by Samit Basu
Or not.
I’m glad Kirin is my best friend. Wish I could tell people he’s a ravian, at least Tiara, who I think really likes him. Which is not so difficult, he’s very funny. Good for Tiara, too; she’s growing a brain. She was very angry when she saw us hugging in Frags. Of course she would be shocked if she knew I brought him to the library. And if I mentioned he’s more than two hundred years old…
Must get some sleep now, I think we will hit the Untranslatables tomorrow. If that doesn’t work, then it’s off to Bolvudis.
Why did father ask me if I could act?
‘A world of magic,’ said the Civilian, ‘is not a world governed by rules. Of course, there are always rules, but where magic exists, these rules create themselves and change often. Look at Xi’en. They worshipped their dragons and used their magic to bring peace and plenty to the land. Then Danh-Gem stole Tatsu’s Gauntlet and wreaked havoc on the whole world, using the same power.
‘I don’t like magic. If I had my way, I would have removed it altogether from the world. Unfortunately, people like me – and I might just be the most powerful ruler in the world–cannot change the world. To do that you need a Hero.’
Asvin stood and watched her pace the library floor. It was morning, and bright sunlight was streaming in through the window.
The Civilian continued. ‘The Bard of Potolpur said of heroes, ‘Some die mediocre, some lose their mediocrity and some have their mediocrity removed forcefully.’ Not one of his best lines, perhaps, but true nevertheless.
‘But what no one pauses to consider, Asvin, is the fact that heroes are made. Heroes have to be trained, taught and protected. Their minds have to be opened and their deeds have to be recorded. This is done by people the songs do not speak of. The Hero School of Kol was established during the Age of Terror for this very purpose. They would find the brave, the intelligent, the daring and the simply lucky and teach them what heroism was. Then the Age of Terror passed, the ravians killed Danh-Gem and departed and the world was suddenly a less magical place to be in.
‘The Hero school went into a decline, because there were no monsters to slay and no quests to go on. The dragons, everybody’s favourite monsters, had disappeared and it wasn’t particularly heroic to go looking for their gold. In the end, the vamans tunneled upwards and took most of the dragon-hoards back below the earth.
‘The poets finished off their epics with flourishes and They-lived-happily-ever-afters. But no one lives happily ever after, Asvin. The world passed into the hands of people like the Chief Civilians of Kol – people like me. I believe not in magic but in money, not in valour and banners but in power and control. Swords are not the sharpest weapons, Asvin. Minds are. But when magic grows strong, reason is cast aside and swords may be the only answer.
‘But that is not what I have called you here to tell you, Asvin. You have waited patiently, and now I will give you the answers you seek. Some you already know.’
‘It is the year when Danh-Gem is supposed to return,’ said Asvin hesitantly. ‘And you think I might be the hero Simoqin the ravian spoke of. That is why you had me saved and brought here, and that is why you took me to the Room of Signs.’
‘Exactly. And you passed every test. You can wield the Bow of Fire, and Simoqin’s prophecy describes you accurately. Of course, I brought you back from the dead and ensured Amloki, who is half your height, brought you to this human city. But I assure you, in later ages, the songs will not sing of that.’
The room had been quiet before, but the silence was now deafening. Asvin felt as if a giant weight had suddenly been placed on his shoulders.
‘What do I have to do?’ he asked. ‘Slay Danh-Gem? How?’ There was a chair next to him. He sat. It seemed like the smart thing to do.
‘Danh-Gem has not risen yet,’ said the Civilian. ‘But I believe he will. And when he does, it is my task to ensure that you are ready.’
‘And you say the songs will not sing of you!’ cried Asvin. ‘Even if what you say is true – if my dreams have come true and I can achieve what you think I might – you will be the true leader of the forces of Good.’
The Civilian took a deep breath. ‘Try not to use that word, Asvin. It makes me feel ridiculous. Danh-Gem was not evil. He was a power. He lost. The historians used to call him the Dark Lord, or the Prince of Darkness, or The Nameless One, or something equally foolish. I made sure they called him Danh-Gem. It does not matter if he was a rakshas. At least, that is what I believe. You will not find words like Evil in the history books of Kol. But that too may change.
