by Lisa Morton
At first she’d dismissed the sounds of rustling brush and the side glimpses of furtive movement as just more of the local wildlife, but she began to realize that what she was sensing was very large and moving upright. And there was more than one.
Amitabh and the other sepoy sensed it, too, and brandished their rifles anxiously. The two Indians actually began to look frightened, and Diana hoped they wouldn’t suddenly join the mahout and leave she, Mina and Yi-kin alone in the Indian jungle.
They rounded a bend in the trail, crested a small rise, and suddenly discovered their destination awaiting them on the other side:
They faced a small but ornate temple nestled in amongst the trees and vines. Made from stone, its columns, spires and domes had once been gaily painted, but much of the colors had been worn away by time and the destructive natural elements. Brilliantly-hued birds nested in the spires, screaming into the jungle and occasionally taking flight in pursuit of immense insects. Even though the temple seemed to have been abandoned long ago and was fighting a losing battle with the encroaching growth, Diana nonetheless experienced a moment of awed breathlessness at both its beauty and decay.
Without warning Mina darted forward, running directly across a small stream and into the front entrance of the temple.
“What is she doing?” asked Yi-kin.
Diana smiled and started forward. “She’s found the gateway.”
They made their way over the narrow, muddy creek and hesitated at the entrance to the temple to allow their eyes to adjust. Diana had brought a small lantern, which she removed from her supply bag now. She lit it, then, holding it aloft, led the way inside.
The temple interior was quite long and very low; pillars marched off into the gloom on either side of a central passage. Diana halfway expected the place to be cobwebbed and crawling with vermin, but it was surprisingly clean. In fact, it was possibly too clean.
Her cat had run all the way to the rear of the temple and stationed herself just to the right of what appeared to be an altar. Diana ignored Mina’s hissing as she eyed the altar and the wall behind it.
Unlike a Christian altar, this one was plainly not intended to hold a minister, but to strike reverence and fear into the hearts of worshippers, and Diana thought it horribly effective. The wall was painted a bright red, and displayed various scenes of a many-armed monster engaged in acts of destruction. As Diana stepped forward and examined the fresco more closely, she saw that the monster in question was (of course) Kali. Her again, with her four arms and three eyes, black skin and long wild tresses, skirt of severed human arms and necklace of severed heads.
In front of the wall, on a low table, sat a bust of the goddess, with her open mouth and crown-like headdress. The bust was surrounded by what might have been decorations or offerings, including flowers and food.
And they were fresh.
“Miss Diana,” Yi-kin whispered near her, “soon someone here.”
“You mean ‘recently,’ Yi-kin,” Diana whispered back.
“No, I mean, soon. Please go quickly with gateway.”
Diana nodded. The Book of Gateways, Conjurations and Banishments had indicated that the proper protection for anything coming through this gateway was a mantra called a dharani, to be read aloud. Diana had copied the short chant onto a single sheet of paper, buried in the bag; she hoped she wouldn’t need it, but it seemed unlikely that closing this gateway would be a simple task. She held out the lantern and called, “Amitabh, can you take this?”
No one took the bag. She looked around, and saw Yi’kin likewise peering about in confusion. “Mr. Amitabh, where—?”
Yi-kin broke off as they both heard a sound behind them—a cry and a shuddering gasp, coming from the temple’s main entrance. They whirled, and made out the silhouettes of their two sepoys outlined in the doorway.
Both men collapsed to the temple floor.
And there behind the fallen men stood their murderers, still grasping lengths of twisted cloth. There were at least four of them visible in the doorway. They were coming in now, stepping over the two dead men.
Thuggees.
Diana backed up until her back touched the altar; next to her, Mina broke off hissing at the invisible gateway and turned to howl at the advancing stranglers, the hair on her back and tail standing straight up.
There were now seven of the Thuggees. They all held deadly garrotes, and looked ready to use them. Diana thought back to what she’d read on the cult, and realized that was all quite useless information.
Her books had said the Thuggees never attacked either foreigners or women.
