Emergence (The Infernal Guard Book 1)

by SGD Singh

  Asha turned and threw her arms around Nidhan and Lexi, pulling them into a group hug, and the three of them stood like that, on the side of the road, until Lexi finally gasped, “Awkward Asha. Very awkward.” And she reluctantly let them go.

  † † †

  The next day was the Gatka tournament.

  Asha, Nidhan, and Lexi met the rest of the team at the circular arena, and after getting something to eat at one of the vendors, they found seats together in the stands. It would be another half hour until Nidhan and his team competed, but he didn't want to miss anything.

  “I'm curious,” said Nidhan. “When you said ‘professor’ yesterday, you meant…”

  Asha laughed. “Oh, that would be Lexi's dad luring only the best of the best into “retirement” from places like Oxford, Harvard, Yale, you know, to homeschool two kids.” She waved a hand airily.

  Lexi said through her nose in a British accent, “Professor Hickinbotham was from Cambridge, I do believe.”

  “I still can't believe you called Afzal a terrorist,” Asha said.

  Lexi took a bite of her burger and shrugged. “He was talking about what would drive normal people insane with terror, and my mind thought ‘people in thongs on Miami beach.’ I guess there really are things even more horrific.” She grinned at Asha who rolled her eyes.

  The junior competition finished and Nidhan went to get ready. It was sixteen to twenty-one singles sparring competition, knock out system. Asha and Lexi cheered for Nidhan's team, who Lexi admitted were “actually pretty good, yaar.”

  Two hours later, Nidhan's team had won four out of six competitions, making them the overall team winners.

  An hour later the rain started, canceling the ‘maratis on fire’ demonstration Asha had been looking forward to after sunset.

  Chapter 8

  The next morning Asha, Nidhan, and Lexi rode to the dump through pouring rain. They walked their mud-covered motorcycles to the tents, where they found the tall, skinny man they had seen talking to Ursala's mom. He directed them where to park behind a gate.

  “Through there,” he told them, pointing to the now-familiar dilapidated hovel which was now surrounded by a thick pool of mud. Lexi and Nidhan glanced at each other and covered their noses again as they waded through the sludge.

  When they reached the path through the trees, they saw a group of about fifteen teenagers gathered in the rain at the entrance to the bridge. Ursala's mom stood facing the group, her long white braid shining under a black umbrella.

  As the three of them approached, she turned and shouted over the downpour, “Okay! Looks like we're all here. Everybody follow me.” Then, touching the brick in the pillar with the back of her hand as before, she started briskly down the steps through the rain. Everybody followed, their clothes soaked through.

  Large raindrops showered down from the sky and the sound of water hitting the stone was almost deafening. Asha could hardly see the fort wall looming over them at the end of the bridge. The turquoise water surrounding the fort splashed cheerfully, swelling toward rain-heavy branches as millions of bright green leaves poured into it.

  They walked in soggy shoes over the smooth stone and through the elephant doors. The group turned left, and Asha found herself under the wide, carved-arches of the stone veranda. She saw the glass ceiling of the indoor garden was open to allow rain to shower down onto the plants.

  Coming to the foot of a wide, winding staircase, Ursala's mother closed her umbrella, ascended a few stairs in one quick jump, and turned to them.

  “All right, everybody, listen up! First of all,” she smiled broadly, spreading her arms. “Welcome to Infernal Guard Training.” Everyone straightened, and Asha could almost feel the excitement in the group. “My name is Uma.” Her smile vanished. “Training starts at four o'clock tomorrow afternoon—that's sixteen hundred hours, and goes until dawn, so make sure you rest well tonight, because it will be the last night you sleep. Breakfast will be at seventeen hundred hours, and—yes, Mr. Sandhu?”

  Nidhan was waving his arm around above everyone's heads. “Um, I was wondering about our families. I mean, I didn't tell anyone we were, like, leaving…”

  “Calm yourself, Sandhu,” Uma said. “Afzal takes care of all that. You will see your family on Saturday afternoon for the weekend.” She looked around at the group. “So, breakfast will be at seventeen hundred hours, at which time you will be given your training schedules.” She clapped. “Okay, everyone looks like they could use some dry clothes, and I advise you again to sleep as much as you can during the day, so let's go.”

