by Amanda Lees
Helen gazed at him for a moment then curled her lip and shook her head.
‘You really think there is something in it, don’t you? I’m surprised at you, Theo.’
‘Shakespeare said it all. We know so little, you and I. All of us humans, we use a tiny bit of our brains. Who’s to say that the legends are not true? Maybe god-like beings did once walk the earth. It’s possible they still do. Come here, I want to show you something. Look at this, through the microscope.’
He could smell her perfume as they both bent to the eyepiece. It was fresh and yet there was a note, a lingering undertone of musk and spice.
‘You see that crescent shape? No human marker looks like that.’
‘What crescent shape?’ said Helen.
‘It was there a moment ago. Now, wait a minute.’ He was fiddling with the microscope, moving the slide around. When he looked up, his face was pale.
‘It’s gone. So have most of the others.’
‘What do you mean, it’s gone?’
‘Maybe it’s just this one slide.’
He raced to the fridge for the other samples. Exactly the same result. Helen stared at him, bewildered.
‘Theo, what’s going on?’
‘My guess is that it’s what she told you. About having a year and a day to live. Kumari might think she gave up being a goddess but her samples tell a different story’
‘Are you telling me she’s dying?’
‘That’s what it looks like to me. It’s already started at a cellular level. Seems her time here is nearly up.’
Helen’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘Then we can’t waste another second.’
She was out the door before Theo could grab his jacket, taking the stairs two at a time.
* * *
‘All right, all right!’ yelled Ma. ‘Hold your fire. I’m coming.’
Kumari opened her eyes. It was still dark outside, the street light filtering through the thin curtains. Someone was banging on the door, in the middle of the night. Throwing back her covers, she peeked into the hallway. There was Ma in her marabou-trimmed dressing gown, opening the door to Ms Martin. With Ms Martin that guy, Theo. What was going on?
‘Kumari!’ Ms Martin was at her side in a trice. ‘Kumari, we need to take another blood sample right now. It’s very important.’
‘It’s the middle of the night,’ said Ma. ‘Can’t it wait until morning?’
‘I’m afraid not,’ said Theo. ‘This is something we need to check out now.’
At his tone, Ma went quiet. Kumari saw the fear flicker in her eyes.
‘What’s going on?’ asked Kumari. ‘Why do you need more blood?’
Theo knelt down beside her and placed his hand on her arm. ‘I’m not going to lie to you, Kumari. Something appears to be deteriorating in your cells. I just need to check your blood against the samples we took.’
‘What do you mean deteriorating? Something is wrong with my blood?’
‘I need to be certain. Hold still. That’s it.’
Kumari was too busy looking at Ms Martin’s face to notice the needle going in. She, too, looked worried and her smile was kind of tight.
‘What’s happening?’ It was CeeCee and LeeLee, shuffling out of their bedroom.
‘Nothing,’ said Ma. ‘Go on back to bed.’
It felt so surreal, standing around in the hallway at 2 a.m. Ma must have noticed too because she began ushering them into the living room.
‘Sit down, sit down. Can I get you anything?’ she was fussing round, fidgeting, which was unlike Ma.
And then Theo was murmuring something to Ma and Ms Martin, all three of them turning to stare at her. She could see the shock on their faces and, worse than that, the pity.
‘Kumari.’ Theo was kneeling once again, his kind face inches from hers. ‘Kumari, we have to get you home. This is not looking good. Your cells, they’re slowly dying off. Your year and a day must be nearly up. We need to get you back to your kingdom as fast as we can. Hel . . . Ms Martin’s father is organising a plane.’
‘But that’s impossible,’ said Kumari. ‘I gave up being a goddess.’
‘Apparently not,’ said Theo. ‘Whatever you did can’t have worked.’
Then she remembered. That weird inkling with Chico. No, more than an inkling. It had been her Powers all the time. So much for Renunciation.
‘I knew it!’ said Kumari. ‘My rituals are as lousy as ever. I can’t even get that right. I can’t even resign.’
‘There, there,’ said Ma. ‘You did your best, honey.’
