Tantrics Of Old Read online

  ‘They don’t let people in? But what about the train?’

  ‘We left the city,’ Adri said. ‘I daresay you will find measures stricter when you try to get back in. Both of you are already citizens so you’ll be let in, don’t worry.’

  ‘I thought New Kolkata was open to everyone!’ Gray said.

  ‘Yes, that’s what they make it sound like.’

  ‘But-but didn’t you work for MYTH?’ Maya asked.

  Smith swore loudly.

  ‘Ah,’ Adri spoke.

  ‘I would never work for those bloody bureaucrats!’ Smith cursed. ‘Don’t you know the Defenders never worked for MYTH? They worked for the city!’

  ‘Victor Sen was one—’

  ‘My father left MYTH when he was a Defender,’ Adri cut in. ‘He was a rogue Necromancer for a long while and MYTH hunted him for years. It was much later that he came back to MYTH and the government applauded him, making him into what you know him as. Maya, you have to understand that people here in Old Kolkata do not take kindly to MYTH; or for that matter, knowing that you hail from New Kolkata. Most powerful figures here are anti-establishment, and it’s best you remember that from now.’

  ‘But why this antagonism? What has MYTH done?’ Gray asked. ‘Hasn’t it protected people inside New Kolkata?’

  ‘No,’ Smith said. ‘Don’t flatter yourself, son. MYTH needs your taxes, your services. New Kolkata was built for a reason, and now the territory wars are happening for the same reason. As is the case with Old Kolkata. MYTH is looking for something.’

  ‘For what?’ Maya asked, hanging on to every word.

  ‘We don’t know,’ Smith replied darkly. ‘But there have been several instances to prove that MYTH works on an agenda which goes beyond the obvious people-need-saving and evil-needs-punishment mask. The other governments keep their peace. I wouldn’t see the Faces of Moonless Dilhi, the Sea Lords of Frozen Bombay or even the Warlocks of Western Ahmedabad trying to interfere with MYTH’s work.’

  ‘What’s happening with the territory wars these days, Smith?’ Adri asked. ‘We’ll be heading in that direction soon, I think.’

  Smith raised an eyebrow. You’ve got one hell of an explanation pending. Adri acknowledged him with the tiniest of nods.

  ‘You know how it is,’ Smith replied at last. ‘Ba’al’s troops are powerful, and MYTH’s troops are numerous. The stalemate continues.’

  Demon Commander Ba’al. Considered by many to be one of the strongest and cleverest, Maya remembered. A dangerous combination. She’d read a lot about him in her initial studies. She remembered Adri’s diary, where even Victor Sen seemed to be in awe of Ba’al’s power. It was obviously Ba’al who would be the leader of the Free Demons, none of the others really had the leadership to keep such a war running for ten years.

  ‘What about the Coven?’ Adri asked.

  ‘Bloody hellspawn,’ Smith swore. ‘They’re still around with their whole swooping act, coming in and interrupting battles, I’ve heard. The usual guerrilla tactics, obviously, those witches can’t ever face a Demon, or an Angel head on.’

  ‘I didn’t even get a good look at her,’ Gray said. ‘Are they nocturnal?’

  ‘They don’t like the sun,’ Adri replied. ‘But they’re not vampires or anything—they don’t burn up. They simply prefer the night.’

  ‘I remember some Commandos,’ Smith said. ‘Back some fifteen years or so, MYTH Commandos, thinking them witches to be creatures of the night, devising a trap. An entire pack of witches, say about seven or eight of them, were hoisted into the sunlight. Of course they didn’t burn. They ripped through the nets and then ripped through the Commandos; they didn’t even know about mercury in those days, poor devils. Magical firearms don’t count for shit if they aren’t shooting quicksilver.’

  ‘We learn through the mistakes of others,’ Adri said.

  ‘Yes, and when you make a mistake you die.’ Smith blew out smoke.

  The mood was dark, and no one said anything. The fire burned, and two people smoked. It was not long before Gray excused himself.

  ‘I think I’ll get some sleep too,’ Maya said, rising with Gray. ‘Um, Smith? Do you have a map of this city I could borrow for now?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve drawn several over the years,’ the Gunsmith replied, rising from his armchair. ‘I will show you to your rooms as well.’

