by Amanda Lees
The king let out a deep sigh. At least he had the Ayah to comfort him. She had proved herself a tower of strength in between her trips to tend her sick aunt. Mercifully, she only ever went for a few days, insisting she did not want to leave him alone too long. Although when she reappeared this time she had done something rather strange to her hair. It had turned shades of yellow. How on earth could that have happened? Something to do with her aunt’s illness? The mysteries of the feminine were imponderable. The king stared into space.
The butter lamps flickered again. He thought he saw something glisten. The king shuffled closer to the picture. There it was, without a doubt, a tear. A droplet forming in the corner of one eye, spilling, coursing down the canvas. The message that he’d hoped for all these long and lonesome months. Reaching out a hand, the king scooped it up and licked his trembling finger.
It tasted of salt, of blood, of love. It was a resounding ‘no.’
‘Thank you,’ he sobbed. ‘Oh thank you, thank you.’
At last, his queen had spoken. He must never give up hope.
Some day he would be reunited with them both. Until then, he would wait.
From her hiding place, the Ayah watched, teeth clenched in rage. Wretched portrait! How she had hated that woman. Her sister. She had had it all: king, country, child. Everything the Ayah secretly wanted for herself. And would still have, whatever it took. Kidnap, extortion. Double-dealing. Even murder. All right, so forget the child. King and country would suffice.
In his weakened state, the king was the perfect puppet for her plans. She had been careful to act as his confidante, to induce the sense of dependence she desired. Despite all her efforts, however, he still preferred to talk to the portrait of his dead queen. It was galling but no matter. She would get there in the end. She needed the king alive to ensure the docility of the people. Their loyalty to him remained absolute despite the absence of Maximum National Happiness. It would be far easier to take the country with the king under her thumb. Simpler to subdue a nation whose figurehead was almost helpless.
Slipping out the door, the Ayah headed for the hills. This time there was no RHM to follow her. She had known he was there, of course, but the man was easy to evade. Besides, he would never find his way through the labyrinth within the rock. And him thinking himself so clever. The stone maze could only be navigated by those who knew it was there. Otherwise, it appeared impenetrable, nothing more than a wall of granite. But the Ayah had played here since she was a tiny child, had explored it with her sister.
Her sister.
Curses on her. How she wished she had never been born. The green claws of jealousy had clutched the Ayah from the moment she set eyes on her sibling: beautiful, good. Perfect. Nothing like the Ayah in any way. And then her sister had gone on to marry the king and jealousy had turned to hatred. Then she had had the child to compound everything. The day Kumari had been born the Ayah again cursed the gods.
She could still remember her sister begging her to come to the palace although it was strictly forbidden. Once elevated to royal status, all contact with immediate family was lost. Posing as a distant cousin had been the one way she could be smuggled in. Much as it rankled at the time, it had been too good a chance to miss.
For the Ayah had spotted her opportunity and had already begun to plan. The Kingdom was there for the taking, slumbering on as it had forever, its citizens stupefied by Happiness, the god-king a gentle ruler. Seize the reins and it would all be hers, along with all the wealth and glory Then people would bow down to her, would tremble in her presence. Once she had suppressed them, of course. Shown them who was boss.
All she had to do was proceed with cunning; stealth, for now, was the best way forward. It had enabled her to remove her sister and then her child without anyone being able to point the finger. Once they had disappeared, the king was a sitting duck, victory almost a foregone conclusion. Prudently, however, the Ayah also preferred to take the long view. Which was why she had decided to use Kumari to raise funds for her ultimate mission. She would need money to pay the warlords, to get them to help her take the Kingdom and suppress it. Then she would be its absolute ruler with access to all the Kingdom’s secrets and riches.
She would even force the king to use one of his Great Gifts and grant her eternal life. Despite this, she still needed the warlords; it was unlikely the palace would fall without a fight. Too many loyal supporters of the god-king and his family. Although she did not count the RHM amongst them. The man had his own agenda. For that very reason she had never left the kingdom for too long, despite the urgent need to find Kumari.
