by Samit Basu
She had been confused in the morning, when Spikes’ trail had disappeared on the rocks, but then she had seen the vanars jumping down into the rock chamber by the waterfall.
Above the waterfall, the Silver Dagger was prowling about. He found Spikes’ footprints, and Kirin’s, and the asur’s, and three vanar tracks. Spikes’ footprints led up to a strange, flat circle in the forest, around which grass grew in a thick ring. There were no footprints inside the circle, and no footprints leading out. Even the earth in the circle seemed to be of a slightly different colour, a little darker.
It was as if they had disappeared into the earth.
The plot, like the grass, had thickened.
The Dagger pulled a scarab, a quill and a parchment out of his Necessity Belt and disappeared into the forest.
Chapter Seven
‘Come in.’
Asvin entered Mantric’s hut. ‘You sent for me?’ he asked.
‘Yes. Gaam tells me your training goes well,’ said Mantric, getting up and putting away the scroll he was reading.
Asvin smiled, but said nothing. Mostly because he found Mantric thoroughly intimidating.
‘Perhaps it is time for a little test,’ said Mantric. ‘To see how much you have learned in the last two weeks.’
He gave Asvin a piercing look. ‘Sit.’ Asvin sat.
‘Why do dragons lust for gold?’
‘Dragons do not lust for gold. They hoard gold because they are often lazy, and do not like to go out in search for food. Rumours about their hoards ensure a steady stream of questing heroes, in other words, a staple diet. The dragon lust for gold should be called the dragon lust for gold-lusting food,’ said Asvin.
‘Correct. Have you seen the sirens of this island?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why are you still alive, then, if those who hear the songs of the sirens rush towards them, blind with desire, and kill themselves in one way or another?’
Asvin was quiet for a moment, remembering the singing girl in the forest. Then he remembered he was being tested, and quickly said, ‘It’s because of the perfume you’ve sprayed on them, to protect your actors and enable the sirens to add that touch of glamour to the Muwi-visions.’
‘Elaborate.’
‘Should I talk about the Eurekus Test?’
‘Yes.’
‘Very well. Eurekus, a powerful Psomedean king, once decided to find out more about the sirens, whose songs were destroying ships and forcing his mariners to take a long and complicated route around the Ossus Archipelago. He conducted what was called the Eurekus Test. He sent two ships to the island of sirens, each with a captain tied to the mast to report on the effect of the songs on the sailors. Neither returned. The sailors on the first ship jumped off the ship and drowned as soon as they heard the songs, and the ship was dashed to pieces on the deadly rocks around the island. The sailors on the second ship had wax in their ears, but when they saw the beautiful sirens they jumped off the ship too, and this ship was wrecked as well. This disproved the commonly held theory that it was the song of the sirens alone that drove men insane.
‘Then Eurekus sent two more ships. Neither of these returned either. The sailors on the third ship were blindfolded, and didn’t have wax in their ears, and navigated through instructions the captain shouted. But this didn’t work either–when they heard the song, they jumped off the ship, and it was wrecked. The fourth ship never returned either, but it was not known whether this shipwreck occurred because the sirens had mysterious powers even beyond their beauty and music, or simply because the sailors on this ship had no idea where the ship was going, because these sailors were blindfolded and had wax in their ears.’
‘Very good. Do you know who resolved the issue?’
‘Yes. You did. You discovered in Kol that human attraction works not only through sight and sound, but through smell as well, as you described in your famous book, The Nose Knows. And you sent a ship with sailors with blocked noses past the island of sirens, and they were fine – they cheered and whooped when they saw the sirens, but stayed on the ship. Then you deduced that the sirens had a powerfully attractive scent, and that was the key to their charms. So you made a perfume that countered that smell, which is why Bolvudis is safe now.’
‘Excellent. Gaam has taught you well. Now follow me.’
They headed for the caves at the other end of the island. The sun was rising over the sea, and in its light Asvin saw imps flying back from the Very Blue Lagoon.
