Goddess of Gotham (11 page)

The light soared higher and higher, topping the mountains. And then it was gone, banking round as it bore west. Two things were clear to the RHM: the Ayah was somehow in contact with the World
Beyond. Worse, she was even now airborne, heading deep into its heart. The RHM knew his geography. West meant Europe or America. There must be something out there of great importance to pull the
Ayah towards it.

Something.

Or someone.

Suddenly, the RHM was certain. The Ayah knew where she was. The Ayah was going for Kumari.

CHAPTER 8

T
he nightmare was back, only this time she was trapped in a locker, shut up in that tiny space knowing that Mamma was somewhere outside.

‘Mamma!’ she shouted as she heard her footsteps begin to recede.

‘Mamma, wait for me!’ But there was no answering cry.

And then there was light flooding her face. Someone must have opened the locker door.

‘Chico?’ Kumari murmured.

‘Kumari, honey, it’s Ma. It’s OK, sweetheart, it was just a dream. You were shouting out in your sleep. Hush, now, it’s all right. You just lay back down.’

‘Ma?’ Kumari’s eyes focused. She licked her lips. They were dry. She must have been shouting really loud for her throat to feel so sore.

Beside her, Badmash grumbled in his sleep. It started to come back to her. She was not in the palace at all. She was here, in Ma’s apartment.

‘I thought I heard Mamma,’ whispered Kumari. ‘They locked me in and I couldn’t follow her.’

‘You were having a nightmare, Kumari,’ said Ma. ‘Wasn’t nothing but a dream.’

‘No!’ cried Kumari. ‘It’s more than that. It’s a message. Mamma wants me to help her but as hard as I try I can’t.’

At this she began to sob. She could feel Ma’s hands begin to stroke her hair.

‘There, there, now, Kumari. Your Mamma, she’s gone.’

‘No, she hasn’t!’ shouted Kumari. ‘She’s just stuck, there, in that awful place. She can’t go up the Holy Mountain and she can’t come back and be a
living goddess.’

‘Kumari, sweetie, you’ve got to stop with this goddess stuff.’

‘You don’t believe me. OK, I’ll prove it.’

At that, Kumari sat up and began to chant with all her might.

At first, nothing happened.

‘Kumari, you don’t have to do this.’

Putting her hands over her ears, Kumari continued her chanting.

Suddenly, the window shot open and a blast of wind whirled in, sending the curtains flapping crazily, plastering Ma’s hair across her face. Badmash opened one eye, then slid lower beneath
the covers. He’d seen it all before. The one Power Kumari had almost got right.

Ma’s mouth fell open as the wind intensified, whizzing around her like a miniature twister, whipping her hair up into a beehive, finally sending her spinning above the bed.

‘Stop! Stop!’ yelled Ma.

At that very moment, the door banged open.

‘What is happening here?’ said LeeLee, rubbing sleepy eyes.

Startled, Kumari abruptly stopped chanting, sending Ma tumbling down to the floor.

‘Just proving I’m a goddess,’ said Kumari.

‘Whatever. But keep it down. Me and CeeCee, we’re trying to sleep here. Can’t you two have some consideration?’

As LeeLee stomped off, Ma picked herself up and sat on the bed.

She looked at the window warily. There was not as much as a whisper of a breeze from outside. Seemingly unconvinced, Ma stuck her hand out and waggled it then drew it back in and sighed. The
curtains hung still, as did the bedclothes. Only Ma’s hairdo hinted at what had occurred.

At the sight of it, Kumari began to giggle.

‘You look like Marge Simpson,’ she snorted.

Ma glared at her for a second, then her shoulders began to shake. Half-crying, half-laughing she began to hiccough.

‘What in the world happened there, child?’

‘I used Power No 8. The Power to Have Command Over the Elements. I haven’t got it quite right yet.’

‘It was good enough for me, girl, I can tell you.’

‘So you believe me when I say I’m a goddess?’

‘You’re certainly something, Kumari. You want to call yourself a goddess, that’s fine by me.’

Kumari grabbed the hand nearest to her. ‘It’s important, Ma. I need you to believe me. If you believe me then you believe in my Mamma. You believe that she still exists.’

Ma’s eyes shone with understanding. ‘I believe
in
you, Kumari,’ she whispered. ‘Now get some sleep. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.’

‘Goodnight, Ma. And Ma?’

‘Yeeees?’

‘Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome.’

Ma believed
in
her. For the moment, it was enough.