  Most convenient, Adri thought, that the siblings decided to leave. He needed the Gunsmith to know several things. He needed to ask questions and hope for answers. Smith had his questions as well, evidently, and being one of the people Adri trusted with his life, he also had the sense to ask nothing in front of the siblings. He looked around the room and sighed softly. He used to come here as a child, with his father, and every time, Smith would argue with his father about giving him a gun for protection. When he finally did get a firearm, it was one the Gunsmith had made especially for him, one that served him well and for years. Reaching into his bag, he took out his shooter and turned it over in his hands.

  It was a beautiful thing and he admired it once more as he had on countless other occasions. Magic needed to be channelled, and unlike Sorcerers whose very art lay in the channelling of different kinds of magic directly from their modified gauntlets, Necromancers needed to rely on magically modified firearms. Tantrics needed to be crack shots, and were taught to shoot from an early age. The weaknesses of each enemy were imbibed in bullets modified by decent bullet alchemists, and the Tantrics used different rounds for different enemies accordingly. Damage that wasn’t being done through the spirits or Demons they summoned had to be inflicted through these modified bullets. The silver gleamed in the light and shadow, and Adri was reminded of how old-school the weapon was. MYTH Commandos used automatic rifles that released magical ammo in a volley; but being mass manufactured, they lacked the power and the class of a personally crafted magical weapon. The Gunsmith remained one of the best weapon makers in the land; he took his time and made weapons only for a selective clientele, but the quality was always worth the wait. The last time Adri had seen the Gunsmith had been a year ago, and he hadn’t changed much. The retired defender now lived a life of loneliness in the Old City, doing Adri didn’t know what.

  The Gunsmith came back soon and sat back in his armchair, puffing on his pipe quite fast. ‘Okay then Adri, where are you taking those two?’

  ‘The Lake of Fire,’ Adri answered.

  ‘Near the wars, great. No, you need to start from the beginning.’

  And that’s what Adri did. The Gunsmith listened patiently, though his eyes bulged with disbelief as the tale progressed.

  ‘The Horsemen,’ Smith said at last. ‘No, I’m sorry lad, I don’t know shit about them. Mostly legend, but I bet you’ve heard that before. Victor must have known something, but he’s. . .’

  ‘Did you know about Father’s archives, Smith?’

  ‘The books?’

  ‘Yes. Extensive notes on almost everything he ever encountered,’ Adri said. ‘Hidden away in a secret basement that I never knew about in all my years in that house.’

  ‘Victor always had his secrets. We learnt to respect them early, me and the others. I’m not surprised one bit, Adri. But what are you getting at?’

  ‘If my father had ever encountered the Horsemen, he would have written it down.’

  ‘Well, did he?’

  ‘I don’t know. The books are arranged alphabetically in that basement, Smith; and the letter H is missing.’

  ‘Just H?’

  ‘No. H, J, and C. Do you know anything about this?’

  Smith nodded. ‘I think so. You remember Professor Sural?’

  ‘Vaguely. The man who used to teach in some university, right?’

  Smith nodded. ‘Jadavpur. He was a professor at Jadavpur. I believe Victor used to lend him books, and most personal ones.’

  ‘Is he still here in the city?’

  ‘I have no idea. Rumoured dead. Try calling his spirit.’

  Adri s
hook his head. ‘No good, I don’t have any personal object belonging to the professor. And neither will you, I suppose?’

  ‘No, never really even knew the professor. But there’s a possibility.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘His office. In the university. He might just have Victor’s books stored away in there.’

  ‘The original Jadavpur University?’

  ‘Yes. He was a professor of Demonology. If you can get to the department, you can verify.’

  ‘You mean to say the books could still be there?’

  ‘They should be. Every professor had some kind of a wall safe, if I’m not wrong.’

  Adri sank into his thoughts. The original JU campus fell on his way to the Lake of Fire anyway, but his original plan had been to skirt around it—the place had always harboured ill. There were rumours of people disappearing within, of things long-forgotten living within the vine-infested walls. ‘I suppose I could go through JU. Though I don’t like that place.’

