.”

“The question we should ask is not: Why you?” the blue god said. “But: Why now, and what is the aim of it?”

“Well, being a detective,” Zhu Irzh said ruefully, “I'd say either my murder or my kidnapping is the likeliest.”

“And which of these options do you consider to be the most probable?”

The demon gave a wry smile. “You'd make a good police officer, you know
…
Given that I was put in a hunt, I'd have said murder. But the issue of what would happen once I actually died presents problems.”

“Presumably Agni would have some way of trapping your spirit. Couldn't have you simply reappearing in your own Hell. There are ways of doing that, but you have quite a lot of innate power, now, you know. Not because of what you do, or have, but because of what you are. One attains powers, as one's roles change.”

“I've a certain amount of magical ability,” Zhu Irzh said, with a doubtful glance. “Not much more than that, though.”

“That you know of. As I say, your abilities will be changing. But Agni might also have simply been amusing himself prior to your actual murder and any subsequent binding. And kidnapping is indeed an option.”

Zhu Irzh said, “If you think my mother would shell out a ransom payment
…
! The mean old cow would probably pay to leave me there.”

“How did she react, when you told her that you were marrying Jhai? Was she angry?”

“Mum? Gods, no. Actually
Jhai
told her that we were getting married.”

“Without, as I remember,” the badger said, “asking you first.”

The demon gave him an icy stare. “There is
possibly
an element of truth in that.”

The god was good enough not to smile. “So she was not angered?”

“She was delighted! Started planning the floral arrangements within minutes of being told. All right, Jhai's a foreigner. But she's rich. And she lives on Earth. Mother's been looking for ways to expand her power base all her life. She could have given Machiavelli lessons. For all I know, she
did.”

“And there,” Krishna said, standing still and turning to face the demon, “is your key. Your mother approved of Jhai because of what she is. Agni will have had similar thoughts. If he is the one to wed Jhai, he gains access to the human realm, by honor of marriage.”

The badger could see that Zhu Irzh was thinking about this. “So why didn't he ask her before?”

“Maybe he did not think she would wed another. She had girlfriends before you, did she not?”

“She's
…
adventurous, yes.”

“Perhaps Agni did not think that there was anything to be gained by approaching her. And then you appear, a bridegroom-to-be. That must have changed Agni's views.”

“So, say Agni wants to wed Jhai
…
” The demon absently broke off a flower from a cascade of azalea. It gave a small scream. “Sorry! What was I thinking?” He dropped the blossom, which became a butterfly on the way to the ground and fluttered erratically away. “But I'm in the way. So he sends someone to get me, someone who captures the badger as well—we were both in the same place, the badger was effectively bait. He sends me out to be hunted, which is taking a chance that I might escape—but I think Agni's the sort of bloke who likes taking chances.”

“Quite so,” Krishna agreed. “Also, he might consider it sporting.”

“In a warped kind of way
…
I think they underestimated the badger here, too.”

“People,” the badger spat, “think I am sweet.”

“I do not think you are sweet, creature of earth,” the blue god murmured. The badger stared at him with great suspicion, but could discern no hint of irony on Krishna's indigo countenance.

“Anyway, yeah, he's not sweet and he's not just a cuddly animal, either. I don't suppose they thought he'd be able to escape on his own. And if one or more of the harem got hold of me, I'd probably be in a pretty bad way even if I wasn't actually killed. Too debilitated to think about trying to find a way back, certainly.”

“That may well have been the idea. With sport along the way. They would not have done this had they planned a ransom demand, I think, and besides, there would be terrible ramifications if an Indian Prince of Fire kidnapped a Chinese Prince of Hell. You've no idea—sorry, you probably do—just how difficult these political situations can be. Once Vishnu found out, that would be it for Agni: confined to a jar or something, I expect. No one here wants trouble with the Chinese; we keep ourselves to ourselves, for the main part.”

“This is making more sense,” the demon admitted. “So they snatch me, take me down to Hell, make sure the only potential witness is off the scene, and bind me in some manner. No one knows where I've gone. I'm sure Chen—that's my partner—will be thinking in terms of some underworld scenario. With my home Hell, I mean. Who'd think that I'd been snatched by the
Indians?”

“And you would in any case be hidden in the realm of the Hunting Lodge. It's vast, you know; I don't expect you saw more than a fraction of it. But those jungles go on for lands and lands.”

“Then, with me off the scene, Jhai's own cousin, whom she hasn't seen for years, shows up to do his familial duty, comfort the grieving girlfriend. Or the furious girlfriend, more likely. Jhai'd probably think I'd run out on her. What could be more natural than the cousin offering her his protection?”

“And marry her. And gain all those things that such a marriage would bring.”