‘My best isn’t good enough!’ wailed Kumari. ‘Besides, how can I get home? There’s no point organising a plane if you don’t know where it’s going.’
‘But we do,’ chimed in Ms Martin. ‘Or at least, we can get very close. Theo has narrowed it down to one of two possible places barely a hundred miles apart.’
‘You’re kidding?’
‘I’m not. Kumari, you’re going home.’
‘I’m going home. Unbelievable! Back to the Kingdom. Ohmigosh!’ The tears started to fall. ‘I can see Papa and try to rescue Mamma and . . . ’
Suddenly she stopped. A very big but filled her brain. There was something she had to do first. Really had to do, for all her friends here, for many more besides. She had promised to help spread the possibility of Happiness and she had to keep her word. She could feel the fear bubbling in the pit of her stomach. But what if I don’t get back home in time? Just go! And then another voice in her head: You have to, Kumari. You promised.
Taking a deep breath, she blurted before she could change her mind. ‘There’s the concert. The benefit. It’s . . . tonight.’
In precisely eighteen and a half hours to be totally exact.
‘Forget the concert,’ said Ma. ‘We need to get you on that plane.’
‘But it’s for HUNK,’ said Kumari. ‘It’s going to be on TV!’
‘Ma’s right,’ said Ms Martin. ‘There will be other concerts.’
‘There won’t,’ said Kumari. ‘Not where I’m going. You see, it’s not just any old concert. I promised to talk about Happiness, to spread the HUNK message. It’s so important I do that. It might be the only chance the World Beyond gets to hear about it. I gave Mr Raider my word. I have to be there.’
The adults all looked at one another. Written across their faces, ‘She’s insane.’
‘You said my cells had started dying off,’ said Kumari. ‘How long have I got?’
Theo looked uncomfortable. ‘It’s hard to say for sure. Look, Kumari, I really think you should listen to Helen and, ah, Ma. It’s still only a concert after all.’
‘It’s not only a concert. It’s also a fundraiser for HUNK. It will get the message across to millions. And my school gets twenty per cent if I turn up.’
‘Twenty per cent? Pretty good,’ said Ma.
‘Of gross. I negotiated with Mr Raider. So you see it’s important that I go. I mean, like, crucial.’
The grown-ups exchanged glances yet again.
‘You’d risk your life for this?’ said Ms Martin.
‘I promised,’ said Kumari. ‘I need to be there for my friends. Rita Moreno needs the money. The World Beyond needs to hear HUNK’s message. I’m still alive, aren’t I? I think I can make it through another day.’
‘There’s no changing your mind, is there?’ said Theo.
Kumari smiled. ‘Not a chance.’
‘Then promise me one thing – we leave straight after the concert?’
‘It’s a deal,’ said Kumari.
She dropped a kiss on Badmash’s head.
‘Hey, boy, we’re going home.’
Badmash rolled on to his back and waggled his belly for joy.
CHAPTER 24
The roar filled her ears like a thousand hungry lions. Ranked in front of the stage, a barrage of cameras. Madison Square Garden: home to some of the greatest gigs in history. And now a platform for HUNK. Things did not get any better than this. Above the s
tage, a massive banner setting out HUNK’s manifesto:
Get Happy
Stay Happy
Spread the Happiness Around!
Beside her, Jack Raider, oozing charm and confidence. And then he was taking her by the hand, leading her back on to the stage.
‘Give it up, everyone, for Kumari!’
Another roar, this time deafening. He handed her the microphone. ‘Go HUNK!’ she yelled.
‘Go HUNK!’ they chanted. Now this was fun. She tried another.
‘Get Happy, Stay Happy!’
Dutifully, they echoed. Raider snatched back the microphone.
‘And now, everyone . . . Deranged!’
He did a sort of swivel-hip thing – Tragic Dad Dancing. Jack was not as cool as he liked to think. Kumari smothered a grin. In the front row she could see them all: Ma, the girls, Theo, Ms Martin. Still no sign of Chico. Where on earth could he be?
A crescendo of guitar chords drowned out her thoughts. Deranged were running on stage behind her. She recognised the intro: ‘Heaven Sent.’ Her favourite song ever. All of a sudden Pete, the lead singer, was beckoning to her. Oh my god, no. This was not happening. He was holding her hand.