Gaam and Maya were waiting for them at a cavemouth. They walked into the natural labyrinth that ran under the island, in the light of a fireball hovering over Mantric’s head. He led them through the damp, rocky maze, muttering under his breath, through narrow, downward-spiraling tunnels and deep caverns that were never used for the Muwi-visions. Asvin and Gaam spoke in whispers – neither of them knew where they were going.
‘Do you know of the Seven Heroes, Asvin?’ asked Mantric suddenly.
‘Yes.’
‘What was the mysterious thing about them?’
‘No one knew how they traveled all over the world. It is well known that they routed the forces of the Hudlumm Revival in Ventelot and killed the Marauding Mummy of Mul-gharib in Elaken on the same day. Yet they could not have journeyed from Ventelot to Elaken in one day, even if they flew. There were many similar instances – the mystery was never solved.’
‘Well, today you will find the answer,’ said Mantric. They reached a dead end in a damp tunnel.
Mantric tapped on the cave wall, thrice, and muttered a few words. Immediately a section of the wall disappeared. ‘Cloaking spell,’ Mantric said to Maya, who nodded.
They walked into a little cave where, in a beautiful, ornate gold frame, studded with rubies, stood a mirror, filling the cave with a soft silvery light.
‘This is the Mirror of Icelosis,’ said Mantric. ‘This is the reason I have spent the last three years here, and this is why you have all been brought here.’
They stood in front of the mirror, and noticed that their reflections looked much cleaner than they did.
‘This mirror, and six others like it, were made by Simoqin the Dreamer and Jaadur the spellbinder of Kol, one of the Seven Heroes,’ Mantric continued.
‘There were seven mirrors, one for each hero. This is the Central Mirror, the mirror of Icelosis, the shape-shifting enchanter of Psomedea, chief of the Seven Heroes. In the early years of the Age of Terror it was installed here, on the forgotten island of Bolvudis, hidden from the spies of Danh-Gem. When the heroes wished to assemble for their quests, they would simply walk into their mirrors, in their own lands, and be transported here, to this very chamber. Then they would travel together, through this mirror again, to the mirror nearest the place where they had to go. That is how they could travel from Ventelot to Elaken in a day, Asvin. And they could carry the mirrors with them if they needed to. It was a secret they kept well, a means of escape and travel unparalleled even by the legendary Chariot of Vul.’
‘How did you find out about this?’ asked Maya.
‘A few years ago, I found the secret diary of Jaadur of Kol, in a dusty corner of Enki Library. It was a record of how he had made these mirrors. It was after that that I journeyed to Bolvudis, and found this mirror lying in this deep cave, uncared for, unused since the Great War.’
‘And these mirrors, these gateways – could anyone use them?’
‘No. Only the seven heroes could. But Jaadur, in his diary, said that after Simoqin’s death, when he heard Simoqin’s prophecy, he altered the fabric of the central mirror, to let any true hero pass. Which is why we are here. Because it is now that we will find out whether Asvin is truly the hero Simoqin spoke of.’
‘And are all the other mirrors intact?’ asked Gaam.
‘I do not know. I cannot travel through the mirror. Heartbreaking, I assure you. I know the mirror in Kol cannot be used – it lies at the bottom of the river Asa, cast there by Jaadur himself before he made the last entry
in his diary, before he left for the Last Battle. As for the rest, I do not know. All I know is that the hero has to say the name of the hero whose mirror he wants to emerge from, and step into this mirror.’
‘How many people know of this?’ asked Maya.
‘The Chief Civilian, the Silver Dagger, and myself. We set this plan in motion when we saw the year of the Simoqin prophecies was almost upon us. But today is the first real test of both the mirror, and our hero.’
‘Well, why did you bring Gaam and me, then? If only a true hero can walk through the mirror, we’d have to travel the old-fashioned way, wouldn’t we?’
‘I do not think so. I think it’s only a question of opening some sort of portal through the mirror, and the rest is – you know. Because the Seven Heroes traveled in style, with servants and Chroniclers, who were all were sworn to secrecy about the mirror – is there anything about this in the Chroniclers journals, Gaam?’
‘No. This is astounding. They all betrayed the Chapter!’
‘Yes.’
‘But that means… nothing in those journals might be true!’
