Tantrics Of Old (32 page)

‘We will need to be dead silent. And you will have to carry Maya,’ Adri said.

‘Me?’ Gray exclaimed, still not able to believe where they were headed.

‘Fayne will need both hands free, as will I. We need to take her with us, because we won’t have the time to go in, get the Aujour, come back, and make the brew. I will have to do it in the Hive itself.’

‘A thousand witches,’ Gray mumbled.

Maya was in space. Everything seemed unreal and though she saw things around her she could not believe them. A vortex of swirling visions surrounded her, things which glowed brightly and whispered amidst the darkness, things of different colours. Some protected her, some mocked her. She tried not to look at them, but her eyes would just not shut. Her body refused to listen to her; it was as if she had no control over anything, and was just a spectator. Thoughts morphed into visions, and she re-imagined past happenings and events, with strange, new entities making their way in and out, familiarly. Something lingered on in her memory, something she had read recently—words, which she was now visualising, clear as day. It was a painting. A portrait, an exact replication, painted beautifully, masterfully. Adri, clearly in his late teens, stood looking at it.

His clothes looked worn and used—his face dirty, his hair cut short. His frame suggested he was tired; he looked ready to drop, and yet he stood and gazed at the painting. Maya did not get to measure how long he looked at it; her dreamlike state was confusing her, and time was something she found herself unable to keep track of. However, when Adri did move, it was not soon.

‘She was beautiful,’ Victor said. Adri did not turn as Victor entered the room, dressed in a housecoat over loose pyjamas. Adri continued to look at the portrait. Maya noticed then the bag he had dropped by his side. The bag not only looked just as dusty and tattered as his clothes, but also had the occasional dark stain Maya suspected to be blood.

‘You never got to meet her,’ Victor said slowly, looking at Adri.

‘I know,’ Adri replied.

Victor turned to look at the painting, and there was silence as the woman looked down at them calmly, smiling. Adri turned to Victor. ‘How did she die?’

‘Well,’ Victor replied.

‘You know what I mean,’ Adri was serious and smile-less.

‘We have talked about this before, Adri.’

‘And I have never been satisfied with either your answers, or the one note she left me,’ Adri was talking fast. Maya got the distinct impression that he had been through this before, as though he had the lines ready.

Victor was unaffected. ‘My answers will remain the same.’ He turned and started walking back into the corridors from which he had emerged. ‘Come.’

Adri picked up the bag and followed. So did Maya.

It was the same house that they had been in, once grand. Maya saw that several heavy curtains lined the corridors, and one had to part them as one proceeded. A security measure, of course. Demons got confused by curtains.

Maya got to see the now ruined library in all its glory, for that is where they went. Victor sat down on a chaise-lounge next to a reading desk. A half finished drink and an open book suggested he had been reading. Adri collapsed into a chair opposite his father and leaned back, reaching into his jeans pocket.

‘I loved your mother,’ Victor said. ‘I do not need to say that anymore and I won’t. I’ve told you this before, and we will not go through this again.’

Adri lit a cigarette and took a long, lazy drag. ‘We will go through this again and again, Father,’ he said, ‘until you will answer
all
my questions.’

Silence brewed.

‘You are a Tantric under the employ of MYTH. Currently your status is black and you are answerable to me,’ Victor said, grim. ‘We will now discuss your mission, and nothing else.’

Adri breathed out smoke. ‘All right, then. But I’m not letting this slide, Father.’ There was a twist of the lip in the way he said the last word.

Victor did not react. ‘How many have returned?’ he asked.

‘Just me,’ Adri replied.

‘I will expect detailed reports about all of the rest on my table later.’

‘They were good. They knew their stuff.’

‘Not good enough, apparently. Any of them MIA?’

‘All of them were killed. Bad deaths, but had to happen if we were to bag the
thing
.’

‘Which you did, I presume?’

In reply, Adri unzipped his bag and reached within. Maya saw hair. Adri was grabbing
hair
—and then she winced as Adri withdrew a severed head from the inside. It was a Demon’s head, much larger than a normal human head, black-skinned and black-haired, and much, much more animalistic than humanoid. It was a Feral, Maya realised, and even from where she stood, she could make out the abnormally large fangs. Adri let the head hang and sway; he looked at it without expression, smoking his cigarette.

‘Not bad,’ Victor said, looking at the head with a half smile. ‘You went quite overboard with the evidence though.’

‘This bastard deserved it,’ Adri said.

Maya had been here before. She knew about this. In some time Adri was going to retire to his room and then scribble in his diary, a diary she had already read. Right now, however, she could
see
it all, vivid and detailed. She did not know if it was merely her imagination filling in all the blanks for her or something else at work, but it was something she could get used to. The Demon’s head, for example, she could see the wretched thing for exactly what it was—from the dull red eyes to the leathery skin—and it was not something she had ever seen, for her fat books never had illustrations.

Adri let the head drop onto the carpet. The blood had dried up already—it landed like a heavy piece of wood wrapped in dry paper, and rolled onto one side. Victor looked down at the carpet, at the brink of what could be called objection, but did not say anything. Adri smoked lazily, but it was evident that Victor could see what he was—a string stretched taut. All Adri needed, or seemed to need, was an excuse.