Diana let her right hand creep into her bag, where she had the iron knife. She was formulating a plan that consisted of hurling the lantern at the cultists, then dodging to one side as she struck out with the knife.
And then Yi-kin was flying and she never had a chance to test her plan.
He was moving so fast that Diana barely had time to see what he was doing. She saw him launch into an astonishing spinning kick, lifting his leg so high that he took out a man easily a full head taller than himself. His hands were hooked into strange claw-like positions, and the second Thuggee fell, scratching at his bleeding face. Yi-kin then spun on his heels, twisting impossibly between two attackers, and then he leapt straight up and launched kicks with each leg that rendered the pair instantly unconscious. The remaining three Thuggees actually pulled back, hesitating before attacking the whirlwind that was Yi-kin, and in that moment of their hesitation he spun towards them, lashing out with low kicks that brought all three men down to the pavement. From there it was a simple matter to knock them out.
He stood in the middle of the seven unconscious men, triumphant, and not the least winded.
Diana was about to express her astonishment when Yi-kin held a finger up to his lips, indicating silence. Diana froze, and he moved silently up to the temple entrance. After a brief hesitation, he leapt through, and Diana saw two more of the Thuggees, who had been stationed secretly just outside, grab for him—before their heads banged together and they joined their fellows at Yi-kin’s feet.
Now Diana did cry out: “Yi-kin, that was extraordinary! How did you—?”
And then his reaction silenced her as she saw that Yi-kin was frozen in shock and staring at something to her left.
She turned in time to see Kali materializing as she stepped through the gateway.
There was no mistaking the massive, nightmarish vision approaching Diana: She stood easily seven feet tall, with the top of her elaborate headdress just brushing the ceiling. Her skin was ebon, her hair long and unkempt, her four arms waving (at least only one was clutching a sword), a belt of severed arms circled her waist, and shriveled, shrunken heads beaded on an abominable necklace hung over her chest. Her three eyes took in the sight of her defeated and unmoving followers, and then her fiery gaze turned directly to Diana.
Yi-kin ran back from the temple entrance and launched himself at the goddess-demon in a flying kick. His feet impacted with the she-thing’s chest…and Kali barely staggered. Two arms swatted the young man aside as if he were an insect, and he flew backward twenty feet to collide painfully with one of the stone pillars. Diana barely had time to glimpse him sliding down the pillar, dazed, before Kali’s attention turned her way again.
Kali flung her sword at Diana’s heart.
Mina shrieked and flung herself at Kali; the goddess batted the cat aside easily, but her thrust was knocked askew and the sword plunged deeply into the wood altar. In the instant that it took the goddess to wrench the sword free for another attack, Diana upended her bag and snatched the sheet of paper with the dharani as it fell. She faced the maddened goddess with a lantern in one hand, the mantra in the other.
“Namo saptanam samyaksambuddha kotinam—” she chanted, her tongue struggling with some of the syllables, and she could only hope that incorrect pronunciation would not affect the power of the dharani.
Kali had the sword raised again, and this time
she brought it straight down. Fortunately her movements were slow, her speed compromised by her bulk, and Diana was able to dodge the blow. The sword hit the stone floor with an explosion of sparks and a clang that made Diana’s ears ring. Diana was backed up against the altar again, giving her a brief space to continue the incantation:
“Tadyatha: Om, cale, cule, cundi svaha.”
That was the extent of the chant. Diana looked up expectantly, hoping to see Kali stagger back towards the gateway, or shriek in defiance…and instead Kali brought an arm down, her naked fist striking the altar to one side of Diana. Her aim was off, and she smashed her own bust into pieces, which caused her to howl with demonic rage.
So much for the dharani.
Mina leapt at the monster again, but Diana threw the dharani aside to catch the frantic feline, packed her under an arm and ran. She went about ten paces, then turned and flung the oil lantern at the monster.
The lantern didn’t hold much oil, and only a small patch of Kali caught fire as the glass shattered, but the flames provided the powerful distraction Diana had needed. In desperation she lunged for her overturned bag, released Mina, clutched the iron blade and charged straight at the monster.
