The Place of Dead Kings (7 page)

Kanvar’s voice rose gradually from a whisper to a loud chant, the sound filling the hut as it bounced from the walls and roof. It was as though there were many voices instead of one, a chorus that was at times discordant and at other times harmonious.

Jack felt as though he were floating, although the ground was still pressing against his back. It was as if he’d been drinking ale and his bed were spinning beneath him. He focused on Elizabeth’s face and did his best to suppress any other thoughts. He studied her features and piercing eyes, tried to hold her image still.

The sattva-fire in his chest boiled and churned, his left arm ached and his heartbeat thumped in his head.

The spirit realm drew closer and he noticed the first prickle of sattva in his nostrils.

Suddenly something clammy pressed against his skin. He jumped slightly and opened his eyes. An eerie mist – like the smoke from a hookah – hovered above his chest. It filtered through his clothing and touched him with cold tendrils. A twisted thread of the mist stretched up from his body, coiled through the darkness and clouded around Kanvar’s chest.

Jack and Kanvar seemed connected by some strange umbilical cord.

It only took Jack a moment to take in all this, but in that time his meditation was completely broken. The spirit realm receded and the material world swamped his senses. The misty cord tugged sharply at his chest, like the rope on a boat moored on a choppy sea. And with each tug he had the sickening sensation of his mind being ripped out of his head and sucked into the mist. One moment he would be in his body, then for a second he would be outside it, looking into the darkness from within the mist itself. The next moment he would be back in his own body.

Kanvar flung open his eyes. ‘No! Meditate! Quickly!’

Jack slammed his eyes shut. He had to still the rippling pool of his thoughts. He pictured Elizabeth again, studying every minute detail of her features, each strand of hair on her head, each fleck in her eyes, each seashell coil of her ears.

The strange tugging sensation lessened and then stopped completely. He was back in his body. Then, slowly, the material world – the world of pain and illusion – began to drift away.

Memories rushed through his head but he did his best to suppress them. He used all his remaining strength to concentrate on Elizabeth. Her face began to glow white on a black background.

The icy mist continued to stroke his chest.

Was Kanvar’s power working? Jack didn’t feel any better, but he didn’t feel any worse either. He was still alive – and that was more than he’d expected a few hours ago. A trickle of hope ran through his body. Maybe Kanvar’s power would save him.

The mist pressed harder against his chest and seemed to ooze through his skin. It felt as though cold, liquid steel were gently spreading through his heart and lungs.

Then suddenly the sattva-fire flared. Pain tore through the centre of his body. White spots danced before his eyes, bells rang in his head and he gritted his teeth so tightly he thought they’d shatter.

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. The only thing in his world was the agony of the fire.

He couldn’t stop himself opening his eyes, and he cried out when he saw the misty cord was now blood red and spiralling like a whirlpool. A gale-like sound engulfed the hut.

Kanvar opened his eyes and stared at Jack. ‘No! Meditate!’

Jack closed his eyes and fought to overcome the pain. But the fire seared every part of his body.

He heard Kanvar’s voice over the rushing sound. ‘You must meditate now!’

He struggled to comply, but it was impossible to blot out the pain and noise. The ground seemed to buck beneath him and his face wept with sweat. The tendons in his neck strained and pulled.

He had to do it. But he couldn’t do it.

He saw Elizabeth’s face in a flash. Then he heard Kanvar shriek before the sound was swept away by the deafening roar.

He hadn’t drawn breath for minutes and would die soon if he couldn’t get some air. He heard a sound like a thunderclap and something punched him hard in the chest.

J
ack jolted and opened his eyes. The meditation was broken and he was nowhere near the spirit realm any longer. He was certain he would die – and perhaps Kanvar too.

But he found himself simply staring into the darkened roof of his hut. His eyes picked out the differing shades of black of the wooden rafters. Weak moonlight trailed down through the smoke-hole. He began thinking, absurdly, that it was about time he repaired the thatching as he could see a gap forming in one corner.

He was alive. And it was silent and still in the room. The roaring sound had vanished and instead he heard the faint rustle of the wind in the trees.

The strange mist that had previously floated about his chest had disappeared.

And more than that, he could breathe. And the pain in his chest was gone.

He took a long, deep breath and the cool air was like a balm. He flexed his fingers, bunched them into fists, released them again. He felt stronger than he had for years.

Then he remembered Kanvar.

He sat up and saw the Sikh slumped to the ground beside the hearth, his eyes wide open and unblinking.

No.

Jack scrambled over. Kanvar lay on his side without making the slightest movement. His face was pale and his mouth hung open as if fear alone had struck him down.

Jack thrust his finger against Kanvar’s neck, felt nothing, moved the finger around, and finally found a slow, trembling pulse. He gave a sigh of relief. Kanvar was still alive, but for how long? And what was wrong with him?

Jack didn’t pause to consider this any further and instead jumped to his feet, flung open the door and charged out into the night, shouting for help.

‘He’s woken up.’ Elizabeth wiped a stray lock of hair from her face.

Jack blinked in the watery sunlight. He was standing in the middle of the village green, on his way to the House of Sorcery. He hadn’t expected Kanvar to recover so soon. He hadn’t expected him to recover at all. ‘When?’

‘A few minutes ago. I came right here.’

Jack nodded and strode with Elizabeth back to his hut. Since the ritual, Kanvar had been motionless and seemingly unconscious, although he’d remained alive. For the past day Elizabeth and Mary had been tending to him as best they could, but in truth no one, including Jack, had any idea what was wrong with the Sikh.