  They followed Uma up the wide stone steps. Looking down through more carved arches, Asha admired the kitchen garden from above as she walked along the second floor veranda. It reminded her of a hotel, with doors about every thirty-five feet. Uma stopped at the first one, looked at a list, and called, “Wei Feng?”

  A large Asian boy with blue streaks in his hair stepped forward, and she gave him something. “Put this on your left ring finger. It's your door key. Now, hold it up to the door knob, fitting it… good.” She looked around at the rest of the group. “Your door will only open for you. If your ring is taken off, it will not work. Do not lose it. Do not remove it. Understood? Good. You will find everything you need in your room. Make yourselves comfortable, and be in the mess hall at five tomorrow evening. Okay!” She glanced at the next door, then down at the rings in her hand. “Ibha Nayar? You have your ring already.” Ibha gave Karan a thumbs-up, and disappeared into his room.

  They moved down the hall, Uma calling out names as the crowd grew thinner.

  “Mia Santos?” she said, and Asha and Lexi looked simultaneously at a short, pretty girl with curly blond hair cascading down her shoulders, and Asha wondered where the girl was from. There seemed to be kids from all over the world, and Asha realized why everything was in English.

  Finally, Uma said, “Asha Sandhu?” and Asha stepped forward. Her ‘key ring’ looked like it was made of brushed steel and had strange, geometrical symbols carved into it. When she slipped it onto her left ring finger it felt hot for a moment, and it seemed to adjust to her size. She held the ring up to a little brass plaque that read A. Sandhu, near the doorknob, as she had seen the others do. A soft click told her the door had unlocked.

  She looked over her shoulder at Lexi who smiled and winked, and before pushing the door open, she heard Uma call, “Lexi Hewitt?”

  The first thing Asha noticed when she entered her room was her harp sitting on the bed. Warm orange light from Moroccan table lamps cast fancy shadows across green walls and onto silk Persian rugs, making the room feel like it was evening, even though Asha knew it couldn't be much past ten in the morning. She crossed the room, looking for a window, and opened two heavy carved-wood doors. The sound of rain filled the room. A covered balcony looked out over ancient orchards and the inside of the fort wall.

  The room had a carved canopy bed with a large painting above it depicting two birds of prey in flight done in broad brush strokes in silver and gold paint. Asha opened a closet to find clothes hanging neatly inside. Dry clothes! They seemed to be in a variety of traditional South-East Asian styles, like some kind of Asian fusion uniform, made in cotton-silk and rayon-linen with piping. The high-collared shirts tied and hooked instead of buttoned, and came in a variety of colors and feminine long, flowing styles. A row of black canvas shoes sat neatly underneath them.

  Asha selected a blue top and grey pants, noticing A. Sandhu embroidered where a tag would normally be, and went into the bathroom. It was even more luxurious than her bathroom at the resort in Miami. Everything she would need was neatly put away in its place—toiletries, underwear (embroidered with my name!), flip-flops, and slippers. A huge tub stood in one corner under hanging Moroccan lamps. Asha noticed the tub had colorful buttons and knobs in it, and wondered what they did. There was a walk-in shower with a river-rock floor and numerous shower heads, surrounded by tropical plants under skylights, and a separate r
oom for the toilet. Next to the sink stood a large carved-wood (what else?) box that said laundry on a brass plaque.

  Asha decided that a hot shower sounded pretty good. Taking off her wet clothes, she threw them into the carved box, realizing too late that it opened into a dark void she hoped led to a laundry room.

  After a long and strangely relaxing shower, Asha looked around the room some more. On a carved table next to the balcony door, every kind of fruit she could imagine was laid out, along with nuts and bread, fresh juice in ice, and water in carved silver pitchers. Asha ate an apple as she dried her hair with a fluffy, monogrammed towel, realizing their next meal wouldn't be served for more than twelve hours.

  She read the titles of the books above the carved desk next to the bed: Unraveling the Mysteries of Atala: Revised Edition, Handbook of Weapons, a book the size of a giant dictionary that said Healing Foods. She was about to take down Underworlders Wars in Satya 8000 BC to Present, when someone knocked on the door.