To leave was to lay the way open for the RHM and he clearly felt the same way about her. Angrily, the Ayah pressed on, resentment fuelling her footsteps. Emerging from the rocks, she marched over to the trees, thrusting her way through until she reached the clearing and the old shepherd’s hut. The door to the hut was never locked. There was no need; no one ever came near here. Inside, she powered up the generator and switched on her laptop.
Connection to the satellite was instant. She scrolled through her messages. Nothing. Furious, she slammed the laptop shut. What were those idiots playing at? They seemed to have dropped off the planet. There had been no communication from them for weeks now. Surely they could not have got themselves incarcerated again? Could they really be that stupid?
Time was running out, for her and for Kumari. Razzle would only pay up if he found the secret of eternal life. For that, Kumari had to be alive or freshly dead and her year and a day was nearly up. There was nothing for it; she would have to go herself, back once more to Manhattan. Spin the king that line again about her ailing aunt. In the meantime, she might as well do some work. The Ayah was nothing if not diligent.
It was how she had found Razzle, through relentless searching on the internet. Googling endlessly until she found the paper he had written on ‘The Cosmetic Holy Grail: Eternal Youth.’ The minute she saw that, Kumari’s fate was sealed. It was clear the man would pay anything for such a prize. And so it had proved, once she had initiated contact. All she had to do was deliver and the money was hers. With it, she could put her plans into action. Insurrection was expensive.
‘I can get the girl myself.’ Imagine! He would never have known about Kumari if it wasn’t for her. Well, they would see who got there first. Simon Razzle was a surgeon, not a sleuth. After all, the girl had slipped through his fingers yet again.
Calmer now, the Ayah reopened her laptop. It paid to keep a cool head, to think down the line. After all, she’d been planning this for ever. Or at least since the day that child was born. The Ayah might not have been so favoured by the gods but she had made the most of what she’d got. Education, that was the key. Especially for the ugly sister, for the one who was not destined to marry a king. Knowledge had been her weapon and she had wielded it well.
Logging in to her online English course, the Ayah picked up the day’s assignment. Families. What could be more appropriate?
‘Mother, sister, brother . . . ’ she recited.
‘Uncle, aunt, niece . . . ’
She stopped, choking on the words, snapping the laptop shut a final time. Forget this. Forget procrastination.
It was time for Plan B, for action.
KUMARI’S JOURNAL
(TOP SECRET. FOR MY EYES ONLY.
EVERYONE ELSE KEEP OUT!
THIS MEANS YOU!)
The World Beyond
November 21st – very, very late – 9 days to go
(stop it, Kumari, just stop it!)
I don’t know what to write. I’m so confused I don’t know where to start. It’s 1am and I can’t sleep. I just keep staring at Mamma’s picture and thinking. Badmash looks so cute all tucked up, but when I look at him it makes me think even more. I mean, he’s stuck here too, like me. We’re all stuck, me, Mamma and Badmash, in one place or another.
It all started with this TV show on the Geography Channel. We had to watch the Geography Channel on accoun
t of CeeCee’s project. She’s doing a whole thing about some place called Borneo, where she says the people used to be headhunters. I found that rather hard to believe so I double checked with Ms Martin. Turns out, not only is it true but Ms Martin has actually lived there! She says it was when she served with the Peace Corps and helped set up a jungle school.
I mean, respect! It’s kind of hard to imagine Ms Martin in the jungle, what with her A-line skirts and all, but she said she’d show me the photos of her with the Iban in their long-houses (that’s the people who used to be the headhunters). She said in the old days the District Officer used to have to count the heads to make sure a new one hadn’t appeared! Come to think of it, Ms Martin does wear skeleton earrings so maybe she’s cool with bones. Whatever. I suppose she must be. She is a science teacher after all.
Anyway, CeeCee is doing her project about the same place so Ms Martin said she’d give her some information, but in the meantime to watch this show tonight on the Geography Channel which is what we were doing when suddenly these mountains appeared. Turns out it was the show before the one we were supposed to be watching and it was all about this mountain range and I swear I recognised the peak of one. I’m sure I saw it once, back home, in the distance.
