Eliot Pattison - The Skull Mantra

With shaking hands, Shan stacked the photos and put them in his pocket.

Sungpo was speaking to Je again. A hoarse wheezing laugh came from the old man. "He says to tell someone we'll need to begin soon," Je explained. Begin? Then Shan understood. Begin the rites for passage of his soul. The old man's eyes wandered toward the cell door and lingered uncertainly upon the figure of Yeshe, then moved languidly on. "When you let it drift sometimes it finds its own way," he murmured, as if a thought had inadvertently found its way to his tongue.

Jigme was at the bars, holding on as though he might otherwise be carried away. "We could ask him to come down from the mountain," he whispered to Shan. "For such a holy man, maybe he would help."

"A healer?" Yeshe asked. "Did you find a healer?"

"He's hungry, that horse-headed one," Jigme said with a hollow tone. "Okay, let him eat me. I don't care. Maybe then you can talk with him, maybe then he'll help you save Sungpo."

Instantly Shan was at his side, pulling him from the bars. "You found him? You found Tamdin?"

There was a cave, Jigme finally confessed, where the demon slept. "The hand of the demon was gone, but the old man we brought from the market knew the prayers well. Only villagers and herders came at first. But then one came from above, stepping down the mountain like a goat, on a path no wider than a man's hand. He had left the prayer against dogbite, recited a few mantras, and climbed back up the slope. Even without the old man I would have known it was Tamdin's servant. Because of them."

"Them?"

"The vultures. They followed like they were tame, as if they knew he would provide fresh meat for them."

Jigme and Sergeant Feng had followed Tamdin's servant up the treacherous path for over a mile up the slope, into a blind gorge near the top. "When he left with an empty water jug I went in. But Tamdin was in wolf demon form." Jigme pulled up his pant leg to show a jagged, weeping wound on his calf, outlined by a row of punctures. "Hot damn, I run like hell."

"You could find him again?" Yeshe asked excitedly.

Jigme nodded slowly, looking at Je. "Let him eat me, as an offering. I don't care. Sungpo will find me in the next life. Fill his belly, then maybe Tamdin will speak with you. You ask him to come down to the valley, for Rinpoche. But there may not be time. Up that mountain, it is far above the American's shrine. Hard climb."

"No," Shan interjected. "There is an easier way."

"How could you know?" Yeshe asked.

"Because I know where Tamdin's servant came from."

The four men moved over the rocks silently, lost in thought and fear, the wind deviling them, the high altitude sapping their strength. They had found the path where Shan had expected, parallel to the Dragon's Throat, intersecting the road behind the rock formations near the old suspension bridge. It rose precipitously up the North Claw for nearly a mile, then struck a course along the crest of the long ridge.

Jigme, who had insisted on the lead, suddenly dropped to his knees and pointed ahead on the path. "Him!" he gasped. "The servant!"

Feng's hand slipped to his holster. "No," Shan said. "He will do us no harm. Let me speak to him alone."

Shan was sitting alone in a group of boulders, the others hidden on the far side, when the man approached. He was carrying a canvas sack over his shoulder and wore two gau around his neck. He stopped abruptly and squinted at Shan.

"Hello, Chinese."

"I am glad it is you, Merak."

The ragyapa headman nodded as if he understood. "There never was anyone else asking for the charms, was there?" Shan asked.

Merak set the bag down and leaned against the rock beside Shan, his hand on his gau. He seemed relieved to have been discovered. "But who would have believed it? It's not often a ragyapa is able to do great things."

"What is it you do for him?"

"A demon needs much rest. He must be protected while he rests. I was afraid that if I could find him, others might, too."

"How long has it been?"

"That bastard Xong De. Director of Mines. He refused to let my nephew work in the American mine."

"Luntok," Shan said with sudden understanding. "Your nephew is Luntok? The one who climbs mountains."

"Yes," Merak said with obvious pride. "He is going to climb Chomolungma, you know."

"But how did he get his job if he was rejected?"

"Xong died. People say Tamdin did it. I believed it, because afterward Tibetans were given jobs at the mine. Permission for Luntok was quickly granted. I wanted to offer tribute to Tamdin. I knew he lived in the high mountains. I kept watching. Then, when Luntok found his hand I knew where to look. I know our vultures. They seek their food on the high ridges. That bird dropped the hand near the Americans. After he picked it up he would quickly realize it was not his usual food. He would have dropped it soon after finding it."

"Which meant Tamdin was in a high cave near the Americans."

Merak nodded vigorously. "At first I was afraid I had disturbed him. I touched his golden skin. But when I felt his power I realized what I had done, and ran away."

"But you went back with charms of forgiveness. And you have been helping ever since."

"He was hurt bad, I could see that. Lost his hand fighting that last devil. So many battles he has had. I returned his hand, and brought the charms, but I knew he needed rest. I brought them there, to protect him while he recovered from his wounds. I have been taking food and water ever since."

"Food and water?"

"I know the difference between demons and creatures of flesh and blood."

"Why would you need prayers to protect you from them, if they are yours?"

"Not mine. I bought them from a herder. Now they belong to Tamdin."

Shan studied him with a vague but rising sense of dread. "Do you wish to come with me?"

Merak picked up his bag and shook his head heavily. "I know you have to do this, Chinese. People tell about how you did the summoning. You cannot turn back."

Pointing down the path Merak explained to Shan how the entrance was hidden from view, half a mile away inside a small gorge, then shook his head again before leaving. "I don't want to be there when a Chinese tries to enter. You should wish to come with me. I liked you."

When they found the gorge Shan studied his companions. "Sergeant," he said, with a gesture toward Jigme. "His leg is bleeding again. You need to bandage it." Shan ripped off the tail of his shirt and handed it to Feng.

Sergeant Feng, staring nervously into the gorge, seemed not to hear at first. Then he turned and frowned. "You think I'm scared of the demon?"

"No. I think his leg is bleeding."

Feng grunted, and guided Jigme to a flat rock at the mouth of the gorge. Shan and Yeshe followed the gorge as it narrowed into a small passage, then abruptly opened into a clearing.

The instant Shan stepped into it, the beasts attacked.

The creatures were eating the food left by Merak, but instantly sprang up at the sight of Shan, teeth bared, growling viciously. They were the biggest dogs he had ever seen, black Tibetan mastiffs, bred to defend the herds against wolves and leopards, but much larger than the dogs Shan had seen in Kham. If they had not been tied they would have torn him apart. When Rebecca Fowler had conducted the ceremony at the foot of the mountain, something had howled in the night.

Beyond the dogs was the cave.

Suddenly, like a cold whisper over his shoulder, he remembered the words of Khorda's fortuneteller. Bow before black dogs, she had warned. He dropped to his knees, then prostrated himself. The dogs quieted, curious. There was movement beside him. Yeshe was there, speaking in a low, comforting tone, holding his rosary for the animals to see. Incredibly, the dogs lowered their heads and slowly moved forward. Yeshe began to stroke them, reciting a prayer. Shan thought of Khartok gompa again. The dogs were the incarnations of failed priests.