Magic and Mayhem: A Collection of 21 Fantasy Novels

by Jasmine Walt

  29

  Arkana, 3017—Present Day

  Yudi looks into the face of the woman whose existence had been unknown to him. As she narrates her story, it all feels unbelievable, as if he is caught in a strange dream.

  How is one supposed to feel on meeting someone who claims to be your birth mother?

  Yana sits in a chair that Mimir has brought for her, while Yudi mirrors Mimir’s earlier stance at the window, staring out of it. Mimir has left after introducing them, giving them a chance to get to know each other.

  “You look so much like me,” she says, breaking the strained silence between them.

  He turns around to observe her closely. I suppose I can see something of myself in her face. “Really? I don’t think we look anything like each other.”

  Disappointment fills her eyes and her expression falls at that, and he wonders if he should feel at least a little sorry for her. If only I could feel something.

  As if reading his thoughts, she says, “Don’t you feel anything?”

  Yudi shrugs, unable to meet her eyes. “You never made an attempt to contact me, not in all this time, and now you turn up with this fantastic story. I don’t know what to make of it.”

  “I could not afford to get in touch with you.” She stands and walks over to him. Clutching his arms, she says, “Do you understand? I could not be that selfish. If I had tried to find you, then it would have been all over very quickly.”

  “And so—”

  “And so…I have stayed silent for the last seventeen years.”

  “So all this time, you just stayed?”

  “Yes, in Shaitan’s palace.”

  “As his prisoner? You expect me to believe that someone would survive for so long?”

  “I did. I had to make sure you were safe.”

  “Why are you here, anyway?”

  “You stole the Isthmus, and he is furious.”

  “Why? Because, I am just a boy?” Yudi is delighted to discover Shaitan’s reaction. That’s one for me!

  “You hurt his ego, showed him down in front of the entire universe.” Urgency strains her voice. “It doesn’t matter what you think of me. I am not important. Only you are important.”

  Uncomfortable at how quickly she had dismissed herself, he protests, “Hang on a second—”

  She continues as if he hasn’t spoken. “Shaitan is on his way to take revenge. He knows you are his son, and now there is no way he will let you live. When he finds you, he will kill you.”

  “You told him about me?”

  “Yes, I had to. When I heard about the Isthmus, I knew it was you, and then I simply couldn’t stop myself from telling him. I had to hear it aloud for myself, feel that you were alive.”

  “How did you get here?”

  “I escaped, but that is not important. We should not waste any more time. While we sit here talking, he is coming. He will not spare you.” With indigo eyes so like his own, she pleads with him. “You must believe me!”

  “And if I do?”

  “You must kill him, Yudi! Destroy him and the evil he stands for.”

  “That must be a first, a mother asking a son to kill his father.” He pauses. “But, anyways, look, lady, he’s not my father. Athira was my true father. I have nothing to do with Shaitan or…or you.”

  “You can’t deny the birthmark.”

  “You know about the birthmark?”

  “Of course! I am your mother.”

  How does she know about that? It was his secret, his and Athira’s; he had managed to hide it from everyone so well that sometimes he forgot about that strange mark on his body.

  “So perhaps you are my mother. I admit, I do look a little like you. I guess you had your reasons for sending me away. But now you land in my life, just like that, without any warning, so I am sure you will understand if I don’t scream for joy and hug you and welcome you back as if nothing has happened.” Even to his own ears he sounds like a spoilt child.

  It is as if I am a five-year-old again, he thinks in disgust, wondering why he feels compelled to be so unkind to this woman. She is his mother; the resemblance said everything. And she even knows about my strange birthmark, yet I do not feel anything.

  Yana smiles for the first time. “You also have my stubborn streak, I see.”

  “Ah!”

  After releasing his arm, she holds up her hand. “I’ll leave you for now. Just promise me you will wear the Isthmus at all times to protect yourself.”