I remember because it was when Mamma took me on a walk to show me where she had played as a kid and we climbed up these rocks and looked out towards the distant mountains. One had a peak just like a bird’s beak and when I said that Mamma laughed and told me that’s what she used to call it: Eagle Beak Mountain, although that was not its real name. And that got me thinking – I suppose there could be more than one mountain in the world shaped like that. Of course there must be. But it reminded me of home so much that it physically hurt.
I had that sudden flash of Mamma. It was like I could hear her voice all over again. ‘Eagle Beak Mountain,’ she said and then she laughed and took my hand. I had to leave the room I was so shaken up. I suddenly realised I had forgotten Mamma there for a bit. I suppose that’s because I’ve learned to look after myself instead of expecting Mamma to do it. I’ve worked out things Mamma would have explained – things like why people are sometimes mean. Or how often they can be really kind just when you don’t expect it. Then all the stuff about friends and boys – Mamma would have really liked Chico, I’m sure. I know I’ve had help along the way, from Ma and Ms Martin and my friends. Those people weren’t there before – it was just me, Badmash, Papa and Mamma. So how could I forget about her when she’s still stuck in that awful limbo place? There must be something I can do to help. I mean, what am I doing here?
CHAPTER 23
‘Ms Martin?’
‘Yes, Kumari.’
‘I don’t know what to do.’
‘Read through the chapter and then answer the questions at the end.’
‘I don’t mean my homework assignment, I mean my life.’
Ms Martin looked up from the papers she was supposed to be marking although Kumari could see the crossword half-concealed in the pile in case Ms LaMotta appeared. Ms Martin hastily shuffled the papers together and gestured to a chair.
‘Sit down, Kumari,’ she said. ‘Why don’t you tell me about it?’
Trouble was, she didn’t know where to begin. There was the kiss; that changed everything. Or maybe it didn’t. And then the fact she was friends again with Hannah and Charley. Plus the essay contest, HUNK and the benefit concert coming up. That was going to be amazing -Deranged were playing. Not to mention the improvements at Rita Moreno. OK, so she wasn’t responsible for that, although Ms Martin said she partly was. Something about being an inspiration. But all things considered and despite all of the above she couldn’t help but feel pretty miserable.
‘Kumari?’
Ms Martin was waiting. Still she could not find the words. How do you explain what you don’t understand? Especially when what you don’t understand is yourself and everything is so mixed up.
‘It’s OK,’ said Kumari. ‘I’m sorry to bother you.’
‘Wait. Come on, Kumari, sit back down. I can see there’s something on your mind. Why don’t you tell me what it is? Maybe we can solve the problem together.’
‘I don’t think so, Ms Martin. You see, I have to go home. I still need to find out who murdered Mamma. There’s so much here for me now but it’s just not enough. And the thing is, going home, it’s impossible. That’s my problem. I’m stuck here when I should be there and there’s nothing I can do.’
‘I see,’ said Ms Martin. ‘Is there anything else that’s bothering you?’
How did she know? Sometimes Ms Martin was really smart.
‘Um, yes, actually, there is. The Happiness thing, well, I’m not. Happy, I mean. And I feel such a fraud when I tell people about it. How can I preach Happiness when I’m miserable in my heart? How can I tell people what to do when I’m unhappy myself?’
Ms Martin thought for a moment. Then her eyes lit up.
‘I’ve had an idea Kumari,’ she said. ‘Something that’s just connected in my mind. There might be another way to locate your kingdom. A kind of indirect route. My father told me only last night of someone who is trialling a new technique, even more exciting than DNA-mapping. If it worked we could find out where in the world you come from. Or at least get very close. That would make you happy, wouldn’t it? Then your problems might be solved.’
‘You mean it? When can we start?’
‘I’ll call him right away. And Kumari, don’t worry’
‘I won’t,’ Kumari lied.
The minute the man produced the needle it brought it all rushing back: Simon Razzle, endless injections. Terror and pain.
