Giacomo climbed down from the howdah and gazed into the caldera. It looked as if a giant hole had been dug in the earth. Off to his left, he noticed the tattered remains of a few tents and some scattered supplies, half buried in ash. “Maybe we should set up camp and head in at first light?” Giacomo suggested.
“No, we’re going in now,” Ajeet insisted.
“Vrama may have already sensed our arrival,” Yaday said. “The longer we wait out here, the more vulnerable your Geniuses will be.”
Giacomo glanced at Mico and his friends’ Geniuses, realizing that once Vrama saw them, he might use the Straightedge to drain their power too. I’m not going to give him that chance.
Ozo scanned the caldera. “I don’t see any passageways. What’s our best path in?”
Samraat Ajeet hollered an order at his warriors and they all dismounted. Yaday informed Giacomo and his friends that they should all wait while Lavanthi and the others scouted for an entry point.
Before they could leave, Savino stepped forward. “That will take too long. Give Giacomo the Compass. He’ll find us a way in.”
Giacomo caught on to Savino’s plan. “That’s right, I was able to use the Compass to home in on the Straightedge. It’ll be the quickest way to find Vrama.”
Ajeet looked to Yaday, and the two men conferred privately. Whatever Yaday said must have been convincing, because the samraat took the Compass off his back and held it out to Giacomo.
Giacomo grabbed it, but Ajeet’s grip held firm. “I’m giving this to you because I trust you. Do not make me regret this decision.”
“I won’t,” Giacomo said. Ajeet released the Compass, and Giacomo ran his hand over its smooth handle, relieved to have it in his possession again.
With the Compass pointed in front of him, Giacomo immediately sensed a faint thrumming from somewhere deep in the earth. Mico gave a wary trill, and Giacomo descended a narrow path that hugged the caldera’s inner wall. The group’s footfalls crunched behind him.
Halfway down the slope, the Compass vibrated and jerked left, pointing at a crevice hidden behind a jutting stone.
“I think I found our way in,” Giacomo called out. “But it’s going to be a tight squeeze.”
Ajeet peered into the slit of darkness, his katar at the ready. “We’ll manage.”
With Mico lighting the way, Giacomo entered first, followed by Yaday. Milena, Savino, and Aaminah were spread out among the warriors, with instructions from Ajeet to project sacred geometry supports should the walls start caving in.
The rocks pressed close. Giacomo’s heartbeat quickened. He checked behind him, where the sliver of daylight grew smaller and smaller until it vanished altogether. They advanced steadily, boring deeper into the earth. A sharp odor stung Giacomo’s nostrils, and he covered his nose. “Ugh. What’s that smell?”
Yaday coughed. “The gases from the magma.”
The crevice broadened into a long tunnel that eventually emptied into a wide underground chamber, and Giacomo’s nerves calmed a bit. The group spread out, and the bird-Geniuses illuminated the space, adding their casts of blue, green, and yellow to Mico’s red beam. Several more passageways became visible along one side of the cavern wall. Along the other, a deep fissure cut into the earth. Standing near its edge, Giacomo could see a river of glowing magma bubbling far below. A wave of stinking, scalding air slapped Giacomo, and he stepped back.
Ajeet turned to Giacomo. “Which way now?”
Giacomo steadied his breathing and focused again on the Compass. It tugged his arms, more forcefully this time, and dragged him toward one of the middle tunnels.
Giacomo heard the others fall into line behind him, but then they all stopped short. Out of the tunnel’s blackness stepped the ghostly form of a man with sallow skin, a scraggly white beard, and tattered robes. His neck was extremely thin, his stomach distended. He held a katar in one hand, its blade jagged and worn as if it had seen many battles.
“Vrama…?” Giacomo said, his heart pounding.
“No,” Ajeet said, stepping to Giacomo’s side. “That’s … That’s Samraat Jagesh.”
In Giacomo’s growing panic, it took a moment for the name to sink in. “Your father…?”
Out of the black stone walls, six more wraithlike figures emerged, all with the same pale yellow skin, impossibly thin neck, and swollen belly. They wore remnants of armor and carried broken daggers.
Lavanthi moved toward one of the men. “Mahesh?”