  The second Asha turned the carved metal knob Lexi burst in, wearing black pants and a flowing red dress/jacket thing with black piping, her blonde hair dripping over her shoulders.

  “Oh my God, Asha!” she said, twirling. “Can you believe this place? I mean… wow! I feel like I'm… home, you know? Wait. Is that your harp?”

  “Yep.”

  “Let's go out on the balcony and play something.” She hit Asha's arm with a resounding smack, yelling, “God. I love it here!” as she skipped to the balcony doors, calling over her shoulder, “Your room's pretty much the same as mine, except my walls are a kind of buttery yellow instead of olive green. And the water has cloves in it.”

  Asha joined Lexi, carrying her harp, and after a brief, compulsory argument over what to play, Asha's hands began moving effortlessly over the strings, filling the balcony with a sound like two flamenco guitars playing in perfect synchronicity. Lexi grinned, recognizing one of her favorites, and soon began clapping along. And then she began singing. Her strong, clear voice carried across the orchard, mixing with the soothing sound of the rain.

  In about two minutes, they had an audience of everyone in the next four rooms on both sides.

  Each one felt they were finally home.

  Chapter 9

  At exactly four the following afternoon, the carved-wood shutters on Asha's windows and the carved-wood doors to her balcony opened, and all of the lights came on, dim at first, then becoming brighter and brighter still. The sound of chirping birds began to fill the room.

  Asha blinked, momentarily disoriented. After about ten seconds, she realized the chirping noise was becoming more of an angry chicken noise. A group of angry chickens. Asha got up, entering the bathroom just as the chickens were joined by loud roosters. The moment she turned on the bathroom light, the noise stopped.

  Nice alarm, she thought, laughing. What does it do if you ignore it for more than thirty seconds?

  Twenty minutes later, Asha joined five other teenagers (similarly dressed in Asian-Fusion Chic), following them down the stairs, and hoped someone knew where the mess hall was. Cutting across a stone path that wound through the kitchen garden to more carved arches on the other side, there it was.

  “Mess hall” is about the worst possible description for this room.

  It looked like a round, marble-floored five-star restaurant. Floor to ceiling windows looked out at a papaya orchard and the fort wall beyond. Stained glass windows depicting fruits and vegetables faced the kitchen garden on the opposite side. Plush booths, with warm inviting lighting lined the circular walls on two sides. Potted lemon trees were placed at intervals between the booths, and in the center of the room, four steps down, was a buffet the size of a tennis court, over which a massive skylight allowed the sun to shine down on a crystal chandelier the size of an SUV. It was shaped like a swooping raptor, its sparkling talons seeming to reach for the food, its glittering wings spreading across the whole ceiling.

  Lexi already sat with Nidhan, who looked handsome in navy with orange piping and a navy dumala. She saw Asha and waved her over.

  “I guess this is what's called healthy food,” Nidhan mumbled at his plate as Asha joined them.

  “He's just disappointed because nothing's fried.” Lexi rolled her eyes. “I was waiting for you. C'mon.”

  At the buffet they filled their plates, with Lexi wanting to try everything she didn't recognize, and rejoined Nidhan.

  “These beets in pistachio dressing are interesting,” Lexi said.

  Nidhan stared at her as if she were speaking an alien language.

  Asha took a bite of what looked like yams and said, “Ginger plum sauce. Interesting also. Lexi, try the mixed berries and sweet rice dumplings with… cardamom?”

  Nidhan took a sip of his water and choked. “Eaugh! It's clove water.”

  Lexi reached for her mug. “Oh, this isn't milk, it's… almond cinnamon? Yummy.”

  Finally, after refusing to even try most of the food, Nidhan found spicy potatoes with ginger, garlic, and cottage cheese on caramelized onions which he sort of liked. Asha went back to the buffet and got him a heaping plate of them, with mint-spinach yogurt on the side.

  Half an hour later, Uma and the tall, skinny man entered the mess hall.

  “Listen up, people!” she shouted, and all talk stopped. “Now that you've all eaten, follow me.” She turned and walked out.