‘Forgive me for not caring. To return to your question, Maya, once a hero has passed through the mirror, the gateway probably stays open for some time, allowing others to pass through. I do not know – this is all conjecture. We will find out soon enough.’
‘So if Asvin is the true hero, he will be able to pass through the mirror to one of the other six?’
‘Hopefully.’
‘And what then? We all train some more, and wait for Danh-Gem to turn up? That doesn’t sound like much of a plan.’
‘I agree, but we have to work with what we have. If he can pass through the mirror, I will be able to send him on a number of quests, and thus get powerful weapons, armour and magical objects – and prepare him for the battle against Danh-Gem.
‘You are falling into common error here, Maya. Training the hero is probably the most crucial part of the whole quest. Do you think Eurekus could have carried out his Twelve Labours if he had never been trained to wield a club by Black Oak the centaur? And our plan has another purpose. Slowly, as Asvin’s powers grow, rumours about a mysterious hero – who will save the world if Danh-Gem returns – will begin to spread. This will keep people from panicking, and ensure that sudden widespread chaos does not break forth at the slightest whispers of Danh-Gem’s return.
‘I will keep sending Asvin on quests, so that he may learn more about the world we live in and find many magical objects that may save his life, and yours, later. Then, if all goes well, when he is ready, or when Danh-Gem returns, whichever is earlier, we will return to Kol and the name of Asvin, hero of Simoqin’s prophecy, will be announced by the Civilian, and he will be the city’s champion against the forces of Danh-Gem.’
‘And when do these quests begin?’ asked Maya.
‘Today. Why do you think I brought you here? Today you will embark upon your first task. Today will be the day when Asvin gets his sword – a very important day for most heroes, I understand.’
Asvin’s eyes shone with excitement. This was what he had been waiting for. The prophecy said he would bear the most powerful weapons in the world…
Gaam was excited too. ‘You have chosen a sword for him?’ he asked. ‘You might have consulted me – I have some knowledge in these matters.’
‘I’m sure you do, and that, begging your pardon, is precisely why I did not consult you, for I have strong views on this subject. The sword the Civilian and I have chosen for the Asvin is the sword of one of the Seven Heroes – the famous sword of Queen Raka of Durg, the most famous warrior-queen in history. It is the sharpest sword in the world, and all things considered, sharpness is what we look for in swords. ’
‘There are other swords,’ said Gaam dubiously. ‘I have heard of the sword of Raka, of course, but do you think that is the best possible sword for Simoqin’s hero? I mean, it doesn’t even have a name. And magic swords should have names.’
‘In the east, we do not name our swords – we consider it silly,’ said Asvin, ‘I would be thrilled to bear Raka’s sword. I have heard of it. It rests in state in the palace of Queen Rukmini of Durg, our one friendly neighbour.’ He rubbed his nose, puzzled. ‘To be fair, though, we do name our bows and arrows, which is just as silly. I never thought of that before.’
‘There are a number of reasons why we have chosen the Durgan sword for Asvin,’ said Mantric. ‘First of all, getting the sword will not involve any danger – the Chief Civilian has known young queen Rukmini since she was a child, and has already asked her to lend us this sword, and Rukmini has agreed. But it will be good practice for the rest of you – going through the mirror, and so on.’
‘Where is the mirror in Durg?’ asked Asvin.
‘I do not know. Somewhere in the palace, probably. Perhaps it is lying forgotten in some store-room. Or perhaps it is broken, in which case you will not be able to go to Durg and we will have to have the sword brought here.’
‘Or we could get another sword,’ said Gaam, looking dubious. ‘Raka’s sword may be the sharpest in the world, but it doesn’t have any special powers.’
‘I think the special powers of swords are really overrated,’ said Maya. ‘For example, a sword that shines, or yells, in the presence of enemies could be a serious inconvenience, don’t you think? It could draw enemies in the dark to you like moths to a candle. Or take the Talking sword of Olivya – most of those who bore it died when they paused in the middle of a battle to ask it to repeat what it had just said.’
‘Or the Invisible sword of Icelosis,’ said Mantric, ‘which was never found after he dropped it in Danh-Gem’s Wasteland. Perhaps it is lying there still.’