  ‘None of us do. Might be the only way if you don’t want to wait for the Fallen’s report. Aurcoe is an old one, a sly old thing. He’ll get the job done if you can get his blood. Who’s the Angel?’

  ‘Kaavsh. I don’t know him.’

  ‘I do. He’s an interesting one. Takes his job here seriously. I met him years ago, he wasn’t as powerful then as he’s now.’

  ‘Will he part with his blood?’

  ‘No,’ Smith said simply. ‘There’s no way someone like Kaavsh will give his blood for a Fallen. And I suspect he won’t be happy about you using both his siblings either.’

  ‘They’re not his blood siblings,’ Adri returned darkly.

  ‘Kaavsh seemed to take the whole earth sibling thing quite seriously. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s more than a little attached to these two here.’

  ‘I’m worried now, Smith. I don’t have a plan to make the Angel part with his blood yet.’

  The Gunsmith waved the comment aside. ‘You will figure out a way, I know that. I am yet to come across a Necromancer as resourceful as you. No, what I’m worried about is Victor.’

  ‘You must realise, Smith, that I can’t follow up on my father’s kidnapping until I get this out of the way. But neither can I let it lie.’

  ‘I know, lad, you don’t need to defend yourself. Thing is, Victor could always take care of himself. I have seen him summoning Infernals in the past. He’s quite capable of controlling them; this isn’t a summoning gone wrong. He has been taken.’ Smith leaned back. ‘I don’t know who it could be, or where to start looking. Victor always had too many enemies.’ He looked at Adri. ‘How were things between you and Victor?’

  ‘The same. As always,’ Adri replied drily.

  ‘You two could have been the best father-son team to date,’ Smith said. ‘You two needed to talk it over, clear it out.’

  ‘We had our talks, and I never got my answers.’

  ‘You can’t say Victor ever stopped you from growing, Adri. In fact, a lot of the power I see radiate within you is Victor’s. You have learned a lot yourself, agreed, but he kind of was there to show you the way.’

  ‘He’s not someone capable of having a family, Smith. You know that.’

  The Gunsmith did not reply. His face was in shadow, and all that came from those depths was the smoke of his pipe. ‘I owe him,’ he spoke at last. ‘And I am responsible for you as well. Whatever your differences might be, I have allegiances to both of you and I still intend to see them through.’ Adri nodded slowly, and the weapon maker continued, ‘This is what I would suggest. Tomorrow, you go your own way to the Lake of Fire. I will go back to your house, see what I find, and then see if I can track the Infernal. At present, that Fire Demon is the only thing that can lead us to Victor.’

  Adri knew Smith was an extremely skilled woodsman of the city. Victor had often ranted about how the Gunsmith knew not only the most secret, undiscovered places the Old City had to hide, but also all the possible routes that could be taken to get to these places. And there was no doubting either Smith’s abilities or his intentions, he could most certainly handle himself in any fight that might come his way. Relief washed over Adri now that his father’s disappearance was being looked into, that too by someone he trusted to this extent.

  ‘Show me the firearm,’ Smith said suddenly. Adri realised it had been in his hands all along. He handed it over. Smith turned it over in his expert hands, something that immediately reminded Adri of the way Death had inspected it; except it had been more of an oddity for Death, something it didn’t encounter very often, while Smith’s eye was a completely expert one. In the next twelve seconds, Smith had dissembled the revolver, its pieces, all separate, on his lap.

  ‘You’re still using this?’ he asked. ‘I would’ve expected you to come asking for a new one ages ago.’

  ‘I don’t really need to use a shooter while I’m in New Kolkata. What’s wrong with it anyway?’

  ‘How long has it been since I made you this? Five, six years?’

  ‘Yes, something like that.’

  ‘The artefact has almost faded away, there’s very little magic left, and you’re bloody lucky that you could give that witch even the two rounds you fired.’

  Adri raised his eyebrows slowly. ‘Well I’m glad you’re here, then.’