  Mimir walks into the room. “You have my word on that. Come, Yana, let me take you to your room. You should spend the night with us.”

  “What? She is going to stay here?” He had hoped she would say her piece and leave, and the thought of having her around fills him with dread. Out of sight, out of mind. So he had hoped. Fat chance of that happening now, with her hanging around like a ghost.

  “Stop acting like a little boy, Yudi. Your mother is tired from her long journey. Interplanetary travel is not a joke, especially when you are older. You will know when you get to her age.”

  He doesn’t reply. With a last glance at him, Yana follows Mimir from the chamber. Yudi sinks into the chair that she vacated. My mother. The phrase sounds strange in his mind, and he rolls it around in his mouth as if it has an unknown taste he is trying to decipher. Hmmm! What next?

  All he needs is for Shaitan to beg him for his life.

  30

  “Kill him,” Shaitan says softly, the underlying threat in his calm tone doing more to frighten the messenger who had brought him the news than if he had yelled. At least it has the desired effect of making the man pee in his sarong.

  “Hey!” The half human, half alien runt with a face that looks like a rat protests. “Haven’t you heard about not shooting the messenger?”

  “If I followed every single piece of advice that was once popular on Earth, well, I would have turned to be like you, no doubt!” He signals to Yaksha to do the deed, and as the man is dragged away, asks, “How many were there?”

  The real question he does not voice aloud is, How did a young boy and girl, mere teenagers, break into the Temple of Saturn, steal the Isthmus, kill my ward, and raze my pride and joy to the ground?

  “They were helped by Simh—Lion Man.” Yaksha’s voice emerges in its usual gravelly tone.

  “So? They had just one guardian on their side.”

  “They escaped on a powerful shape shifting spaceship.”

  Curious! “And how many such shape shifting spaceships exist in the galaxy?”

  “Just one.”

  “On Arkana. Mimir!” he swears. “I should have killed him when I stole the Isthmus—never too late, I suppose.”

  “Should I alert the army to march on Arkana?”

  “Hmmm! It’s a long journey, and this is a battle of wits. With Mimir on their side, we have to outthink them. No. Not the entire army. Just the Nagas; they are fast, vicious, and travel better than the others. And pick the best strategists in the army. For too long have I let Arkana be, because of my memories of the Academy of Half Lives. This time I will not spare the planet or its people.”

  Yaksha nods. “They must feel your anger. Let this set an example to the rest of the galaxy for what happens when you provoke Shaitan.” He hesitates. “There is one other thing.”

  Shaitan waits for Yaksha to complete his sentence

  “Yana is not in the palace. She has run away.”

  “How did that happen? I specifically gave orders to have her killed, and immediately.”

  “She begged to get a token belonging to her son, so she could have something of him with her when she died.”

  “And you agreed?”

  For the first time in all the time Shaitan has known Yaksha, he looks uncomfortable.

  “Uh! She told me that I had betrayed her once already, so this was my chance to make up for it.” He touches his freshly bound ear, drawing Shaitan’s attention to the wound for the first time.

  “She did that?”
>
  Yaksha nods, his lips tightening into a thin line, eyes downcast in shame.

  Shaitan laughs, unable to contain his mirth. “You let that…that slip of a woman get the better of you? I do believe you are losing your touch!”

  The enormous guard growls back, the words almost incomprehensible, “I have sent soldiers after her; she will be found.”

  “Ask them not to kill her. I want her back. After all, she is still my wife.” He wonders again if it was a mistake to marry her.

  Yana, the love of his life, yet after she had been forced to get rid of their first child, she had changed. He preferred to remember her as he had first chanced upon her. Flashing eyes, a living breathing, vigorous presence. Not the Yana she had become. Gone was the warm responsive human female, replaced by a numb, frozen parody of her previous self. Is the real Yana still somewhere inside there? It was as if she had forgotten how to live. Beautiful still, but as if she is in suspended animation, perfectly preserved forever in a parody of its former existence.