Ozo grabbed her arm to pull her back, but she broke away, muttering something in Rachanan. Ozo’s face filled with shock, and he looked at Giacomo. “She says that thing is … was … her husband.”
A final Preta emerged, and despite his grim appearance, Giacomo connected his face to the portrait of the man he’d seen in Yaday’s chambers—Guru Pankaj. Yaday’s eyes widened, and his jaw went slack. To Giacomo’s ears, it sounded like Yaday asked his teacher a question, but there wasn’t time for a translation.
Guru Pankaj didn’t reply, at least not with anything that sounded like words. Instead, he and the other Pretas emitted droning groans as they closed in.
“Steady…” Ajeet said, backing away. The group followed his lead.
Aaminah’s hand latched onto Giacomo’s arm. “I can feel their suffering … They’re in so much pain.”
“I know…” Giacomo replied. “Try to stay calm. Pretas feed off your fears.”
The Pretas converged on the living, forcing them closer to the fissure and the long drop to the river of magma. With conflicted looks, the Rachanans stared at what remained of their friends and family.
“What are you all waiting for?” Savino shouted. He gestured at the warriors. “Shouldn’t we attack them?”
“No!” Ajeet snapped. “I don’t believe they mean to harm us.” Giacomo sensed the tenderness in Ajeet’s heart battling the terror in his eyes. It was precisely how Giacomo would have felt had his parents’ ghosts suddenly appeared.
“Fighting will only anger them more,” Yaday cautioned.
“Then how do we get rid of them?” Milena said, her voice rising.
Growing frantic, Giacomo tried to figure out a way he could help, but Yaday had prepared him to deal with only one Preta, not a whole group.
With a long, rattly exhale, Samraat Jagesh uttered a command and pointed his shaky hand at the tunnel they had come through. Giacomo didn’t need anyone to translate—the Pretas wanted them gone.
“Giacomo, maybe you should make a portal out of here,” Aaminah suggested.
“Not without the Straightedge,” Giacomo said.
“And not without vanquishing Vrama,” Ajeet added. “My father just said that as long as Vrama haunts the caldera, they can never be at peace.”
Yaday looked to Aaminah, desperation on his face. “Can you play something for them?”
With a troubled look in her eyes, Aaminah plucked out a sorrowful tune on her tambur as Luna washed the cavern in waves of yellow light. Yaday joined her with his drum, chanting in Rachanan. The Pretas slowed their advance, as if the air had suddenly become thick. Yaday looked relieved.
But the music’s effect was only temporary. The Pretas pushed through Luna’s light and continued their advance.
“May the gods help us all…” Ajeet said gravely, and raised his katar.
Jagesh lifted his dagger in reply.
“Giacomo, make a portal to the surface,” Ajeet commanded. “Before it’s too late!”
“But we’re so close—”
“Do it!” the samraat roared.
Giacomo snapped open the Compass, and the Pretas charged. The Rachanan warriors surged past Giacomo, their blades colliding with the phantoms’ weapons in a shower of sparks. Giacomo fumbled with the Compass and tried to envision the caldera’s outer surface, but the sounds of battle kept pulling his attention back underground.
Ozo and Lavanthi’s husband traded blows. The Preta knocked Ozo onto his back and was moments away from ending the mercenary’s l
ife when Lavanthi jumped between them and slashed her katar. Mahesh let out an ear-piercing screech and blew away like sand in a windstorm.
Lavanthi had barely helped Ozo to his feet when Mahesh reappeared, clawing his way out of the wall, writhing and hissing.
Aaminah continued to play, slowing down a few of the Pretas while Milena and Savino huddled around her and sent off streaks of light from their Geniuses. But every time someone eliminated a Preta, with either a blade or a burst of light, he would materialize in another part of the cavern and resume his attack.
Giacomo looked away from the fight and shut his eyes, dampening the clatter. Finally, he glimpsed a shimmering image of the outside world and started to spin the Compass, but something stopped him.