‘Ask any asur who the most evil person in the world is, and they will say ‘Temat of Kol’. The same Temat of Kol who allows them to work in a city full of prejudice and hate. They did not follow Danh-Gem in madness or fear. And if he wins this round, the new histories will probably chronicle the fall of evil – and that evil, Asvin, will be you and I.’
‘I have much to learn at Hero School,’ said Asvin, blinking.
‘Hero School is not where I will send you. I wish I could, for I myself was a student there years ago. But now the Hero School is not good enough. They train economists, administrators, merchants and accountants, the people who run the world today. And there is also the threat of recognition. I did not tell you, but you were seen when you were coming to Kol. Our friends in the Avranti Embassy have told us that the Ambassador recently received messages asking him to hunt for you in Kol. If you stay in Kol, you will be recognized, and I cannot risk Avranti’s displeasure in these turbulent times.
‘Besides, if you are indeed the true hero, there is a place you are destined to go, and it is there that I will send you. An island called Bolvudis. You are going to be trained there, Asvin. You are going to be trained as no hero has ever been trained before.’
‘Who is going to train me?’
‘There is one teacher left in Hero School who remembers the old ways, and tries to teach them to unwilling students. He is a vaman, and his name is Gaam. He will go with you to Bolvudis, and there you will meet Mantric the spellbinder. Amloki will go with you, and assist you in every way. And for luck, you will take the rabbit I gave you.’
‘Fluffy!’
The Civilian almost giggled.
‘Yes, Fluffy. And there is another person I intend to send with you. She is Mantric’s daughter Maya, the most brilliant young spellbinder in Kol. She will aid you in your quests and share your adventures.’
‘What about the Silver Dagger? Will he not aid us? If I am indeed the hero, should I not meet him?’ asked Asvin eagerly.
‘He will join you when he is needed, as he has before,’ said Temat, looking amused. ‘It is quite possible, though, that one of the members of the Silver Phalanx will escort you to Bolvudis. Amloki will meet Gaam and Maya later, and arrange a meeting.’
‘I will not let you down,’ said Asvin fervently. His heart was beating wildly, and his face was flushed with excitement.
‘I should hope not. Only time can tell, though. As I told you in the Room of Signs, Asvin, you have become very valuable. I will not wish you luck; apparently your stars have already done so. Leave Kol quickly and quietly, tomorrow, at dawn. There will be no ceremony, no grand farewell. Learn well, learn fast and prepare yourself. I hope – I trust, that if Danh-Gem ever does return, you will be all we hope you are.’
‘May I ask you something, Lady Temat?’ said Asvin, feeling dismissed and scared.
‘Certainly.’
‘Simoqin the Dreamer made the prophecies to Isara before he died. The ravians knew Danh-Gem was going to return. Could it be that they will return too?’
‘No one knows where the ravians went, Asvin. And know this – no matter how great and noble the ravians were, they were, like all other living beings, fundamentally concerned with themselves. If they left the world seeking a better one, I do not think they will return, for their war with Danh-Gem was to avenge the deaths of Simoqin and other ravians, not to vanquish evil or even protect huma
ns. Psomedea and Ventelot had fallen long before the ravians joined the war. If Danh-Gem returns, will we see ravians again? That is another question only time can answer, for the books are silent. We will wait and see.’
Chapter Seventeen
‘Mind control. You’re a ravian. You can control minds. That’s why I waste my time with you,’ said Maya as she and Kirin walked down the stairs towards the lowest level of the library. The library was mostly empty – classes were in full swing in Enki University. There were a few final-year students doing research work, but they were mostly in the Advanced Magic section, which was on the top floor of the five-floor library, the only floor above ground.