CHAPTER 9

K
umari held the bottle high.
Potassium Nitrate,
the label read. Looked harmless enough. Now, what was the other stuff Ms Martin had used?
She scanned the neat rows of bottles, trying to remember, pulling one down then another, puzzling over the contents. A warning squeak from Badmash made her look up. There was a shadow hovering
outside the chem lab door, visible through the frosted glass. Kumari froze, clutching her bottles. There would be big trouble if she was caught.

For one thing, it was recess, when the whole school was forced outside. For another, Badmash was with her when he’d been specifically banned from the building. And for a third, she was not
supposed to be here, on her own without her teacher. OK, so she felt bad about that. Ms Martin was pretty cool. But it was important she did this. Kumari had a plan. It had come to her in the
night, as all her best ideas did, popping into her head just as she was drifting off, snapping her eyelids apart.

‘The chem lab. That’s it!’ she’d exclaimed as Badmash grumbled sleepily. Things were much tighter at Ma’s place than in the palace. Sharing one pillow was hard.

The chem lab. Her favourite classroom, lined with marvellous potions. Ms Martin insisted on calling them by their chemical names but Kumari knew what they really were. These were special
ingredients, not for chemistry but alchemy. How else to explain the sparks that flew from the flask Ms Martin held over a flame or the solution that switched colours before their very eyes? While
the others yawned or tried to set fire to one another’s hair, Kumari looked on, entranced. At last, something in the World Beyond she could understand – good old ritual magic.

The shadow had moved off. Time to set to work. She only had a few more minutes before the bell rang once more. She’d take a chance on the ingredients. After all, she was used to trying and
failing. Look what had happened last time. The Great Summoning Ceremony had not exactly ended happily. Somehow, she’d wound up here instead of manifesting Mamma.

Gently, Kumari unwrapped the miniature portrait she had brought in her schoolbag. Placing it on the lab bench, she whispered, ‘Hello, Mamma.’

The picture glowed under the harsh strip light, the flesh tones so real it almost seemed to breathe. Kumari traced her Mamma’s cheek with one finger. It felt warm to the touch.

‘Talk to me,’ she pleaded. ‘Tell me who did it.’ But the picture stayed silent. It was just a painting, after all.

What it needed was a spark of life, a jolt to bring her Mamma back. And Kumari knew just the thing. Or at least, she thought she did. Lighting a Bunsen burner, she then picked up a flask. First
the potassium nitrate. How much had Ms Martin used? She tipped in a little bit then added a whole lot more. Her hand hovered over the other bottles she had picked at random. Here was one that
looked promising. What was the worst that could happen? A bang, a few puffs of smoke.

‘Stop!’

Startled, Kumari dropped the lot into the flask.

‘M-ms Martin,’ she stammered.

‘Move that away from the flame!’ said Ms Martin.

Too late. The thing exploded. Louder than Kumari had expected. The smoke, that was the main thing. It seemed to fill the whole room. Coughing and spluttering, Kumari tried to wave it away from
her face. Miraculously, it cleared as fast as it had come. She stared around the room, expectant.

‘Kumari? What are you doing?’

‘Looking for my Mamma.’

‘Looking for . . . ? I don’t understand.’

‘No,’ Kumari whispered. ‘Nor do I.’

Nothing.
Nada,
as Ma would say. Except another failure to chalk up. Another lost chance to talk to Mamma.

‘It’s impossible,’ said Kumari. ‘It’s never going to happen.’

Dropping her head to the bench, she sobbed in devastation. After a few seconds, she felt a soft hand patting her shoulder.

‘Go ahead,’ said Ms Martin. ‘Let it out, Kumari. Cry.’

‘I can’t do it,’ wailed Kumari. ‘I can’t summon up my Mamma. She’s stuck in the foothills of the Holy Mountain. I’m stuck here in the World Beyond. Now
I’ll never find out.’

‘Find out? Find out what?’ Ms Martin’s tone was patient.

Kumari raised a tear-streaked face. ‘Find out who killed her, of course.’

‘Your mother was murdered?’

Solemnly, Kumari nodded her head. Ms Martin studied her for a moment. Kumari could see that she was thinking. Then her teacher pulled out a handkerchief.

‘Here, Kumari, clean yourself up.’

Kumari glanced down at the still smouldering flask and caught sight of her reflection. Her eyes stared out, racoonlike, from her smoke-grimed face. Tear streaks had carved furrows through the
soot, adding to the mammalian impression. Kumari grimaced.

‘Ay caramba!’
she said.

‘You speak Spanish?’ enquired Ms Martin.

‘Simpsons,’
said Kumari.

