“Pardon?” Kalaya said.
The Ganairab came to a stop. Up close, its features were almost demonic, with wide, fierce eyes, a bulbous nose, and a mouth rimmed with pointed teeth. It snapped at Hickok in the Thai language.
“What’s this critter sayin’?” Hickok asked.
“You are to go with them. You better do as they say. Refuse, and they will take you by force.”
Hickok dearly wished he had his Pythons. “I reckon I might as well. I’ve got nothin’ better to do.”
The Ganairab pointed at Kalaya and said more.
“What now?” Hickok said.
“I am to go with them too,” she said.
“Why you?”
“I don’t know.”
Hickok rose and stood nose-to-bulbous nose with the red abomination. “What do you want her for, ugly?”
The creature moved aside and jabbed a thick thumb for Hickok and Kalaya to go ahead of him.
“Didn’t you hear me?” Hickok said. The old woman had been kind to him and he would help her if he could. “Leave her be. She had nothin’ to do with anything I’ve done.”
“That is all right,” Kalaya said, rising. “If I do not go willingly, they will drag me or carry me.”
“I don’t like it,” Hickok growled.
Kalaya smiled and placed a hand on his arm. “You are kind. But do not resist. No human can stand up to a Ganairab.”
“We’ll see about that,” Hickok said. He moved between her and the red demigod. “Keep your paws off her, you hear me?”
The creature jabbed its thick thumb again, more sharply.
“Please,” Kalaya said.
The Ganairab reached toward them.
Pivoting on the balls of his feet, Hickok drove his fist into the thing’s gut, or where he assumed the gut would be, with all the power in his muscular frame. Pain exploded up his arm, from his knuckles to his shoulder. It was like punching a boulder. The creature’s body was rock-hard.
The blow would have doubled most any man over but all the red demigod did was look down at itself, and grin. Then, gripping Hickok by the shoulder, it shoved him toward the cell door so hard that Hickok stumbled and almost fell.
Kalaya hurried to his side. “Do not resist further,” she cautioned. “You might come to harm.”
Hickok’s hand was throbbing. Grimacing, he flexed his fingers to be sure none were broken.
The creature holding the cell door open waited for them to pass through, then slammed it shut and twisted the large key to lock it.
The corridor seemed to stretch forever. More cells lined it from end to end.
“Where do you reckon they’re taking us?” Hickok wondered.
“Did I neglect to tell you?” Kalaya said. “They were sent to bring you to the great lady, herself.”
“To Dhurga?”
“Yes.”
“Uh-oh,” Hickok said.
CHAPTER 34
Yama sprang to his feet and whirled. He didn’t know what to expect. That whatever ‘they’ were had snuck up on him without him hearing or sensing them was remarkable. And when he saw them, he froze in disbelief.
They had reared onto their hindquarters and were standing stock still. About as high as his waist, they were nearly identical. They reminded him of weasels, only these were larger, with yellow-brown fur, and white, tufted ears. Their eyes, set close on either side of their fairly long nostrils, were reddish-orange.
“Their names are Veenya and Vactrya,” Chuanchen was saying. “Our house pets, you might think of them, but they are more than that. They are our protectors. They keep snakes away. Cobras and kraits and the like. Or anything else we bid them to attack.”
“They’re mongooses,” Yama realized.
‘Yes. Larger and stronger than those that lived before the war. Their kind has changed, as most everything has. I believe the correct English word is mutated. They can kill thing many times larger than they are. Once they slew a man who broke in and sought to rob us.”
“You don’t want to do this,” Yama warned.
“I am sorry. Were we to do nothing, the Lords of Kismet would hold us to account.” Chuanchen and his son and daughter-in-law rose and moved over against the wall, the son scooping their daughter into his arms, Yama slid his forefinger around the Wilkinson’s trigger.
“It is our lives, or yours,” Chuanchen said grimly. “When faced with such a decision, what else is a father and grandfather to do?”
“I would never tell I was here,” Yama said.
“You would not be able to help yourself,” Chuanchen said. “The gods have ways to make humans talk.”
“There is no need for this,” Yama tried one more time.
“I am sorry,” Chuanchen said again. He nodded at his daughter-in-law, who stuck the reed whistle between her lips.
Yama leveled the Wilkinson but as quick as he was, the two mongooses were quicker. One leaped at the carbine, caught hold of the barrel in its steel-trap jaws, and clung fast, preventing Yama from aiming, even as the second mongoose flew at Yama’s legs, its teeth bared to rip and rend.
Yama lashed out with a foot but the second mongoose darted aside. He swung the Wilkinson, seeking to dislodge the first mongoose, but it clung tenaciously. Sweeping the Wilkinson higher, he sought to slam the mongoose against the floor and force it to let go. For an instant he took his eyes off the first mongoose, and that was a mistake. Its teeth sheared into his leg, dangerously near to his hamstring. He kicked out, hard, and the animal skipped away and crouched to attack again. He tried to point the Wilkinson but the first mongoose was wrenching and tugging and he couldn’t hold the carbine steady.
Yama changed tactics. Letting go of the Wilkinson, he fell into a cruoch and streaked his scimitar from its scabbard. Holding it edge-out close to his chest, he waited for his extraordinary adversaries to come at him.
Slunk low to the floor, hissing like the snakes they so often bested, the pair circled. They were experts at killing, these two.
“Call them off before it’s too late,” Yama urged.
“You are the one