  Yaksha nods and makes as if to leave.

  “Wait. How many were there, you said?”

  “It was a male and a female who got away on the spaceship. The Nagas killed Lion Man. The second male who was with them was bitten by the Nagas, but he survived. He is in a coma and probably will not live through the night.”

  “Hmm… What is the name of the one who took the Isthmus?” For the first time, Shaitan is curious enough to ask about the name of his opponent. Normally it didn’t matter who they were, for they were all going to their deaths the same way. This time, though, a sixth sense compels him to ask the question.

  “Yudi.”

  “And he’s just seventeen?”

  Yaksha nods and raises his eyebrows, silently asking for permission to leave. Shaitan dismisses him. Am I paranoid or just getting old enough to worry about a young upstart pulling the world from under my feet?

  Ah, to be seventeen again. Just starting out on my conquest of the galaxy. To have that boundless energy on the battlefield and in bed.

  Why, I am jealous of the boy, of his youth, of everything he stands for! he realises in dismay. He resolves to find Yudi and put an end to his life.

  Yudi walks toward the temporary rooms Mimir has allocated him at the Academy of Half Lives. The chambers are in a different wing from where the current students of the Academy are staying. These were normally used by guests, and resided in the same wing as where Mimir and the other teachers lived.

  It’s been a long day, a longer week, and a real crazy month, he thinks, peeking into the room next to his through the connecting door between the two.

  Tiina’s sword is on the small study table next to the bed. The two rooms are identical in the arrangement of the furniture. The only difference is the placement of the windows. Yudi’s room looks down over the inner gardens of the Academy, while Tiina’s looks out over the city. He crosses the floor of her room and over to the window. The rooms are on the third floor of the five-storey building. The Temple of Arkana is not far off on the next hill, which is slightly higher than the one where the Academy is situated. The sun is setting behind the hill, the sky seems to be on fire, lighting up the Temple with hues of red and orange.

  Between the two hills, life on Arkana goes on as usual. Just below the hill, the slim Arkana River continues its sluggish flow through the city. Beyond that are rows of tall towers.

  All those humans and half lives going about their daily lives not realising that everything they know may change forever. He pushes away the morbid thought. Stay positive, Yudi, positive, as Tiina would say. There is little air traffic in the city, just a few commuter spaceships plying the airways between the two hills.

  As he absorbs the scene, his left hand toys with the Isthmus on his right wrist. He stops. Don’t get used to it; it’s just on loan. It feels strangely comforting to have its protective presence on his person, knowing that somewhere not very far off, Shaitan is probably pissed off with him.

  In fact, he is sure the most powerful half life in the universe is marching toward Arkana, plotting his downfall. He shivers slightly and puts it down to the rapidly cooling air outside.

  Coward! He wonders what he would do on coming face-to-face with Shaitan.

  Not cheered by that thought, he turns back to the table. Spotting Tiina’s sword, he remembers that he needs to ask Mimir to get him a new one. He needs a little time to practise with it, get used to it, too.

  Quite suddenly, Mimir walks into the chamber through the connecting door from his room. “Ah! There you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

  “Uh! So she’s…she’s—”

  “Your mother, you mean?”

  “Yeah! Yana. Guess she is resting in her rooms?”

  “Yes. She is not far off, just up the corridor to your left.”

  Yudi nods, discomforted at the thought of her being so close. For the first time, there are two women in his life, and right now they are placed on either side of him, with Tiina’s room to his right and Yana’s to his left.

  “Come, we need to pick out a new sword for you, right?”

  “How did you know?” he asks, and says in the same breath, “Okay, forget I asked.”

  “Come along, then. We can talk on the way.”

  Yudi hesitates, looking at Tiina’s sword. He very much wants to see her again, to reassure himself that she is fine. It isn’t every day a man declares his love for a woman, and it is important to look into her eyes and make sure she does not hate him for it.

  “I think you’ll find her where we are headed.”