  Everybody scrambled out of their booths and jogged after her. She moved with quick, efficient steps along the edge of the kitchen garden to a small door that led outside, her silver braid swaying. The rain had stopped, and the afternoon sun shone through the dripping papaya leaves.

  Uma motioned for everyone to gather around, put her hands on her hips, and said, “I hope you all slept well. This is Fanishwar.” She nodded toward the skinny man, who inclined his head slowly. “He and I will be two of your trainers for the next few months. Okay, first of all, we need to divide you up. This is the largest class we have had in… what was it, again?”

  Fanishwar said in a soft, low voice, “About two hundred years.”

  “Yes. Should make for quite a year, I think.” She and Fanishwar looked at each other and Asha thought their smiles looked grim. “Okay, let's see… there are twenty of you all together, so break up into two groups of seven and one group will have only three until the others join us.” She looked down at her watch and then back up at them. “That means now, people!”

  Asha stood with Nidhan and Lexi, and the three of them looked around. Karan joined them, pulling Himat —who was trying to join Ibha—along with him. Two Asian boys stood next to Nidhan, making their group seven.

  “Okay, now for your schedules…” she broke off, looking past them. “Okay you three, you're late. Get up here.”

  Asha watched Ursala move in his smooth, lumbering gait to the front of the group. He said, “It was Afzal and Yael's fault, Mom.”

  He was followed by a tall boy with shining, straight black hair worn in a pony tail on top of his head like a samurai, who moved so fluidly he seemed almost feline.

  Then Asha's stomach did a summersault. The third was the boy with the unruly hair who had looked at her from under the tree. She studied him as he walked with effortless grace to the front of the group and turned. And looked straight at her.

  His honey eyes gazed into hers from behind his long hair, and Asha felt herself blush, her heart pounding almost painfully in her chest. Can't… breathe…!

  An almost imperceptible smile flashed across his perfect features. Asha looked down at her hands, trying not to hyperventilate, struggling to hear Uma through the sound of rushing blood in her ears.

  Uma turned to Ursala. “Mehta?”

  “Yes, Mom?” he answered, running his hand through his blonde-streaked hair, with a mischievous smirk.

  “Now that you are seventeen, you will call me Ma'am or Uma during training hours.” She looked back at the group and began pacing. “That goes for the rest of you, too. I know it's not easy, especial
ly for all you South Asians, but you will each call your instructors by their names—first or last, whichever they prefer. You will call me Uma. Because that is my name, understood? No ‘Auntie, Tía, Guma, Maasy, Bhoa, Chachi, Dadi.’” She nodded at Fanishwar. “You will call Fanishwar… Fanishwar. Not ‘Uncle, Tío, Chacha, Shushu, Phuparh, or Maasar’.” She stopped pacing and looked at them, her expression stern. “It could mean the difference between life or death someday for those of you who make active duty, so start getting used to it now. In between training hours you may call us ‘sir’ or ’ma'am‘ if you have to.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Ursala, trying not to laugh.

  Uma stopped and turned to face him. “That's enough of that. Unless you want me to call you what your grandmother likes to call you for the rest of your training year, and in front of all your nice new friends here.”

  Ursala stood straight, looking suddenly serious and a little sick.

  “I didn't think so,” Uma said.

  “Okay!” She clapped her hands and resumed her pacing. Asha kept her eyes glued on Uma. “This morning you will all familiarize yourselves with the facilities and various training arenas. This is Ursala Mehta, Kelakha Shukla, and Aquila Desai.” She pointed at the three boys in turn. “They will show you around and answer any questions.” She handed papers to each boy. “After lunch, you three will join the smallest group. I want everyone ready to start training by twenty-two hundred hours, and no excuses. Shukla, you're with this group.” She pointed to Asha's group.

  Asha felt a stab of disappointment. Her eyes shot involuntarily to the boy she now knew was Aquila Desai, only to find him looking straight at her, a hint of a smile on his perfect lips. It was as if he knew what she was thinking. Asha felt herself blush again, dammit, and looked quickly down.

  “Desai. You're with the second group here, and Ursala take the last group. And Mehta. When you think about making things up to frighten or otherwise intimidate your fellow classmates for your own entertainment, remember what I said about Grandma.” She looked pointedly at him until he said, “Yes ma'am.”