Kali was caught by surprise, and Diana buried the knife up to the hilt in Kali’s chest, hoping it was near the thing’s heart. Diana’s effort was rewarded by an agonized shriek—and then a mighty, clawed hand lashed out and clutched Diana’s wrist.
Diana tried to wrench away, but Kali’s grip was inhuman. The goddess clearly intended to pull Diana in to that gaping, fanged mouth, and there was nothing Diana had strength to do. She was dimly aware of Mina spitting and slashing at Kali’s feet, to no avail—
—Incredibly, Yi-kin was there behind the goddess, pulling at the ruhpal he’d wrapped around her throat.
Yi-kin had both feet planted on the nightmare’s back, and was drawing back on the ends of the garrote with every bit of strength he possessed. Kali was startled enough to release Diana as she grappled at the ruhpal with all four hands. Rather than flee, Diana reached forward and grabbed the knife, twisting it with both hands and trying to saw it through Kali’s chest.
Her exertions were successful, because the creature suddenly stiffened, shuddered, issued a long, foul-smelling exhalation, and then toppled over.
Yi-kin jumped away as the thing hit the floor, and this time Diana heard him panting in the gloom. “Miss Diana, you are fine?”
“Yes, I’m all right, Yi-kin. Are you—?”
“Good,” he told her.
Diana scrabbled on the floor for a moment, and located her bag. There were matches inside, and she lit one, looking around. She spotted a torch in a holder on one of the pillars, and held the match up to it, hoping it would catch. It did. She took the torch down from the sconce and thrust it out towards Kali.
The she-demon had turned to stone. Kali looked like nothing more than a toppled idol now.
She’d also fallen face forward, and Diana knew her knife was gone, buried under a bulk weighing more than what she and Yi-kin could probably move.
Mina had returned her attention to the gateway, and Diana thought it would be wise to close the portal as swiftly as possible, lest something even worse than Kali decide to come through and avenge her death. Diana looked around for something else with a sharp edge, and she spotted a shard of the shattered lantern glass nearby.
“Yi-kin, take this,” she said, holding the torch out to him.
He did, and Diana pulled off her jacket to roll up her left sleeve, then bent and retrieved the glass shard. As Yi-kin watched, wide-eyed, she matter-of-factly sliced her arm with the edge, waited for a few seconds as the blood began to flow, then faced the area of the gateway and cried out:
“By my will and by my blood is this gateway sealed forever!”
Her blood flew through space and then abruptly splattered and smoked as it hit the unseen gateway. Mina yowled a last time—
—and then it was done.
Diana waited, gauging the success of the closure—as always—by Mina’s reaction. Mina was already rubbing around Diana’s ankles, purring happily. Yi-kin must have noticed the way Diana relaxed, because he asked, “Just now is gateway close?”
“It’s closed,” Diana agreed.
One of the Thuggees was beginning to moan as he regained consciousness, and Yi-kin said, “We go.”
“We go,” agreed Diana, pausing only long enough to gather the contents of her bag, pick up her jacket and Mina. She took a scarf from one of the downed Thuggees on the way out, and wound it around her arm; she could bandage that more effectively when they were safely away from the temple.
At the entrance they passed the bodies of the two soldiers. “What about them?” Yi-kin asked.
Diana knelt and felt each man for a pulse. There were none.
“I’m afraid there’s nothing more we can do for them.”
Another of the Thuggees began to stir, and the fate of the sepoys’ remains was sealed, as Diana and Yi-kin fled.
They went back the way they’d come, at a half-jog. They kept up that pace until their exhausted legs could carry them no further, but fortunately they’d nearly reached the edge of the jungle when their strength gave out. Although there’d been no sign of pursuit, they barely spoke until they’d reached the main road again, where Diana noted that the man who had rented them the elephant was conveniently absent.