“What a scheming bastard,” Zhu Irzh breathed, eliciting little gasps of horror from the ladies of the court following behind. “Sorry. I'm really not suited to Heavens, you know.”

Krishna shrugged. “It doesn't matter to me. But not to worry, Zhu Irzh. You have some answers, now. And I will do my best to send you home.”

“You said that when we left the temple,” the demon remarked. “Where
are
we heading, by the way?”

“To the pillar.”

“Ah.” It was clear to the badger that Zhu Irzh did not know what this was, but the blue god had spoken with a serene confidence. He strode ahead, now the color of a summer sky, and flowers sprang in his path to welcome him. Zhu Irzh and the badger followed, with the soft laughter of the court women behind, and no one saw the thick black shape that slid through the trees in their wake.

39

I
nari woke early at the temple. They had stayed the night, for it had been late when their final conversation had wound to a close. It was still dark outside, with that heavy pre-dawn expectancy, and rather than wake Chen, she wrapped herself in a borrowed robe and went into the little kitchen of the temple to make tea.

The simple act of placing the kettle on the stove reminded her painfully of badger. They had rarely been separated, and perhaps never for so long. Although the badger had traveled through Hell and back, possessing a solid, silent reliability, Inari still worried about him: she knew he would have come back if he could, and that he had not done so hinted at dire possibilities. She had not thought, either, that she would have come to worry so much about Zhu Irzh. When she and the demon had first met, his intentions had clearly tended toward the amorous. Inari sighed at the memory, an old exasperation coming to the fore. It would be so much easier to be plain. But she had inherited all the beauty of that long-ago courtesan grandmother, a human snatched down to Hell. Inari knew she resembled this woman, with a demon glamour besides, and look at all the trouble it had led to. But if it had not been for her appearance, perhaps Chen Wei might not have rescued her. Then again, had it not been for her looks, he would not have had to
…

Since those early days, and the arrival of Jhai, Zhu Irzh had treated Inari like a little sister—affection, respect, combined with some teasing—and she was surprised, now, to discover how much this meant to her. Her own brothers had thought of her as no more than a tool to be used where it would benefit the family most, even if this had meant marrying Inari off to a scion of the Ministry of Epidemics.

And Jhai—who had never shown any jealousy of Inari, who had always treated her with courtesy—must be worried sick.

The kettle was boiling. Inari took it from the stove and made a pot of tea, which could be reheated if anyone else woke up and wanted some. The sky was lightening a little, but it was still night, and Inari took her tea into the main hall of the temple, sitting on a small bench to drink it. She took one of the limited selection of sacred texts (“People generally don't bother with those,” Robin had remarked. “I certainly don't.”) from the wall cabinet and read it, or tried to. Such flowery fulsomeness! Praise to the late Emperor cascaded from the page, in a prose so extreme it formed an almost tangible perfume. No wonder Robin didn't bother with this kind of thing. It made a marked contrast to the simple approach taken by Mhara, to the calm serenity of the temple's interior. Looking around, Inari saw that although the big bowl on the altar was filled with prayer slips that people had left, there were no icons, no gilded statues. The braziers glowed, embers only, and there was not even a lighted candle.

So if there was no candle, where was that smoke coming from?

Inari, frowning, went to investigate, still clutching her cup of tea. The thin thread of smoke was twisting its way through the room. It appeared to be coming from the annex, which led, in turn, into the little courtyard that stood just beyond the annex door. Within the courtyard, on a plinth, set a large bowl of sand. And in front of the plinth was a box containing the thick crimson sticks of incense, of varying sizes and prices, that Robin kept topped up for the faithful to light, that their prayers may be carried up to Heaven with the smoke. In fact, this was not strictly necessary, since Mhara heard most things anyway, but it gave people hope and empowerment, Robin had explained, and it was a tradition with which folk connected.

Inari's frown lifted: how stupid of her! Of course, someone must have lit an incense stick, either late last night, or on their way to work this morning. But the smoke was trickling beneath the door—shouldn't it just dissipate outside, to be borne away on the early morning wind?

Inari felt the need to check. Cautiously, she opened the door to the courtyard—and relaxed. There, indeed, was the stick of incense, smoldering in the bowl of sand, its tip still glowing orange against the shadowed wall.

But surely there was too much smoke, from a single incense stick, and it was pooling about the base of the plinth like seafoam—then Inari knew where she had previously felt this chill across her skin, where the terror that now gripped her had last been experienced.

The assassin Seijin, the Lord Lady of Shadow Pavilion, stepped forth from the cloud, congealing and condensing, smiling gently all the while, and before Inari could turn and run, Seijin drew the scimitar in one sweeping, cloud-dispelling curve and struck off her head.