‘Simpsons? Oh, I see,’ Ms Martin began to laugh. ‘You know, it’s quite natural to feel as you do if a parent is . . . ah . . . missing from your life. What about your
father? Is he still around?’

‘He’s back in my kingdom. He runs it, you see. He’s a very busy man, my Papa. Sometimes too busy for me.’

‘I know how that feels,’ said Ms Martin. ‘My dad, he heads up a pharmaceutical company. He makes big money, but sometimes I think he feels he missed out on us.’

Ms Martin twisted her hands as she said this, the bitten nails belying her bright smile.

‘Do you have brothers and sisters?’ asked Kumari.

‘One of each. And you?’

Kumari shook her head. ‘None. Which means I get to be the only trainee goddess.’

At this, Ms Martin let out a kind of bark of a little laugh. Her earrings waggled as she shook her head. They were shaped like double helixes today.

‘You are quite a conundrum, Kumari. A puzzle,’ she said. ‘I mean, where is this kingdom you come from? I’m not sure I know.’

‘I’m not sure either,’ said Kumari. ‘We just call it our kingdom. Papa told me it’s not marked on any map. It’s a kind of hidden place.’

Ms Martin frowned. ‘You come from some kind of a kingdom without a name? But that’s impossible. And what is with this “World Beyond?”’

‘This
is the World Beyond,’ said Kumari. Surely Ms Martin knew that? Imagine coming from somewhere and not knowing what it was called. OK, so she could hardly talk. Maybe she
could explain it another way.

‘You see, I’m a goddess,’ she said.

‘A goddess. Right.’

Same reaction as Ma had had. What was wrong with these people? Couldn’t they recognise a divine being when they saw one?

Ms Martin was looking at her with that special smile on her face. The look grown-ups reserved for when they thought you were nuts.

‘And what makes you think you’re a goddess?’ enquired Ms Martin.

‘Well, for one thing, I’m destined to be immortal. Or at least I would have been if I hadn’t come
here,’
said Kumari. The thought brought fresh tears flooding down
her face. Really, it was all too much. First Mamma. Now her own mortality. It sucked, as Bart Simpson would say. Bart talked a lot of sense.

‘Kumari, no one lives forever.’ Ms Martin’s voice was kind but firm.

‘They do where I come from,’ muttered Kumari. ‘Goddesses don’t die. But they can get stuck.’

‘Stuck?’ Now Ms Martin looked really confused.

‘That’s what happened to my Mamma. She’s stuck in this kind of limbo. She can’t ascend the Holy Mountain and she can’t cross back to be a living goddess.’

‘And why is that?’ asked Ms Martin.

‘It’s because she was murdered. Until I can find out who did it and avenge her death, she can’t move on.’

‘That’s quite a task for a girl like you.’

‘It has to be someone of Mamma’s blood who avenges her. Which means I’m the only person who can do it. I’m the only one with the right blood. Not even Papa can do it, but
in any case he’s not well. That’s why he hasn’t come for me. At least, I think that must be the reason. So it’s up to me to get back home and rescue Mamma.’

‘But what about your Mamma’s parents? Or her brothers and sisters?’

Kumari sighed. OK, it was a little complicated. ‘Mamma was not born a goddess. She became one when she married Papa. It’s one of the Gifts of the Gods, being able to bestow eternal
life. I’m the only one who’s both related by blood to Mamma and a living goddess. Which means I’m the only one who can save her and that’s what I’m trying to
do.’

She looked forlornly at the debris on the lab bench, her gaze drifting to Mamma’s portrait.

‘May I?’ said Ms Martin, picking the picture up for a closer look. ‘She’s very beautiful,’ she said. ‘You look like her, Kumari.’

‘Uh, thank you,’ said Kumari, feeling embarrassed but rather pleased.

‘She does look like a goddess,’ went on Ms Martin. ‘If such a being were to exist.’

‘But they do!’ exclaimed Kumari. ‘We do. I just told you.’

‘Telling is one thing. I’m a science major. I need evidence. What does a god or a goddess actually do, for instance?’

‘Perform wondrous acts and answer prayers. Shoot thunder bolts across the sky’

‘Can you demonstrate that?’ asked Ms Martin.

‘Yes. Well, no. I mean, I can when I pass my Powers. Look, I’ve studied hard to become a goddess. I’ve been trying to learn my Eight Powers for, like, ever. You know, how to
move through mountains. Become invisible. Command spirits. Be invincible.’

‘No, I don’t know,’ said Ms Martin. ‘I don’t believe in that kind of thing. I know you’ve been through an awful lot, Kumari. But making up stories does not
help.’