Pete shot her a sideways glance, then grinned and began to sing. Behind them, a massive screen on which she was projected. The cameras were zooming in, the crowd singing along too. She thought she must have died and gone to heaven. It was worth it, all of it. How could she leave here now? How could anything beat this?
She glimpsed the front row.
He was there. Chico.
Now things were absolutely perfect.
Just when it was time to go.
* * *
In his room at the YMCA, the RHM stretched out on his bed. Jetlag dulled his mind. He might as well flick through the TV channels. Tomorrow morning, he would try once more to pick up Kumari’s trail. This was his last chance to find her, his final trip to Manhattan. The year and a day was all but up. If he failed, he would have to tell the king to give up hope. Worse, he would have to alter his own plans. In the pit of his stomach, a lurking dread. Kumari was not coming home.
He gazed at the TV blankly, barely taking in the images as he channel-surfed. He was flicking through them so fast he almost missed the show. Scrolling back, he took another look. Astonishingly, there she was. The hair and clothes were different but it was definitely Kumari, standing alongside some young man, her face filling the screen. A caption flashed up, Live from Madison Square Garden. It was all the information the RHM needed. He was out in the street in a trice.
‘Madison Square Garden,’ he told the cab driver who stopped. ‘Please hurry’
He was only a few streets from his quarry. The hunt was back on.
On the other side of Central Park, someone else was watching television. Simon Razzle had it on in the background with the volume down as he tried to fend his creditors off by phone.
‘Mr Razzle? I’m afraid he’s not in. No, this is not Mr Razzle. I will tell him you called.’
The hired heavy by the door yawned, never once taking his eyes from the state of the art TV.
‘Cute chick,’ he growled, shifting his considerable bulk.
Irritated, Simon glanced up. The man was not paid to talk. For once, though, he was glad he had done. It was her, up there on the plasma screen. The telephone rang again.
‘Mr Razzle? He’s not here.’
His creditors were closing in on him. Before his very eyes, the golden ticket out of this mess. The passport to millions in the slender shape of one girl. All these weeks trying to think up some way to snatch her back without getting arrested and she was there, right in front of him. The kid. Kumari. The answer to his prayers.
‘We’re leaving,’ snapped Simon, throwing on his cashmere coat. ‘Where’s that other idiot?’ The heavies came as a matching pair.
At that moment, the door burst open and Simon instinctively ducked.
‘I got hot dogs for everyone,’ said the other heavy. ‘You OK, Mr Razzle?’
‘No, I am not,’ snarled Simon. ‘How many times have I told you not to burst in like that? You give the secret knock and wait. In any case, we’re leaving. Get me to Madison Square Garden. Quickly, you morons.’
He had no idea what he would do once he got there.
But there had to be some way to get the girl.
CHAPTER 25
The stage lights dimmed. Another intro twanged out. As one, the audience flicked open their lighters. ‘Shoot Me Down in Flames.’ Kumari’s second favourite song ever. She could hear the crowd screaming over the sound of the guitar chords. Their yells punctuated the drum beats. This was what it must be like to be so popular.
‘Kumari!’
Wow. They were calling out her name as well.
Smiling, Pete led her forward to take a bow, right to the front of the stage. Hands were reaching out towards them, the audience stamping and whistling.
‘Kumari! Kumari!’
They were pumping their fists, waving their hands in homage.
Suddenly, one of those hands had a hold of her. She stared down into eyes she recognised. It was that lunatic, Simon Razzle. And he was trying to pull her off the stage.
Staring up into the spotlights, Simon felt the fury rise. She was there, within feet of him. Salvation was inches away. He could hear the blood pounding in his skull; see it rise in front of his eyes. A scream formed behind his teeth, trying to force its way out of his mouth.
The pressure. He had to relieve the pressure. His head felt fit to burst. He thought his heart might explode. The girl was almost within reach. All he had to do was grab her. Never mind that there were thousands of people present. This was it, his one chance. And then she was right there, standing alongside the singer. Her smile was the final straw. How dare she look so happy? He had meant to wait for a more opportune moment, but he could not ignore the blood rush.