His eyes snapped open to find one of the Pretas grabbing the Compass’s legs. The Preta ripped the Tool from Giacomo’s grip and flung it toward the edge of the drop-off. Giacomo tried to dive after it, but the Preta’s bony arm wrapped around his throat. Giacomo thrust his head back and slammed it into the Preta’s chin, to no effect. Choking, Giacomo fished for his pencil. He pulled it from his pocket and swiped. Mico’s gem lit up and fired off a swirl of red, knocking the Preta away.
Mico screeched a warning, and Giacomo looked to his right, where another Preta was closing in. Giacomo stumbled away from him, toward the wall of tunnels.
There’s still one way to save everyone, Giacomo thought.
He frantically jabbed his pencil, and Mico sent out a barrage of light that kept the Pretas momentarily at bay. Giacomo’s gaze swept the cavern, searching for assistance, but Yaday was busy grappling with Guru Pankaj, and his friends were similarly occupied. Giacomo knew that if he didn’t make a go at getting the Straightedge now, he might not have another chance. He realized he’d have to trust that one of them would be able to get the Compass back for him.
He bolted down the tunnel that had been calling to him earlier. Two Pretas gave chase, but something about this tunnel prevented them from going farther, and they vanished into the walls. A moment later, there was a deep rumbling. Giacomo looked back as the passageway collapsed and the fallen rocks cut him off from the group.
With Mico lighting the way, Giacomo steeled himself and forged on. Before long, the passageway became unbearably hot and stuffy. Giacomo soon discovered why—rivulets of lava trickled down the rocky walls.
I’ve been here before, Giacomo realized. He slowed his pace and took a few deep breaths in anticipation of facing Vrama.
Mico’s beam glinted off something shiny up ahead. Giacomo made straight for it.
Like in his vision, the tunnel opened up into a triangular-shaped cavern that resembled the inside of a pyramid. Or a tetrahedron, Giacomo realized. He recognized the sharp black rocks jutting from the floor and ceiling.
In a shadowy corner, Giacomo made out the L shape of the Straightedge. But it appeared to be moving. Vrama’s skeletal form emerged from the dark, clutching the Sacred Tool in his right hand.
Giacomo’s fear flared up. With a few calming breaths, he tamped it down before it could spread.
Vrama inched closer and studied Giacomo for a long, tense moment. The Preta tilted his head, and his bulging eyes sparked with recognition. Vrama whispered something in a raspy voice, but without Yaday to translate, Giacomo couldn’t figure out what he was saying.
“I … I don’t speak your language,” Giacomo said.
Vrama lowered his head and closed his eyes, as if he were praying. A circle in the center of his chest lit up with an emerald glow.
Giacomo couldn’t believe what he was seeing. It looked like a piece of glass had been partially absorbed into Vrama’s skin. Then it hit him—the green light wasn’t coming from glass. It was coming from a Genius’s gem!
When Vrama spoke again, Giacomo was astounded to discover he could understand the Preta.
“I recognize you … You’re the boy who appeared to me once before. But you vanished before I could strike you down. This time, you won’t get away!” Vrama raised the Straightedge and came at Giacomo. Mico erupted with a frightened trill.
“No! Wait!” Giacomo shouted. “I’m a Tulpa!”
The Preta stopped and lowered his weapon. “I sensed there was something different about you. You’re so young and innocent, the perfect vessel to house my tortured soul.”
“You must be tired of endlessly suffering, trapped in this cave,” Giacomo said, letting his heartbeat settle. “If you promise to return power to all the horse-Geniuses, I’ll set you free.” As Yaday had predicted, Vrama was tempted by the offering.
“Agreed,” the Preta hissed, and stepped toward Giacomo.
Giacomo had no intention of letting Vrama’s soul inside him, but the Preta didn’t need to know that. He gripped his pencil tightly and waited for Vrama to get closer. All Giacomo had to do was land one clean strike and knock the Straightedge out of his bony hands.
Vrama came to a stop in front of Giacomo. “When this is all over, you won’t remember a thing.” A menacing smile stretched across his face … and kept going. His mouth widened and his jaw unhinged, like a snake about to devour its prey. An inky-black strand wound its way out of Vrama’s narrow throat.
Giacomo’s breath caught, his eyes fixed on the sinewy darkness twisting toward him.
Is that … Vrama’s soul…?
Mico squawked, snapping Giacomo out of his trance.