‘You’ve come from a long way off,’ Victor said. ‘Get some rest. We’ll discuss the mission later.’

‘I’m fine with now, in case that’s what you mean.’

‘No. Later,’ Victor said.

Adri looked at his father expressionlessly for a moment before he got up. The conversation was over. Ignoring the severed head, he grabbed his bag and trudged off into the corridor and upstairs, parting curtains with his face. Maya decided to follow him. Her last glance at Victor found him grim, staring at the Demon’s head with dark, serious eyes. Adri entered his room and shut the door behind him; Maya realised she was merely a link to his memory and not in some time machine as she passed through the solid door. Adri stubbed the cigarette out in an ashtray and smoothly lit another one, pausing briefly before a drawer. His hand halfway to the drawer, he stopped, and then with a tired and resigned yawn, he entered an open bathroom, and turned on the shower. Then he started to unbutton.

Adri looked at the structure through eyes that remembered. A place of death, a maze to beat all mazes, a lair hiding a dangerous kind of predator. He lit a cigarette and looked at the Hive silently. It was dark, but fires burned occasionally, throwing certain parts of the building into light. He saw silhouettes crawling about for mere seconds before they would disappear. There was an eerie sense of quiet in and around the Hive, and even beyond the demolished wall behind which they crouched, they could feel it. Nothing really moved much; even the night winds chose to stay still.

‘Why would you want Maya and me to enter that thing?’ Gray whispered urgently.

‘You will die a grisly death if you stay here,’ Fayne replied.

‘Quiet,’ Adri whispered.

Witches. I see them
. Mazumder spoke.

Adri smoked silently, taking cover behind the wall every time its burning end flared in the night.

‘They will smell your cigarette, Tantric,’ Fayne said.

He was right. Adri was so used to smoking to just reduce his stress, if not to continually maintain the natural armour that the flames were, that he hadn’t thought about this. He stubbed out the cigarette without showing any apparent hurry. Then he checked his revolvers in the dim light of a faraway fire—all ten chambers held mercury rounds. Witches. How he hated them.

One of them is heading this way
, the Wraith cursed softly.

‘One coming this way,’ Fayne said. Adri saw that he was already holding a couple of his red daggers ready. Where did they all come from anyway? Gray was supporting Maya’s limp body, as their agreement had been. They ducked deeper and slumped behind the wall, resting their backs on the approaching witch. She made no noise as she came closer.

‘You have the mark,’ Fayne said.

Adri nodded.

‘Then she will have already smelt you. She knows who you are,’ he continued. ‘We cannot allow her to alert more Dynes.’

Adri nodded again.

This was the moment she chose to leap above them. In a perfect aerial one-eighty degree turn, she landed on all fours, facing them. They barely got seconds to look at the withered but powerful figure, the flying, dirty hair and the burning eyes, before she sprung. The intended target was Gray, but a mercury round caught her in mid-air, as Adri’s gun erupted in white smoke. The witch screeched as she hit the dirt. Within a moment, Fayne had slit her throat, cutting her shriek in half. He got up from the corpse and looked around quickly.

‘Lucky,’ he said.

No one said anything as the group moved slowly towards the Hive, checking the area for witches. Gray took a last glance at the unmoving Dyne.
There had been no possible choice
, he told himself.

In the semi-darkness there was no way to distinguish one fallen building from another—it all seemed like one solid structure designed by some drunk architect. Fayne, as always, could see just as well in the darkness as the average werecat—he led the way. They moved towards a small window, partially buried beneath rubble. Fayne kicked it in and cleared the glass away effortlessly, and through it, they entered the Hive.

Darkness became black. The silence bothered Gray even more than the darkness. With everything dark and quiet, their breathing seemed loudest; Gray himself was practically panting from Maya’s weight.

‘You cannot see,’ Fayne said softly. ‘We cannot risk fire here. You must follow me to the best of your ability.’

Adri did not argue and stamped out Gray’s squeaks of protest. What followed was not something to be remembered fondly—Fayne led in complete darkness, Gray carrying Maya in the middle, and Adri bringing up the rear, guiding Gray the best he could based on the Wraith’s whispered directions. Nothing was smooth though—Gray and Adri bumped into pillars and walls, tripped and stumbled and tried to mask their cries of pain the best they could, for every word they spoke would echo in the darkness for minutes altogether. They moved through flats and garages, down horizontal lift shafts, through destroyed art galleries and dry swimming pools, all fused together underground in an unnerving swirl. Gray could not carry Maya for the entire way, and Adri took over whenever Gray could not take it anymore. They heard nothing, except for the scurrying of rats in the darkness around them. Surprisingly enough, they did not run into any more witches even though Fayne was leading them into the very Heart of the Hive.

All I have to do is give you spirit vision and you will be able to see everything
.

The Wraith did keep talking throughout their journey. It told Adri how he should have come clean about its presence, and how its capabilities were being wasted. It also kept telling Adri about its past; the complete silence in the Hive did not let Adri shut him up and the Wraith took full advantage of that.