The doolie carriers still waited patiently, and instantly leapt to their feet, but Diana couldn’t stand the idea of forcing these men to stagger under her weight again. She gave each of them a pound sterling (much to their astonishment, and voluble gratitude), and dismissed them while Yi-kin stood by silently.
After an hour’s rest, they were following after the smiling doolie men, walking side-by-side on the return route to the city, trying to avoid camel trains and piles of animal dung.
“Miss Diana,” Yi-kin queried finally, “what will happen to Thuggees? When they see goddess like statue?”
“It wasn’t a goddess,” Diana countered.
“But it look like paintings….”
“It did,” admitted Diana, “but the things that come through the gateways aren’t gods and goddesses—they’re monsters and demons. That particular demon created an army of followers by convincing them that it was a goddess. What I don’t understand is why a demon would need a human army. If the things in the netherworld are allying themselves now with human forces in this world…that begins to sound like a true war.”
“Not goddess?” Yi-kin persisted.
“Yi-kin,” Diana asked with a faint smile, “would we have been able to kill a goddess?”
Yi-kin thought about that, then admitted, “No.” Then he asked, “War? We have war with monsters?”
“Maybe,” she answered.
“Can we win war?”
“I don’t know,” Diana mused, gazing off into the poppy fields lining the road. “It won’t be easy when spells that are supposed to work against them don’t—like the mantra that should have protected us from Kali.”
Yi-kin nodded. “Oh, I know mantras. Indian people believe mantras work if they say them many times.”
“Ahh,” Diana murmured, realizing that perhaps the mantra was supposed to have been chanted before Kali had stepped through the gateway. Then she returned her attention to Yi-kin, admiringly.
“But with a few more like you on our side we can. What was that back there?”
Yi-kin answered proudly, “My father teach me Wing Chun style of gong fu. After baba die I still practice.”
“I wish I’d known you could do that,” Diana chided him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Yi-kin shrugged. “You never ask.”
Chapter XII
May 22-23, 1880
Canton, China
The Althea completed her voyage to Canton without incident. Diana spent most of the final leg of the trip in her quarters, stroking Mina and reading.
After the events of
Calcutta, she discovered her anger at Antonia had subsided, and they resumed their friendship. Diana (and Yi-kin) told Antonia little of what had actually transpired in Kali’s temple; they claimed only that the two sepoys had deserted them just after they’d found the temple, and that they’d accomplished their goal there.
When Yi-kin wasn’t working or sleeping (a rare activity with him), his time was entirely given to Diana now. Having seen her steely composure in the temple, Yi-kin stood somewhat in awe of her, and she was similarly impressed by the young man’s ability in what he called gong fu. She considered asking him to teach some of it to her, but she decided to wait until they were on steady land again. They did, however, continue to study each other’s language, and Diana found in Yi-kin a hungry and intelligent pupil; she, likewise, enjoyed the way her own mind was energized by learning the Chinese language. Yi-kin soon began to grasp the notion of conjugating verbs and the many tenses of English, and Diana’s Cantonese inflections began to provoke less laughter from him.
Captain Hughes and Antonia continued to express their dismay at Diana’s plans for going ashore in Canton (or at least in her leaving the confines of the British area, called Shameen) but after the events at the temple of Kali, Diana was more intent than ever on inspecting the Canton gateway. She believed that the Indian Thuggee cult had been led astray by forces from the netherworld that had apparently been intent on creating an army of lethal human allies. She’d never heard of such malevolence before, and felt a renewed urgency to close as many of the gateways as possible. As a result of the attacks on William and herself, and Chappell’s notion that there might be some sort of vast war brewing, Diana bore a newfound and immense responsibility.
On the morning of May 22nd, the Althea steamed past the island of Hong Kong (“Now that is truly a savage place,” Hughes told her, with a gleam in his eye) and soon after entered the mouth of the Pearl River at the “Bogue,” which had seen heavy fighting during the Opium Wars of four decades earlier. The weather was fine, and the area was really quite picturesque, with rugged cliffs on one side and a broad estuary on the other. Fishing boats and Chinese junks lined the shores, and the water was dotted with smaller islands.