Sarwat Chadda: Ash Mistry and the City of Death

“Where in Kolkata?” asked Parvati.

“Two…”

“Somewhere out of the Savage Foundation. That’s all I know, I swear!”

The doorbell below rang.

“Well?” asked Khan. “Let’s kill him and be gone.”

“No, you promised,” muttered Monty. “Please, I won’t tell them anything.”

Parvati sighed. “Sorry, but we know that’s not true, don’t we?” She looked at Ash. “Do you want to do it or shall I?”

Kali destroyed rakshasas. It was her holy duty. It was Ash’s duty to serve her. Killing this rat demon was holy work. Ash would be cleansing the world. The desire to kill was like a fever, filling his head and heart. The black, swirling darkness urged him to do it: it struggled to take control of his body, to take over and then destroy.

But what would he become if he let that happen?

“No,” Ash said. He wasn’t going to kill anyone, even a demon, just because it was convenient. “Leave him.” It was hard to make his fingers release their grip, but he did it. Suddenly he felt exhausted, soul-weary. It had taken all his willpower to hold the darkness back, and the effort had drained him down to almost nothing. His senses dulled and he could feel the superhuman strength fading. The Kali-aastra was withdrawing its power. He turned and tapped Monty’s nose to get the rat’s attention. “But see those other rakshasas outside, the ones Savage sent? Well, I’ve met Jackie before, and she’ll be disappointed you don’t have the Koh-i-noor waiting for her. If I were you, I’d find a hole and bury myself deep down inside it for a year or two.”

The doorbell rang again, and this time it was followed by banging. Monty chewed his lip, glancing at the door and then at them. Then he threw off his hat and wriggled. Limbs shrank and hair burst out over his skin in random patches. His nose stretched and whiskers sprouted on either side of the pink flesh. A moment later a rat stood on the dirty carpet. It stuck out its tongue and blew a faint, squeaking raspberry, then darted through a gap in the baseboard.

Khan leaped out of the bathroom window and hit the ground easily and silently. Jackie and Savage’s other demons had disappeared into the building. Parvati somersaulted through the air, bouncing on the opposite wall before landing without stirring even the discarded paper. Ash slid down the drainpipe and joined them, and a few minutes later they were out on Charing Cross Road.

Parvati took Khan’s arm. “We’ll double back now. See if we can follow Jackie and her cronies back to wherever they’re based.”

“I’ll come,” said Ash. Seeing the jackal rakshasa in the flesh had brought it all back, all the rage and pain of what had happened in India and how she’d killed his uncle and aunt and threatened Lucky. He wanted to deal with her.

Parvati shook her head. “No. She doesn’t know you’re here, Ash; let’s keep it that way. She could lead us to Savage, and starting a fight will accomplish nothing. This isn’t just about you.”

Ash understood. There was Lucks, his parents. He didn’t want them getting involved. Keeping them safe was what mattered.

Khan backed away, leaving them alone. Parvati patted the lump of diamond in her pocket. “We did good, Ash.”

“You’re going already?”

“The sooner I get the Koh-i-noor away, the better.” She kissed him on the cheek lightly. It was barely a touch and over almost immediately.

It didn’t feel like enough.

“Parvati…”

She smiled. “It was good seeing you again, Ash. You look after yourself.”

She crossed the road to where Khan waited, and then the two of them disappeared into the London fog.

“ here on earth have you been?” asked Josh as Ash came through the park gates. “It’s almost nine.”

“You’re lucky I’m here at all.” Ash waved over his shoulder. “Errands to run.” He’d planned to catch the bus back, but some accident due to the fog had the traffic at a standstill. He’d ended up walking all the way.

“Well, it’s been an epic waste of time so far,” muttered Akbar through the scarf that covered half his face. He stood, cold, shivering and miserable in his duffel coat. “We’re only here because of you, you know that?”

An impenetrable fog now covered London, hiding everything beyond three metres away. It was like being lost in a world of ghosts.

Despite the weather, the fireworks display was going ahead. There was a whoosh in the darkness and some muffled burst from somewhere, but all you could see was dense mist, no colours and certainly no firework explosions.

“Is anyone else here?” Ash asked.

Josh shrugged. “This is the most unbanging Guy Fawkes Night ever.”

Small groups of spectators drifted in and out of the mists. Most were families with small kids waving their sparklers, but Ash recognised a few people from school.

“What’s that?” He could hear something, a distant, dull roar.

“Up ahead.” Josh pointed.

Through the haze of mist and smoke moved a blurry orange glow. As Ash came towards it, flickers of raw heat cut through the icy night air. Gloomy silhouettes began to solidify around them, ghosts emerging from the mist.

Ash stopped at the rope barrier.

The bonfire raged against the smothering fog. A tower of wooden debris blazed, over fifteen metres tall, the flames intense and rising twice as high. Even at the perimeter ring, a good eleven or twelve metres from the bonfire, the heat made Ash’s skin flushed and sweaty. Monstrous clouds of smoke rose into the sky and millions of tiny, glowing embers swirled and danced like hellish imps in the fire-born draughts.

But the light the bonfire cast out did not extend much further than the rope ring. Beyond, the darkness ruled, crowding around the living fire, waiting for the flames to go out so it could claim everything for itself. Oblivion.

“Did you… did you see Gemma around?” Ash said.

Josh slapped his forehead. “I knew there was something else. Yeah, she’s been looking for you all evening.”

“Where is she?”

“No idea. Could have gone home by now.”

Great. He didn’t have her mobile phone number.

There was another pointless, invisible explosion as some fireworks went off. The crowd gave an ironic, half-hearted cheer.

A cold wind rippled through and the flames swayed. The radiant heat warmed only what faced the flames; Ash’s back felt the chill.

“I’m getting a burger – want one?” asked Josh.

“I’ll come with you,” said Ash.

Dulwich Park had a small food hall attached to it, and tonight there would be burgers, baked potatoes and drinks sold to the shivering crowd. As they made their way closer to the hall, the number of people increased. It seemed everyone was more interested in the food and drink than the fireworks display.

Ash smelled the crisp odour of burning meat and heard the sizzle of onions, his mouth watering. He weaved his way through the crowd, checking his pockets for cash.

“Hiya, Ash.”

Gemma grinned at him, stamping her feet to keep some circulation going. Her hands were stuffed deep into her jeans pockets and she had pulled her bobble hat low over her eyebrows.

She was here. Ash smiled back. The world seemed a brighter, happier place.

“Hi,” he said. “You look frozen.”

“It’s not too bad by the bonfire, but this jumper’s about as thick as tissue.” She gestured to the hall. “Jack’s gone off to get some food.”

“So, Jack’s still around.” Now the world seemed much darker and colder.