‘Oh, very well,’ said Gaam, looking disgruntled. ‘Let us get this sharp sword, then.’
Asvin was looking slightly downcast. ‘What is it?’ asked Mantric.
‘Well it’s not really a quest, is it?’ Asvin said. ‘I mean, we just go to Durg, ask Queen Rukmini for the sword, and come back with it.’
Mantric smiled. ‘Do not seek danger, Asvin, for if you do it will surely find you,’ he said. ‘If we are entering another age of high magic, as I suspect we are, I am quite sure that you will get all the danger and excitement you crave, and perhaps more than you can take.’
‘But something puzzles me, father,’ said Maya. ‘This reputation-building we are trying to achieve – well, couldn’t we have just gone ahead with the Silver Dagger, whoever he really is? People all over the world know of him already.’
‘Yes, but you forget we are looking for a leader who will give us hope. The Silver Dagger is famous, yes, but he works through fear, in secret. We need a hero, not someone who works for money, and often performs tasks which are – well, very necessary for Kol’s well-being, but not entirely heroic. A hero is someone even the enemy admires, albeit reluctantly – not a known thief and assassin, however powerful he might be. And to oppose Danh-Gem we need a face to look at, not a shadow of fear. Besides, the Silver Dagger wants to retire.’
‘Well, then, perhaps we should not wait any longer,’ said Gaam. ‘All this talk will be quite fruitless if we cannot pass through the mirror.’
‘Very true,’ said Mantric. ‘Step forward, Asvin, and let us see whether you really are the hero Simoqin saw in his dream.’
The first rays of the rising sun tiptoed through the window of the fortress on Tiger Hill and fell on the serene and striking face of Queen Rukmini of Durg.
‘Wake up, your Majesty,’ said Nidhi, shaking the young sleeper gently. ‘The sun is rising, and it is time for the Dawn Water Ritual.’
Rukmini sat upright and blinked. ‘Any news of Prince Chorpulis? Or the sword?’
‘No, your Majesty.’
Rukmini made an exasperated noise. ‘The fool! What do I tell Temat’s soldiers now?’
Nidhi frowned, more wrinkles appearing on her old, wizened face. ‘I did not like the idea of you lending the sword to Kol in
the first place.’
‘Don’t be silly, Nidhi. When Temat asks for something, you do not refuse. And what would we have done with the sword anyway? But that is irrelevant now. Do the soldiers of Kol know it is missing?’
‘No. When did the Civilian say she would send for it?’
‘She did not say,’ said Rukmini, clambering out of bed. ‘We had better find it fast, before she sends for it. I think some of the men of the Silver Phalanx are here, Nidhi.’
Nidhi shuddered. ‘You poor child,’ she said ‘I remember, when you were a little baby…’
‘You’ve told me all the stories, Nidhi. Let me think in peace now,’ said Rukmini quickly. ‘Also, the envoy from Potolpur will soon start making enquiries about Chorpulis. I must think of something to say.’
‘Well, at least you won’t have to marry him now,’ chuckled Nidhi. ‘Pompous, arrogant little brat.’
‘I wouldn’t have had to marry him in any case, Nidhi,’ said Rukmini icily.
‘But it is time, Rukmini. You are young, and beautiful, and the Avrantic sage said you would have many children.’
‘Yes, and he also volunteered to help me make those children. Forget all that – I’m worried about Potolpur, too, now. The Prince was under Durgan protection, Nidhi. And one of the younger princes, Kumirdanga, is missing too. There could be diplomatic trouble.’
‘That won’t happen, your Majesty. Nobody cares about Potolpur. And their feeble armies wouldn’t last an hour against you. Besides, Shantavan is shared territory, and the incident occurred there. It’s not your responsibility.’
Rukmini grinned. ‘It’s so ironic that it’s called the Peaceful Forest, isn’t it? Forget the tigers –we occupy most of the south and we are still the most warlike nation in the east, the Bandit King rules most of the northern ravines, whatever Avranti believes, and now that the rakshases have returned…you know, perhaps I should raise the army and find the rakshasi–the prince may still be alive. And we need the sword back for Kol.’