Ash Mistry and the Savage Fortress

by Sarwat Chadda

  The spiders formed a lump on the ground ahead of them. The shape rippled and grew. The tangle of limbs melded together to create a pair of slim arms. They were dense at first with spiny black hairs, but these faded as the limbs took on human dimensions.

  The spiders were a solid mass now, and Ash stepped back as the last of them merged into the body and Makdi stood up. Her face was broken by her eight big round eyes, and instead of a jaw she had a pair of hairy mandibles, each ending with a venomous fang. Her body was now fat, round and swollen. A pair of human arms stuck out at her shoulders, but jutting from her ribs were four long, bony spider legs, two on each side, all spiky with coarse black hair. They ended in stubby human fingers.

  Ash spun round, alerted by a clicking sound. Climbing down the walls was a man – a sort of man. His upper torso was covered in black armour, heavy plates of knobbly skin, and he had a pair of pincers instead of arms. His lower abdomen carried three pairs of insectoid legs, and arching above his back was a huge scorpion’s tail, a bulbous sting mounted on its tip. Still other creatures crept across the courtyard towards them, men and women with tails and twitching rodent noses and whiskers.

  A match was struck, and a figure came alive in the glow of its small, weak flame. The match moved to a lamp – Ash heard the scrape of glass as the lamp lid was raised. The flame suddenly bloomed.

  “Parvati, my dear. How kind of you to visit.”

  Savage leaned against one of the elephant statues and put the lamp on its head. Jackie was a few paces behind him.

  “Have you missed me?” asked Savage.

  “Still not dead?” Parvati’s fangs were long and wet with poison. “Come here and let me fix that.”

  Ash stepped back, but where could they go?

  Jackie positioned herself in front of her master and the spider-woman stepped closer. With them both protecting Savage and at least another dozen rakshasas around them, Ash and Parvati had run out of options.

  “Just give me the girl and I’ll let you live,” said Parvati.

  “Parvati, you should be here, beside me,” Savage said. “Like in the good old days.”

  “You mean back when you betrayed me? No, thanks.”

  Ash and Parvati retreated towards the corridor and the water gate. The other demons formed a semicircle round them, but no one made the first move. Ash remembered that Parvati’s venom was lethal to all living things – including demons.

  The rakshasas’ circle tightened round them like a noose.

  “You can’t take us all,” growled Jackie. “Not alone.”

  “She isn’t alone,” said a voice from behind Ash.

  Rishi stepped up beside him and Ash could have wept with relief. The sadhu had his staff ready, sweeping it slowly in a wide arc. The rakshasas shuffled back. The air about the old man hummed, just like it had when he’d flattened the Humvee.

  “What a gallant party,” said Savage. “Cowardly boy, self-hating demon princess, and meddling old fool. The years have not been kind to you, Rishi.”

  “Have you looked in a mirror lately?” replied the sadhu. His eyes never shifted from the horde before them, but he spoke to Ash. “To the boat, boy.”

  “I’m not leaving without my sister.”

  “Then we’re not leaving at all,” said Parvati. “In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re outnumbered twenty to two.”

  “I can fight too,” Ash snapped. Hadn’t he spent the few weeks learning? He’d help them.

  Parvati snorted. “Er, no, you really can’t.”

  “Enough!” Savage slammed his cane hard on the stone, the sharp crack bringing his demons to attention. He pointed the tiger head straight at Ash. “Just kill them,” he said.

  “Lucky!” Ash shouted. The harem was just there! If he could just get to it, he’d save his sister. “Lucky!”

  Ash’s feet were whipped out from under him. He tried to get up, but thick, white cobwebs bound his legs. Makdi leaped through the air and he stared in frozen terror at her big, black eyes and the pair of fangs jutting out of her jaw. He tore at the webbing round his feet but thick clumps stuck to his fingers. He wasn’t going to make it.

  Then Parvati collided with the spider-woman in a blur of scales and long, spindly legs.

  Rishi, his staff in one hand, dragged Ash up. His eyes shone blue, as if minute lightning storms raged within the pupils. All around him the air shivered and electric arcs ran over his skin, sending tingling waves through Ash.

