“What in blazes?” Hickok said.
Dhurga sat back and smiled her beatific smile. “I have good news."
“Sure you do,” Hickok said.
“Your friends are alive and well.”
Hickok suspected the other shoe was about to drop, and said nothing.
“In fact, I was just informed they have been captured and are being brought before me. How fortuitous. I can now dispose of all three of you at the same time.”
“Lucky us,” Hickok said.
PART THREE
TO CHEW
OR
NOT TO CHEW
CHAPTER 41
Blade had a lot of time to think as the hover skiff bore him along the many avenues and byways of Bangkok. What else could he do, paralyzed as he was? By the time they reached a dazzling structure so high that it brushed the clouds, he had come to a decision.
The purple being was behind him, guiding the hover skiff. To one side walked Yama, his wrists in manacles, prodded repeatedly by a green creature carrying Yama’s own Wilkinson.
That Yama had been captured shocked Blade immensely. Among the Warriors, Yama was considered without peer. Yes, Blade was bigger, although not by much, and yes, Hickok was quicker, but again, not by much, and yes, Rikki-Tikki-Tavi could wield cold steel as skillfully, but no other Warrior was as expert in so many martial aspects of their craft, as Yama. Younger Warriors, including the recent additions to their ranks, looked up to him as practically invincible. As naïve as that was, Blade had to admit that he, too, regarded his silver-haired friend as exceptional.
Yama had tried to engage Blade in conversation and been jabbed in the back by the green creature for his efforts.
Now, as they came to a halt at ground level of the incredibly high tower, Yama craned his neck and remarked, “Dhurga’s temple. It won’t be long before we’re face to face with an actual Lord of Kismet.” He sounded excited at the prospect.
Blade wasn’t. Whatever the Lord decreed for them wouldn’t be pleasant. He didn’t relish the idea of being executed or thrown into a Bangkok prison for the rest of their days. He tried to say as much but his vocal chords still wouldn’t work.
“I wonder where Hickok got to,” Yama was saying. “We could use him right about now.”
The purple creature growled at him, and the green one smacked him in the back.
“I guess they don’t want me talking,” Yama said, and smiled coldly at the Indrian. “Enjoy this while it lasts. My turn will come.”
His tone provoked the purple thing into raising a fist as if to strike him but evidently it changed its mind and stepped to a panel with a lot of buttons.
Blade strained to sit up and once again failed. He had to lie there, perfectly helpless, as the hover skiff floated him over an ornate threshold into a lavish reception area with enough mahogany benches to seat hundreds. Scores of humans, and other creatures, occupied many of the seats, evidently awaiting their turn to be admitted into the temple proper.
The purple creature strode down a wide aisle as if it owned the place, casting haughty looks at humans and hybrids alike. Everyone bowed their heads save for a young woman nursing a baby at her breast. The mother was so preoccupied, she didn’t look up until the purple creature was next to her. It cuffed her across the face so hard, mother and infant fell to the floor, the mother screaming in terror, the baby bawling. The purple thing walked on.
“These are demigods, in case you don’t know,” Yama mentioned. “They serve the Lords of Kismet."
Blade had deduced that much. He yearned to ask what else Yama had learned but his mouth remained immobile.
Yama must have deduced his predicament because he said, “I don’t know what they’ve done to you that you can’t speak but I pray it’s not permanent.”
So did Blade. Until that moment, he’d assumed it was temporary. Now he worried it wasn’t, and that he’d be powerless to prevent the Lords from doing him in.
“There are three kinds of the things,” Yama had continued. He elaborated on the Indrians, the Batuas and the Ganairabs, concluding with, “So far they haven’t impressed me much but I can see where the average person would find them formidable.”
The Batua struck Yama on the back of the head and snarled a few words.
“He’s mad I won’t shut up,” Yama said. “Maybe I can provoke him into making a mistake.”
Blade didn’t see what good that would do. Other demigods were about, and he could have sworn he glimpsed a Gualaon. Don’t take chances, he wanted to say, but couldn’t.
A wide door with a painted eye opened at the Indrian’s touch, admitting them onto an elevator, of sorts. It rose swiftly.
Blade tried to swallow, and couldn’t. His mouth had gone dry.
The climb seemed to take forever. At last a bell clanged, the car slowed to a smooth stop, and the doors opened. Ahead stretched a hallway and more doors, much larger, and made of gold.
“Her throne room, I bet,” Yama declared, and winked at Blade. “Ready for a bloodbath?”
CHAPTER 42
Hickok was both relieved and deeply troubled when his friends were ushered into the throne room. Relieved they were alive, and troubled that all three of them had been taken prisoner so soon after they’d time-teleported, or whatever it was, to Thailand. Adopting a lopsided grin, he made light of their dire situation by saying, “Is this your notion of a rescue? You’re supposed to charge in with guns blazin’.”
“All three of us captured,” Yama said, and stared at the manacles on his wrists. “I wouldn’t have imagined it possible.”
“You were fools to come here, fleshsack,” Kantoz Shan said.
“Who’s this?” Yama asked.
“Another iguana,” Hickok said. He was more interested in the device that carried Blade, and spiked with worry. “Takin’ a nap, big guy? Or are you hurt and can’t