‘Give me your gun,’ he snapped, snatching it from one of his heavies. Thank God the goon was thick with a security guard who owed him a favour. Tucking it in his belt, Simon lunged for the girl.
It was almost too easy, the way he reached out and grabbed her ankle, holding on fast as she looked down and, horrified, met his gaze. Simon bared his teeth in a grin.
‘I got you now, baby’ he crowed.
* * *
No one else had yet realised what was happening. Another tug and she’d be his. Desperately, Kumari lashed out, kicking with all her strength. Finally spotting her predicament, Pete hauled her back from the edge. She saw Simon’s face as she was ripped from his grasp. His eyes were crazed, his mouth twisted in a snarl. Like a dog refusing to let go of a bone, he leapt after her, on to the stage. Suddenly, everything was chaos. There were people running on from the wings. And then the light glinted off something in Razzle’s hand. He was waving a gun.
He grabbed hold of her once again. ‘Stay back or I’ll shoot!’
Now this was all too real. Security were hanging back, not knowing what to do. The band dived for cover. Everyone was screaming. And then someone else strode on stage.
‘Let her go at once!’ he demanded.
Kumari’s head whipped round at the familiar voice. Could it really be him? Yes, it was the RHM, his face like thunder. At last – they had found her at last.
‘Let her go,’ the RHM said again. ‘I command you to do so in the name of the king.’
‘Says who?’ sneered Simon, waving his gun. ‘This makes me king around here, buddy’
At that exact moment, a furious flurry of feathers attacked, pecking at Simon’s eyes.
‘Be careful, Badmash,’ yelled Kumari.
A loud report as the gun went off. A few feathers floated to the ground.
‘No, no,’ Kumari sobbed.
And then a familiar squawk as Badmash swooped from the lighting gantry. Lashing out with his sharp talons, he swiped at Simon’s cheek.
‘I’ll get you for that!’ shrieked Razzle, swivelling, trying to find Badmas
h in his sights. There was another, enormous bang. Far too loud for any gun. It sounded more like thunder, a gigantic roar of rage from the heavens. As it died away, Badmash dived once more, slicing open Simon’s hand so he dropped the gun. It skittered across the stage, with Simon in hot pursuit. Another rumble drowned out the yells of outrage from Razzle. One final deafening crack and the stage was plunged into darkness.
A figure emerged from the shadows.
Raised above the figure’s head, a sword, fashioned like a scimitar.
Kumari let out a gasp. She would recognise the sacred sword anywhere. The sacred sword of the kingdom: one of the few ways to kill a goddess. And now it was pointing at her heart, coming closer and closer. A sudden blast of light illuminated the centre of the stage. Someone must have hit the emergency spotlight. Its beam bounced off the sword, momentarily blinding Kumari. Blinking into the white glare she could only make out a silhouette. And then the figure spoke. It was a voice she had known all her life.
‘I should have killed you then. That day on the mountain. But it was far too dangerous. There are eyes everywhere in that wretched kingdom. Instead, I chose this, the World Beyond. A slow death in some ways. A slow, complicated death as it turns out but with a profit margin that made it worth it. Or it would have done, if it hadn’t been for all those bungling fools and your own efforts. You are too much trouble, Kumari. But then, you always were.’
From behind the figure, more emerged, fanning out to form an arc. One in particular bared his teeth in a semblance of a ghastly smile. She felt a wave of faintness crash over her. She was looking at her kidnappers. Suddenly, it all made sense. And it was that knowledge that broke her. Falling to her knees, she felt the fight drain away.
It had been her Ayah all along.
CHAPTER 26
The sword was at her throat now, pressing into her flesh. She could see the tooled and bejewelled hilt. Wrapped around it her Ayah’s hand, knuckles white as she clutched it. She looked up then, into her Ayah’s eyes. They shone with pure hatred. How could she have been so blind? The Ayah was her enemy. The woman who had helped bring her up now wanted her destroyed. Confused, disbelieving, Kumari could only stare. Her throat tightened at the touch of cold metal. She stifled a scream.