  Makdi screamed. Her arms and her too many limbs shook violently.

  “Come on, boy!” Rishi shoved him down the corridor towards the water.

  “I’ve got to get Lucky!”

  Rishi charged into the fray, swinging and jabbing with his staff. Wherever he struck, demons were hurled backwards. But as each one fell, two more entered the battle.

  Parvati pushed Makdi off her and stood up. She smiled at Rishi.

  Then she collapsed.

  Ash saw a pair of puncture wounds on her arm, the skin around them already turning black. The spider-woman and Parvati must have bitten each other at exactly the same moment and poisoned each other. The spider-woman was clearly dead while Parvati lay there, pale and twitching. Alive, but only just.

  Ash charged forward, but was blocked by one of the scorpion-men. He dived sideways just as the sting slammed into the ground where he’d been standing.

  “The boat! Get to the boat!” shouted Rishi.

  There was no way Ash could abandon Lucky, but as he looked around the battle, he knew they only had seconds. Parvati was unconscious and Rishi’s blows lacked the power and the electric speed they’d had earlier. His strength was fading fast. The rakshasas sensed victory.

  A hero would fight on. Deep down, Ash knew he should be prepared to fight and die if necessary to save his sister and friends, but maybe he’d be more use to Lucky if he stayed alive. That way he’d be able to come back and rescue her later.

  He wrapped his arms around Parvati and lifted her up, then ran down the corridor as Rishi swung his stick wildly, forcing the demons back.

  Ash burst through the water gate and suddenly he was splashing knee-deep in the river. A single shallow-bellied boat bobbed nearby, tied to a post, and Ash hauled Parvati into it. It had to be Rishi’s; he could see the old man’s shoulder bag lying under the seat. Ash’s hand slipped the knot and his feet dug into the sandy floor of the river as, heart pounding, he pushed the boat out.

  Parvati moaned. Semi-delirious, she lay in the boat, cradling her wounded arm. Ash gave another heave and the current took hold. He dragged himself up and grabbed an oar. Then he started half paddling half pushing the boat further out.

  Rishi bounded towards him, hopping like a spritely monkey through the water. “Don’t wait for me, boy!”

  Figures paused at the water gate, now a good fifty or sixty metres behind them. A few waded into the water up to their knees, but then stopped, the distance between them and the boat too great.

  They’re not chasing us. They’re letting us go.

  The boat scraped on a submerged sandbank in the middle of the river. Chest heaving and limbs aching, Ash dropped the oar and checked Parvati. Her breath was shallow but steady.

  Lights lined the upper battlements of the Savage Fortress. One by one the rows of torches came to life. The lights shone on the water’s surface too, spots of gold trembling the waves. Still no one gave chase.

  Ash watched Rishi swim towards him, not so easy with his stick in one hand. The wake formed a wide triangle behind the old holy man, the small waves bouncing to form a complex pattern on the otherwise still surface as a second V-shaped ripple overlapped it.

  A second?

  Ash glanced up at the fortress. Why was no one chasing them?

  The waves rocked up and down roughly now, increasingly disturbed.

  Ash put his hands on the oar. “Hurry up, Rishi!” he shouted.

  The old man shook the water from his ears. He waved at Ash.

  Ash leapt into t
he water, gripping the oar in both hands like a baseball bat.

  “Rishi!”

  Too late. The water trembled and Rishi went under.

  ishi!”

  Ash searched for some movement, but there was nothing. He waded towards where he’d seen Rishi go under. Maybe if he—

  Then an immense demonic crocodile, almost five metres long, leaped high out of the water. Rishi, his arm trapped in the monster’s jaws, screamed. For a second they hung suspended, poised in the air, almost as though the crocodile was balancing on the tip of his tail. Then it languidly pivoted, twisting its head, and slammed down flat into the water.

  The river foamed and churned, but Ash couldn’t see anything.

  “Rishi!”

  After what seemed like an eternity Rishi burst out, gasping. He blinked as he saw Ash. An inarticulate cry rose from his throat, which gave way to spasmodic coughing.

  Ash tossed the oar aside and pulled the old man towards the sandbank. It was only when he was back at the boat that he was able to take a good look at the sadhu.