Jack pushed open the door and stopped in surprise. Kanvar was sitting cross-legged on the ground in the middle of the room, his tunic straightened, his face calm and his skin no longer wan.

‘You’re . . . all right.’ Jack stepped inside, Elizabeth following him.

‘Yes.’ Kanvar smiled serenely, his eyes shining.

Jack sensed a smile crawl across his lips. The Sikh might be strange, but Jack owed him his life. All the same, he had many questions and it was about time Kanvar gave him some answers.

He turned to Elizabeth. ‘I need to speak to him alone.’

Elizabeth frowned and opened her mouth to protest.

‘Elizabeth.’ Jack raised his hand.

The creases on Elizabeth’s forehead deepened further and she stuck out her jaw. But after a moment she huffed and stepped back outside the door.

Jack turned to Kanvar and folded his arms across his chest. ‘Why did you come here?’

Kanvar’s smile broadened. ‘You still don’t trust me?’

‘I’ll trust you when you tell me what’s going on.’

Kanvar bowed his head slightly. ‘Very well. But first let me check you. I need to see how effective the treatment has been.’

‘I feel fine.’

‘But for how long?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘The power is not an absolute cure.’ Kanvar looked down. ‘The fire is still within you. I just don’t know how severe it is.’

Jack paused. He’d been thinking he’d been cured completely. ‘Will it get worse again?’

Kanvar raised his palm to indicate Jack should sit. ‘Let me check.’

What choice did Jack have? Kanvar had helped him so far. He would have to trust the Sikh for the moment.

He sat cross-legged before Kanvar, who now shut his eyes, frowned in concentration and placed his hand against Jack’s chest. Kanvar hummed softly and the smell of sattva circled in the air. The Sikh was smelting – processing sattva with his mind in order to use a power. As Jhala had often explained to Jack, to use a power you needed both a yantra and sattva. The yantra provided the instructions, and the sattva the fuel.

After around two minutes, Kanvar opened his eyes and stared straight at Jack. ‘It’s as I thought. The fire remains and it will increase in strength as the weeks pass. Within two months it will be severe once again.’

‘So, it’ll kill me.’

‘I’m afraid so.’

‘Unless you use your power on me again.’

‘Ah.’ Kanvar looked intently at the ground before him. ‘That won’t be possible. The power can be used on a person only once. After that it becomes fatal.’

Jack’s shoulders slumped slightly. What had he thought? That he would be saved so easily?

‘I have done what I can,’ Kanvar said. ‘It is one of the greatest powers I possess. It drives away any ailment, but not indefinitely. The sickness always returns, eventually.’

‘Two months . . .’ Jack ran his tongue around his mouth. Not long. Enough time to say goodbye to Elizabeth and not much else. The world, which only minutes before had seemed bright and hopeful, now darkened and closed in around him.

‘There is one other way,’ Kanvar said.

Jack met Kanvar’s intense gaze. ‘What?’

‘The yantra I gave you. You still have it?’

‘Of course.’ Jack stood, walked across to a chest and retrieved the cloth embroidered with the design. He waved it at the Sikh. ‘But I told you. It wouldn’t work.’

‘Yes.’ Kanvar frowned and stared into space. ‘I was sure you would be able to use it.’

‘You told me. The law of karma says that once you use a power you can’t learn another. You’re blocked, right? You can memorise a yantra, but you won’t be able to use it.’

‘Indeed. Except—’

‘Except I used a new yantra in London, when I was already blocked.’ Jack had been dying on the battlefield, when suddenly the healing yantra had worked and saved him.

‘That is correct. You should not have been able to do that. No one has ever done that. The law of karma is absolute.’

‘So, how
did
I do it?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘And why can’t I do it again?’

‘That I don’t know either. It is a pity, however. The yantra I gave you would heal you completely.’

‘What?’ Jack clenched the cloth tightly and walked back to Kanvar. ‘You’re telling me this would have cured me all along?’

‘That is why I gave it to you. It is one of the strong yantras, the maha-yantras. It is known as “Great Health”. It will cure any ailment.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘What difference would it have made?’

A fair question. There was no point in Jack knowing what the yantra was for if he couldn’t use it anyway. And if he’d been able to learn it fully by holding it in his mind and smelting sattva, then he would have instantly found out its purpose.

Jack waved the cloth in front of Kanvar’s face. ‘All right. You use it, then. Cure me.’

Kanvar looked up at Jack. ‘I cannot. For one thing, I have never learnt it. And since I have been using powers for many years I can no longer learn new yantras. Like most siddhas, I am blocked.

‘But there is something else. Great Health can only be used to cure your own sickness. No one else can do it for you. You must use the power on yourself.’

Jack gripped the cloth tighter. Each time there seemed to be some kind of hope held out before him it was snatched away. ‘Well, that’s that, then.’ He bunched the cloth into a ball and tossed it aside. ‘Two months is all I’ve got.’

‘Jack, sit down.’

Jack pointed at Kanvar. ‘I’ll be dead in a few weeks. What’ll happen to my daughter then?’

‘Please.’ Kanvar again gestured for Jack to sit. ‘Maybe there is still hope.’

‘Hope?’

‘You broke the law of karma once. Perhaps you can do it again.’

‘I’ve been trying for three years and I can’t.’