  “Oh! Really?”

  “She went straight to the armoury to pick out more choice weapons to use against Shaitan.”

  “Ah! Revenge! Is that all anyone around me can think of?”

  Mimir puts his arm over Yudi’s shoulders, both calming him and leading him back through the connecting door and through his room. They turn left, away from the direction of Yana’s room, and walk toward the steps to take the bridge connecting this wing with the main Academy. Down the steps they trot, toward the armoury, which is located underground in the main wing, a level below all the classes. Yudi nods to the guards who are always posted there.

  They walk in to find Tiina examining one of the swords. It has a distinct long, thin curved blade ending in a sharp point. As he walks up to her, she throws it toward him. He has to spring to his left to catch it, and then he holds it with both hands, testing it for weight. The grip feels good and it is unusually long, even for a long sword almost five and a half feet from tip to handle.

  “Almost as good as my old one.”

  “Just longer and thinner, so it cuts better,” Tiina retorts.

  He holds up the sword handle, which is made of black iron. There is an engraving on it in a language he does not recognise. He peers at it and makes out what looks like the ancient devnagari script. In the middle of the hilt is a design in the shape of a turtle, its shell made of turquoise.

  “A turtle?”

  “A long time ago, the shell was a symbol of Heaven, and the square underside a symbol of Earth. Just like the turtle was an animal whose magic united Heaven and Earth, so will you unite the mortals and immortals, the humans and the aliens,” Mimir replies.

  “Heavy!” Yudi shakes his head. “Just because it has a design inlaid with turquoise to match the Isthmus—”

  “Yudi!”

  At Tiina’s warning tone, he subsides.

  He drops into a classic fighters’ stance and slashes the sword in front of him. “It feels good,” he concedes before he slips it through the empty scabbard around his waist and walks experimentally. “Good!”

  Another sword catches his eye; it is placed in a holder mounted on one of the walls near the far end. This time it is a classic talwar, a sabre like sword with a two-edged blade about two and a half feet long.

  “One of the best cutting swords ever devised, the Indian talwar,” says Mimir. “It has a broad and sharp edge.”

>   After walking up to it, Yudi runs his fingers over the sword.

  “See its distinctive hatchet point, wider near the tip than at the centre?”

  The design on the hilt is in the form a rising sun, painted bright yellow. He holds it up and tests it, cutting the air in front of him. “It’s surprisingly light.”

  Mimir nods. “It’s made of light-weight carbon steel, so unlike the more traditional swords, this one is a younger and faster cousin to the scimitar.”

  An inkling of mischief makes Yudi turn to Tiina and throw it in her direction, handle first. She neatly catches it and drops into a fighting stance; holding up the sword, she slashes the air in front of her in a parody of vengeance.

  When she stops, panting from the exertion, he claps. “Feel better?”

  “It’s strong.” She turns to Mimir. “Can I keep this one, too?”

  He nods. “You’ll need them both”

  The blade belongs with a scabbard made of wood covered in black leather and capped at either end with a thick brass throat as well as a leather sword belt She slides the sword into it. The talwar is almost as long as her legs, but falls short of touching the ground.

  As they walk out, Mimir places an arm on each of their shoulders.

  “Come.” He guides them upstairs, back into the Hall of the Great Mirrors. They walk to the end of the corridor.

  As they approach the double doors at the end, which open out onto the terrace, Yudi hears an unfamiliar noise. He angles his head, trying to make out what the commotion is about.

  Tiina notices his actions. “What is it?”

  “Can’t you hear it?”

  Mimir pushes open the doors and they walk out onto the viewing terrace. As if a dam has broken, a wall of sound rushes up to meet them. The noise rises and falls in troughs and crests; it is joined by another hum, like a thousand wings flapping. They peer up into the night sky, filled with massive birds.

  Gigantic creatures flap their wings and circle in the sky. There are about a dozen of them and the existing flock is joined by another group until the sky above is packed with their bodies.