  Mayar had torn off Rishi’s arm. Blood poured from the holy man’s ruined shoulder and teeth marks punctured his chest, each wide and deep. His torso was awash with scarlet.

  Ash cradled the spindly old man against him. Each time Rishi breathed, red bubbles frothed across his chest.

  “I’ll save you,” said Ash. He’d get Rishi in the boat. Somehow he’d save him. Somehow.

  “Turning into a hero, are we?” muttered Rishi. “You always do. Sooner or later.”

  Ash squeezed the old man tightly. If he hung on, then so would Rishi. “I’ll save you,” he said again. The words were useless, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  “Don’t be afraid, Ashoka.” Blood ran from Rishi’s lips. “It’s only death.”

  Then his chest sank and did not rise again. Rishi’s eyes closed and his body relaxed as his spirit fled to the lands of the dead.

  “You’ll be back. You’ll be back,” whispered Ash.

  Mayar’s head broke the lapping ripples. Ash watched as the long snout sank back into his face. The neck shrank and the demon rose out of the water, walking as a human on to the sandbank.

  That was why they hadn’t been chased. Mayar had been waiting in the river all along.

  Cold hard rage gripped Ash’s chest as tight as nails digging into his heart. His blood pounded like a massive drum, filling his head with pain. He hugged Rishi against him, trying to contain the agony shooting through his body. He gritted his teeth but couldn’t hold in the scream.

  What was happening to him? He’d felt like this when Jat had died, only this was a thousand times stronger.

  He bit down so hard he thought his teeth would shatter at any second. Then a final shock wave exploded along his spine, burning every nerve. Ash’s eyes snapped open just as Mayar joined him on the sandbank.

  “Jat was my best friend,” growled Mayar. “This won’t be quick.”

  Ash let Rishi slip to the ground as he stood up. The world seemed filled with floating lights, like a million fireflies. He swayed on unsteady feet, waiting for the sprinkling lights to disappear, but they didn’t. Instead they settled like glowing dust over Mayar.

  What was he seeing? The lights coalesced at different points. Some of them were faint and barely visible, others shining brightly. They seemed to change location second by second as Mayar moved. It was like a sparkling map covered the rakshasa. Could anyone else see this, or only Ash?

  Ash stumbled back until he hit the boat and had nowhere left to run.

  Mayar grabbed him by the throat.

  “This is going to hurt. Scream as much as you want,” said the demon. “I like it when they scream.”

  Ash made his left hand into a fist. He couldn’t take his eyes off the spot glowing halfway along Mayar’s jaw. The brightness was almost blinding.

  “What are you looking at, boy?” snarled Mayar.

  Ash swung his fist into that glowing point on the jaw. Mayar screamed as bone, teeth and blood erupted from his mouth, and Ash fell to the ground as red spittle sprayed his face.

  Ash stared at his clenched fist. Mayar’s jawbone had shattered like a dry, rotten twig. He gazed at Mayar, at the confusion in the demon’s eyes. Mayar held his broken jaw with one hand. Then he gave a gargling cry of rage and swiped his free arm at Ash’s neck. Each finger ended with a long curved claw, each one easily capable of tearing open Ash’s windpipe.

  But Ash jabbed his fingers into another glowing spot, this time by Mayar’s elbow. Mayar cried out again as his arm went limp. It dropped to his side, fingers twitching and useless. He backed away, terrified.

  Ash advanced, watching the ever-evolving pattern of lights glide over Mayar’s body. Energy roared along Ash’s veins, boiling the blood within and filling him with fire. His heartbeat echoed through him, each beat sending a brand-new surge of strength to his limbs and muscles.

  The fire consumed him and he knew that he wanted to let it all out. He wanted to rip Mayar to pieces. He wanted to wash himself in the rakshasa’s blood.

  Ash threw back his head and roared, pouring out all his rage and anger at the world. The clouds shook with fear.

  Mayar hurled himself into the water and dived under. Ash glared at the river, scanning the surface for movement.

  He would not be denied. He wanted to kill.

  A moan from behind made him look around.

  A rakshasa lay in the boat.

  Her body sparkled with light. So many ways to break her. So many ways to kill her. Kill the rakshasa, Parvati.