‘Well, it’s supposed to work on less intelligent beings, so it’s a possibility,’ said Kirin. ‘The asurs do listen to me. Animals, too. And most pashans. But one of the books said only the most powerful ravians could control the minds of humans, and they generally didn’t want to.’
‘Yes. But do you think you might be exerting some power over the minds of people without realizing it?’
‘Do you think so? I don’t know. If I do, that is why the Stuff sells so well, I suppose. I think that’s why all the human history books speak so well of ravians. The sweet-tongued folk and so on. Me, I don’t think I’ve got that much power.’
‘True. Anyway, I wouldn’t know, since it wouldn’t work on me.’
‘That’s what I would want you to think.’
‘Rubbish.’
‘Doesn’t everything I say sound amazingly right?’
‘No.’
Kirin grinned. ‘You’re just being petulant.’
‘No, Kirin. And I’ll tell you why. Ravian mind-control never worked on beings with magical powers.’
‘Or so we would have you believe.’
‘Believe my fist in a second, when it meets your face. And you know I’m right about ravians not being able to control magical beings. That’s why Danh-Gem stopped sending asurs and humans to attack them and sent rakshases and dragons instead.’
‘Did he also send guards to the university? Why are there so many today of all days?’
‘The Civilian sent them to guard the library. But the librarian threw a fit and said he wouldn’t allow more than one guard in. It should take a while before they make it past him, so calm down.’
They reached the lowest level of the library. Very few spellbinders bothered to come here – it was more like a storeroom of books. The other library floors were well-lit and airy, but on the lowest level the shelves were closely packed and the room was dark and stuffy. The whole floor was filled, floor to ceiling, with tattered, worn old magical books, some brooding darkly, some fluttering, others pushing and shoving for more shelf space.
In a dark corner of the library, a middle-aged, wheezing Red Phoenix guard sat on a little chair near a little door and tried to read, pretending to ignore the hisses and whispers from the books around him.
Kirin and Maya crept up behind him. It was dangerous to use magic inside the library, which was why Maya hadn’t used a simple drowsiness-inducing spell. The effect of magic fluctuations could have very strange effects on the books. So Maya just watched, as Kirin closed his eyes. On the topmost shelf behind the guard, a heavy book about centaur biology slid slowly to the edge of the shelf.
A small cloud of dust rose as the book fell off the high shelf, landing with a clunk on the guard’s helmet. There was no particular change in his expression as he toppled over and sprawled out on the floor.
‘Nice work. We’ll have to move fast, before the other guards get here.’
They went into a tiny wooden room, lit by a tiny Alocactus. It was empty except for a single shelf on which six books were arranged. Maya closed the door.
‘The Untranslatable books. Possibly Danh-Gem’s personal collection,’ said Maya softly.
‘Not a particularly voracious reader, was he.’
Maya laughed. ‘No, he read quite a lot, but mostly very dirty books. They did find some magic texts, but nothing we don’t have at Enki. Rakshases have very powerful magic, you know, and Danh-Gem would have made an amazing spellbinder.’
‘Probably would have ended up teaching.’
‘Definitely. These books were part of the settlement that let asurs into Kol after they surrendered. It’s fairly safe to say they were all Danh-Gem’s, or perhaps they belonged to some trusted henchman of his, because I don’t think visitors to Imokoi had much time to read or write. ’
‘Well, now what?’
‘We borrow them for a while. Get six other books. No one will know.’
Kirin picked up a book. He flipped it open. It was written in a strange runic script. It was illustrated, and very obviously a book about torture. Kirin shut it with a snap. He felt slightly sick.
‘Are all the books in the same script?’ he asked.
‘No. Some are in ravian scripts, some in runes. But they’re all in the same language, the words sound the same. We can talk about this later. Hurry.’
‘It’s all very well when you want to give droll little footnotes on asur migration, but I open my mouth and suddenly it’s a bank robbery.’
Unseen by either of them, a large black shape slipped down the stairs. A huge, hairy arm shot out and grasped a book that had begun to growl. The book squeaked and was silent. Bali often had that effect.