  ‘And the springs are gone. The trigger is kind of squeaky. You would’ve been murdered if this is all you were depending on.’ Adri laughed. ‘It’s no joke, young idiot,’ Smith said, gathering the pieces in his hands. ‘I’ve got some work ahead of me tonight. You give that wound of yours some rest, I’ll see you in the morning.’ He got up. Adri lit another cigarette as Smith left for the staircase. Then he stopped midway, and turned around. For a moment Adri imagined him making some sort of remark about his smoking too much.

  ‘Adri,’ Smith said, ‘you’re manipulating these two to your own end. And you’re lying to them about the Angel. If they’ve grown up seeing Kaavsh around, this realisation, it might shatter them.’

  Adri said nothing.

  ‘Watch where you tread, lad,’ Smith said and walked up the stairs.

  ‘They’re not going to know,’ Adri said aloud long after Smith was gone. He was standing now, the cigarette burning fast between his fingers. ‘I’m not going to let them know.’ His words echoed in the room, and except for the gentle crackling of fire, there was no other noise.

  Every wall-mounted torch in the Gunsmith’s house had the artefact clearly visible in the handle. A sliver of a gemstone, slightly warm, that kept the fire burning magically. When the artefact was removed, the torch would go out. Gray had done exactly that to get the darkness he needed for sleep. Maya, however, hadn’t, and the torch near her bed burned bright as she poured over the map she had acquired. Her objective, she realised with the thrill of guilt, was not that far away. She could sneak out this very night if she chose to. There were complications though. She didn’t know how she would protect herself, and she didn’t want to leave the front door open and unguarded after she snuck out. Other than Adri and Smith, even Gray was sleeping inside, clueless about her hidden agenda. She could not risk witches creeping in through an unlocked door.

  Her indecision caused her pain. She was betraying Adri’s trust. Yes, there were things he was not telling her, his agendas were secretive as well. But he had stood by them, taken care of them, and protected them. Of course it was all because he needed them to get to Abriti, but there was still something decent about Adri, something human. He had done some terrible things, but she could see how misguided he had been in his childhood, how alone. His very words spoke of his loneliness, of how he always felt different, trained in an art he had not chosen for himself. Maya realised with a start that she was beginning to understand Adri a little for the first time. Then again, there was that feeling of hers, a certain thing about Adri that did not seem right. She could still not, however, try as she might, place it.

  Maya looked at her bag. This was it. All she need
ed to do was grab it and sneak out, shut the front door as firmly as possible to make sure it looked shut. Then stick to the shadows and walk. She knew the way now, she had memorised it well enough and it was clearly marked in her mind. She had thought about requesting Adri to take her where she wanted to go, or even demand it in exchange of leading him to her brother. She had thought about this many times since they had started, but no. If he refused she could not even try to escape afterwards; duping Adri then would be tougher, almost impossible. She reminded herself to be strong. She needed to do this. Maya reached for the bag—and jerked back in surprise at a soft knock on the door. It was Adri.

  ‘Hello! Was wondering if you two were still up,’ he said. His usual confidence was missing, Maya noticed. It seemed to have been replaced with something more shaky, more vulnerable.

  ‘Is something wrong?’ she asked.

  ‘No, it’s fine, everything’s fine. Just wanted to let you guys know that tomorrow we’ll be going through the original Jadavpur University campus. That’s where your university originated, thought you’d want to know.’

  Maya froze for a couple of seconds. ‘That’s . . . that’s great,’ she managed to stammer. ‘Why though?’

  ‘I have a little work there. In and out. It won’t take long.’

  ‘It’s fine then. It’ll be nice, seeing the original JU. Thanks for the information, I guess.’

  ‘Have a good night’s sleep,’ Adri said. Smiling weakly, he left.

  Maya shut the door after him and stood there for a long while. He’s taking me right there. Adri is taking me exactly where I want to go. Her plan would have to change a bit. Gray and Adri would now be around, she didn’t know if it was a good thing. Why did Adri knock at this time anyway? Maya did not go to sleep. Instead, she picked up Adri’s diary and began to read. She read all night, and when the first rays of the sun washed over the Old City, she had finished all the diaries. She kept the books back in her backpack, thinking about Adri in a new light. Cautious. Admiring. Compassionate. Perhaps even a little afraid. Overloaded with all the new information and forming her own opinions on them, she slowly lay down on her bed, and allowed sleep to claim her.