  Ash faltered. Her name was Parvati.

  Parvati was his friend. She’d saved him. He didn’t want to kill her.

  Ash slumped into the water, and the cold wetness against his face brought him to his senses.

  Ash ached, suddenly weak. He watched the ripple of water head towards the Savage Fortress and saw Mayar stumble out, dragged by the other rakshasas.

  Ash’s gaze rose towards the battlements. Savage stood up on the wall; there was no mistaking him. A small child was beside him. Lucky.

  Savage raised his right hand.

  Even from this distance it shone, a bright golden light shimmering off its polished metal surface.

  Savage had the aastra.

  he waters lapped against the boat, rocking it gently like a baby’s cradle. Ash, exhausted, slumped down beside the unconscious Parvati. Her skin was cold.

  He watched the Ganges take the old man. Rishi’s hair spread out over the water’s surface as he floated for a moment before his body turned sideways and disappeared.

  They drifted off the sandbank, carried by the slow current, carried away from Varanasi.

  Ash gazed across the river at the Savage Fortress. Leaden weariness dragged at his heart.

  “Lucky…”

  He’d failed.

  The clouds loomed over them, dark grey and heavy. Is this what a coffin feels like? he wondered.

  Ash closed his eyes.

  Sunlight – warm, bright and new – woke Ash. The boat was still. He got up and saw they’d drifted into the bank alongside some small dried-out fields. A cluster of huts stood in a circle about a mile away. Smoke rose from a campfire to fade into the blue sky.

  Parvati murmured. She was in her complete human form, no scales at all. The wound on her arm had faded to a small dark blemish, and while she looked pale, she didn’t have that sallow, sick tinge to her skin any more.

  Her eyes snapped open. The irises, wide and almost covering her pupils, pulsed, then narrowed and settled into a pair of pencil-thin slits.

  “Rishi?”

  Ash shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

  Parvati sat up and inspected her arm. “What happened?”

  “Mayar got him. And Savage got the aastra.”

  She gazed at the water rippling against the boat. “Rishi’s been dead before,” she said quietly. She looked up abruptly. “Do you have any good news?”

  “I kno
w the aastra is Kali’s.”

  “A Kali-aastra? That doesn’t fall into the ‘good news’ category.”

  Ash began to explain what had happened. He told her about breakfast with Savage and the Englishman’s belief that Ravana was ready to be freed from his prison.

  “But how?” asked Parvati. “Ravana was destroyed. I was there.”

  “Rama used a Vishnu-aastra to kill Ravana. But he knew Ravana would be reborn, so he imprisoned his body within the Iron Gates,” said Ash. “Savage intends to use the Kali-aastra to smash the gates open and let Ravana’s spirit reunite with his body.”

  Parvati went pale as he talked and, just for a moment, he saw her tremble. He had thought she wasn’t scared of anything.

  He described getting her on the boat and she asked him a few things, but then he realised something truly important.

  The cobra scales that had covered her like armour had disappeared.

  Totally disappeared.

  He tried to keep his mind on the story and his gaze on her face, but, oh God, he couldn’t help it, millimetre by millimetre his gaze fell. Ash could just make out the faintest outline of scales beneath her skin, down her neck, on her shoulders…

  “Look at me when I’m talking to you,” snapped Parvati.

  “I am looking at you.” Ash bit his tongue, but a moment too late. “Er, I didn’t mean it like that. I meant, sorry, what were you saying?”

  “Give me your shirt before your eyes pop out.”

  Ash handed it over and heard Parvati muttering about ‘hormonal teenage boys’ as she slipped it over her head. It fitted her like a short dress – OK for now. At least he could focus on what she was saying.

  “How did we get away?” Parvati asked.

  Ash looked at his hand – the hand that had shattered Mayar’s jaw.

  “I don’t know,” he said. That was the honest truth. “I really don’t know.”

  Had the Kali-aastra given him all that power? But Savage had the arrowhead now. Could it have somehow transferred power over that distance, from the fortress to Ash down in the river? He scratched his hand, confused. There was so much he didn’t understand.

  “What’s that?” asked Parvati, pointing to something in the bottom of the boat.