Kirin picked up the books and one of them slipped and fell at his feet. It was a small, thin black book with silver edges. Kirin picked it up.
The edges of the book started to glow. He opened it. The pages were blank.
‘Why is this book glowing?’ he asked Maya.
Maya looked stunned.
‘It doesn’t do that normally,’ she said. ‘Give it to me.’
She took the book from him.
‘This is odd,’ she said. ‘The edges of the book are made with moongold, the same metal as the ring I put on your finger. But only the ravians used moongold.’
She gave him the thin black book, picked up the other five from the shelf and turned towards the door. ‘Come on,’ she said.
Then things began to happen very fast indeed.
Before his nearly-two-hundred-year holiday as a stone statue, Kirin had been trained to fight by the ravians. The memories of ravian-style unarmed combat training had stayed in his body, and he had never lost a fight. Of course, Spikes was generally with him, so he hardly ever got into fights. Still, no one ever dreamt of not paying for the Stuff. The unique thing about ravian-style fighting was that the ravians not only knew where all the nerve endings were and where a subtly placed finger would stop blood flow, muscle movement and so on, but they also knew, in a most uncanny manner, where the opponent’s next blow was going to land. Most of Kirin’s fighting consisted of not being in the wrong place at the wrong time. His ravian reflexes made him almost impossible to hit.
At that precise point of time, however, Kirin was concentrating on the book in his hand. Even so, he saw, in a corner of his mind, the huge black shape crashing through the door, knocking Maya out, and then spotting him. He saw the huge fist speeding towards his back. He could have jumped to one side, he could have at least turned around, but there was a slight problem.
It was a tiny, narrow room and there was nowhere to go.
And Bali was very, very fast.
As Kirin slumped forward, Bali scooped up the Untranslatable books. At the same time, there was the sound of many booted feet on the stairs. The Red Phoenix guards had arrived.
Holding the books under one arm, Bali looked around wildly. He needed a hostage.
One of the fundamental laws of Nature is that when a great ape (or ape-man) visits a big city for the first time, he kidnaps a young, beautiful woman and climbs up a tower. The laws of magic can be broken, but no one argues with Nature. Bali picked Maya up and threw her over his shoulder. Kirin opened his eyes and spun around. He pulled a Rope Trick out of his cloak. No magic in the library, it could implode, he remembered just in time.
A guard came out from behind a shelf and saw Bali. He shouted a warning and drew his crossbow, but it was too late. Bali knocked him out of the way and ran. The other guards didn’t dare shoot, so they drew their swords and charged. Bali jumped over them neatly and bounded up the stairs.
The guards followed. Kirin got up groggily. He still had the book; its edges were glowing brightly. He stuffed it into a pocket and ran in pursuit.
A few final-year students were studying peacefully when they saw the vanar with Maya slung over his shoulder, bounding up, a staircase at a time. They ran, scattering their books as Bali practically flew across the huge hall and crashed out of a window. He loped down the street, his strides growing longer, and then took to the air. The guards ran out of a door and gasped.
The vanar wasn’t flying. He was jumping, but each bound took him higher in the air, and he was jumping from wall to wall with amazing skill, zigzagging across the street, further and further upwards. The Red Phoenix guards ran to their vroomsticks and flew after him, blowing horns furiously. A few blue-uniformed city guards also gave chase, but Bali was moving much faster than their carpets, his incredibly powerful legs thudding against the walls. Carpets and vroomsticks scattered as the huge gorilla-man arced through the busy airways.
Far below, Kirin slipped out of the library and watched hopelessly. There was nothing he could do.
Bali practically ran up a tower, and paused for a moment, drawing in huge gulps of air. He looked around wildly, scanning the skyline, searching for the quickest way out of Kol.
He smiled grimly. It had been a long time since anyone had hunted him. East, he remembered. He saw the river shining steel-grey far below, the Civilian’s palace gleaming white, and several small maroon and black figures racing towards him, flying faster than the others. Elite troops? He crouched and sprang eastwards.