‘Kumari, that’s a pretty name,’ he said.
‘It means “goddess” in my country’ Kumari looked nervously at Ms Martin, who gave her a reassuring nod. Badmash puffed up his feathers and fixed the man with a beady look.
‘My name’s Theodore. But you can call me Theo. There we go, all done.’
Kumari looked at her arm. There was the tiniest mark which he proceeded to cover with an elastoplast. She saw the syringe laid in a dish.
‘Is that my blood?’
‘Certainly is. Hopefully this will tell me all I need to know. Well done, Kumari. You were very brave.’
At this, Badmash settled his ruffled tail feathers. He had obviously decided Theo was OK.
‘You can relax now, buddy’ smiled Theo. ‘I like your bird,’ he said to Kumari. ‘What is he, a Gyps vulture?’
‘Um . . . I’m not sure,’ said Kumari. ‘He’s just Badmash to me.’
‘Well, he’s a pretty cool character, whatever he is. And he obviously loves you to death.’
He nodded to Ms Martin.
‘I’ll give you a call when I find something.’
At the door, Kumari turned.
‘Does this mean you’ll be able to locate my homeland?’
‘I hope to, Kumari. I’ll give it my best shot.’
His smile lit up his whole face. Kumari noticed the way Ms Martin glanced at him.
‘Thank you,’ said Kumari. ‘By the way, what does Theo mean?’
‘Theo means “God’s gift”.’
Kumari giggled. Ms Martin actually blushed.
‘These markers, what do they mean?’ Ms Martin peered down the microscope.
‘They mean Kumari is someone very unusual. I’ve never seen anything like these.’
Theo glanced at the clock. Almost midnight and they still had a way to go. He’d had to call her over when he found the markers, though. Or at least that was what he told himself.
‘Can I get you a coffee, Ms Martin? It could be a long night.’
‘I’m fine, thank you. And my name is Helen.’
Great smile, thought Theo.
‘You know, Helen,’ he said. ‘The evidence does indicate something extraordinary is going on here. There are more things on heaven and earth, as Bill Shakespeare said, than you or I could ever dream of.’
‘“There are more
things on heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” Hamlet: Act One. Sorry, I’ve slipped into teacher mode.’
‘No need to be sorry. It suits you. I’m sure you’re a fine teacher. Now, shall we cross-match these results with the geographical index, see what we get?’
A few moments later, Theo sighed.
‘I’m getting nothing.’
He sat, tapping his teeth with his pen. There had to be some way of doing this. Her markers did not relate to anywhere. Officially, Kumari was off the map. All of a sudden, he sprang to his feet.
‘The bird!’ he cried out. Rifling his bookcase, he pulled out a fat tome. Skimming through it, he landed on a page.
‘There it is.’ He held it up triumphantly. ‘The Gyps vulture, now only found in a handful of places. Sadly, these birds are nearly extinct, which is bad news for them, but good news for us.’
He tapped away at his computer. ‘I can narrow this down further,’ he said. A few moments later he stabbed at the screen with his finger.
‘Bingo!’
‘We have it?’ asked Helen, eyes wide with excitement.
‘We have it,’ he whooped. ‘Given what Kumari says about her kingdom, it’s got to be one of these two spots.’
‘I’m speechless,’ said Helen.
‘Me too,’ said Theo, gazing into her eyes.
‘So,’ she said, after a moment. ‘When can we take her there? I can ask Daddy to organise a plane. He’s already offered to pay’
‘I guess so,’ said Theo. ‘It seems such a shame to lose her. These markers, they are unique. Not really human at all. Perhaps that’s what she means by “goddess”. It could be some genetic aberration specific to her family. A condition they attribute to have divine significance.’
‘Even Kumari doesn’t think she’s a goddess. She told me she gave it up. She said she chose to become a mortal, otherwise she’d die after a year and a day’
‘You can’t give up your genetic make-up. It’s in your bones, your blood. It would be like changing every atom, rewriting your DNA. If Kumari was born a different being, then that is what she remains.’