He swiped his pencil, and a red blaze lit up the cavern. Vrama went flying toward one corner, the Straightedge to another.
Before Giacomo could reach his prize, Vrama sucked up his soul like it was a long black noodle, then was on him, clawing and biting at Giacomo’s flesh. He dragged Giacomo away from the Straightedge and hurled him against the rocks.
As Giacomo lay sprawled on the cave floor gasping for air, he regretted his decision to face Vrama alone.
Vrama stalked toward him, the Straightedge back in his possession. He raised it like a scythe, and the web of patterns across its surface lit up. Vrama brought the glimmering weapon down fast, and Giacomo rolled, lashing out with his pencil.
Mico fired off strands of light, but Vrama cut through the attack. The next time he swung the Straightedge, Mico’s gem was extinguished. Giacomo jabbed his pencil again in a panic, but Mico’s gem stayed dark and powerless. Mico flew back and forth, chirping frantically, then plummeted to the cave floor. The hummingbird lay still.
When Vrama sapped Mico’s power, Giacomo felt as if all his strength, all his hope, drained away too. What remained was his fear, which crashed through him in a wave.
Vrama loomed over him, the Straightedge’s glow casting a shadow onto his shriveled face. His jaw hinged open again, and the same oily tendril slithered out.
Giacomo crawled backward until he met the wall and couldn’t go any farther. The tendril slipped closer. Giacomo turned his head away, but the blackness twined around his neck, forcing its way into his mouth.
An iciness raked down Giacomo’s throat. He tried to scream and found his voice had been taken from him. For a moment, an inky cord hung between Preta and Tulpa like a tether, then Vrama’s soul wound the rest of the way into Giacomo. He felt it spiraling deeper inside his body, coiling around his lungs and heart, laying claim to him.
First the gem embedded in Vrama’s chest dimmed, and then his body faded away completely. The Straightedge dropped into the dirt.
Giacomo tried to inhale … and no breath came.
He attempted to still his mind … but it swarmed with fear.
He tried to reach for the Straightedge … yet his arms were paralyzed.
And as his vision turned blurry and dark at the edges … his mind began slipping away.
Giacomo cast his thoughts back to his old home. He ran up the stairway, calling out to his five-year-old self, assuring him everything would be all right and that together, they could stop Vrama from taking control. He burst through the door, but instead of connecting to his own past, Giacomo was plunged into someone else’s.
He saw a boy about his own age with dark-brown skin running alongside a rushing river. He was laughing, glancing behind him at a younger girl with a long black braid who was giving chase.
“You’re too slow, sister!” the boy shouted.
“Wait for me, Vrama!” the girl hollered back.
She tried to catch up to her brother, but her foot stepped too close to the riverbank. The loose dirt gave way, and she plunged into the rapids.
When Vrama looked behind him again, he saw that his sister was missing. “Anuja? Where are you? Are you hiding on me again?”
He heard a high-pitched scream and spun toward the river, where the rushing water was pulling Anuja away.
Vrama raced along the riverbank, keeping pace with his sister. She fought the current, but the river overpowered her and dragged her under. Vrama watched, panic in his eyes, waiting for her to surface again.
She never did.
Giacomo experienced the sadness and anger that had coursed through Vrama as if he had lived through the tragedy himself. Feeling helpless, Vrama blamed the gods for taking his sister from him, and he made a silent vow to one day become the most powerful warrior in the empire. He would protect and defend all the people in Rachana so no one would have to experience the suffering he had endured.
The memory faded, and Giacomo was back in the cavern. Vrama’s soul writhed and twisted within him.
I’m sorry for what happened to your sister, Giacomo said voicelessly. That must have been so horrible.
Anuja was a part of me, Vrama replied. She was my life. Do you know what it’s like to have a part of you ripped away like that?
I do, Giacomo said. My parents were taken from me.
A high-pitched twang startled Giacomo, bringing his awareness back to the physical world. The note echoed through the cavern, accompanied by a pulse of light. More notes followed until the cave—and Giacomo—were awash in yellow. Mico stirred next to him. Giacomo’s eyesight cleared enough to see a shadowy figure approaching, strumming a tambur.
Warrior Genius Page 17