Dhurga chose that moment to rise from her golden thrown and stand with all six of her hands held in front of her. “Did I give you permission to speak, ape?”
“The day I need your say-so for anything, blue-gal,” Hickok replied, “is the day I stop breathin’.”
“So this is Dhurga?” Yama said, looking her up and down. He took a step toward the throne, and both Kantoz Shan and the Indrian sprang in front of him, barring his way. The Indrian whipped out his sword but at a command from Dhurga, didn’t attack.
“And which of the Warriors are you?” Dhurga addressed Yama.
“You don’t know? I thought the Lords of Kismet know just about everything.”
“You scoff, little ape?” Dhurga said. She raised two of her hands and pressed her fingertips to her temples.
Hickok was about to joke that she must have a headache when her third eye, the one in the middle of her forehead that never blinked, began to glow. Instead of a pupil it had a small luminescent spot that spread until the entire eye shone like a tiny sun.
Dhurga fixed her third eye on Yama and in an uncharacteristically mechanical voice intoned, “Your real name is Albert Clayton. You were born and raised at the Home, the survivalist compound built by Kurt Carpenter in northern Minnesota. Your father was killed when you were young, and you have been fascinated by death ever since. You have a natural talent for taking life that you have honed to a level few humans achieve. You took the name of the Hindu Lord of Death although you also considered calling yourself Azrael or Orcus. You have a wife, a son and daughter, to whom you are devoted.”
Yama, clearly amazed, exclaimed, “How……?”
Dhurga wasn’t done. “Your supreme interest is death in all its facets. Part of your passion stems from the time you died and left your body. A Near Death Experience, humans call it. You became convinced that life persists beyond the grave, and you would know more of what that life entails. You wish to look beyond the vale again, while still in your earthly form….”
“You can read our innermost thoughts?” Yama said in undisguised awe.
“…..and you hope to have a second NDE but you have discovered that simply being on the verge of death isn’t enough. There is more involved. So now you seek answers elsewhere. You are here to find the real Yama, the one true Lord of Death. Not to kill him, but for the knowledge he possesses.”
“What?” Hickok said. The three of them had been sent to Asia specifically to slay every Lord of Kismet. No exceptions.
The luminescence in Dhurga’s third eye faded. Lowering her hands, she slumped in fatigue, gripping the arms of her throne to stay on her feet. “And now you know,” she said to Yama, “that the Lords of Kismet are omniscient when we want to be.”
“Remarkable,” Yama said.
“If you two are done playin’ mind games,” Hickok interrupted, and nodded at the hover board. “What about my pard there? Are you goin’ to keep him stuck like a fly to one of those old sticky strips or are you goin’ to let him get up and be himself?”
Sinking onto her throne, Dhurga imperiously waved a hand at the Batuan demigod. “Release the other one.”
The green creature pressed a stud and the device settled as gently as a feather to the floor. It stopped humming, and Blade opened his mouth and took a loud breath.
“You okay, pard?” Hickok said, hunkering. “Do you need help?”
“Might, yes,” Blade grunted. He tried to rise but sank back down, his arms and legs trembling.
“What the blazes?” Hickok said.
“A temporary effect,” Kantoz Shan said. “It will fade in a minute and he will be himself.”
“He better be,” Hickok said. Sliding an arm under Blade’s shoulders, he helped him to sit up. “Take it slow.”
Blade waited for the quaking to stop, then placed his big hands flat, and pushed.
Hickok had forgotten how heavy his friend was. He needed both arms to get Blade all the way up, and to steady him once Blade was on his feet. “There you go.”
Blade was staring at Dhurga. He tried twice to speak, and after a short coughing fit, got out, “So you’re a Lord of Kismet. We have much to talk about.”
“Hardly,” Dhurga said. “The only thing left is to decide the manner of your execution.”
CHAPTER 43
Blade was beginning to feel more like his old self. He shrugged free of Hickok, said, “Thanks”, and turned to the female Lord of Kismet on her golden thrown. “What’s your rush, lady? You can’t answer a few questions?”
The shapeshifter flicked its forked tongue and hissed. “Have a care, worm, how you address the great one.”
“Who are you?” Blade demanded.
It was Hickok who answered. “Calls itself Kantoz Shan. It pretended to be an old gal to trick me into giving things away.”
“Gualaons are nothing if not devious,” Blade said. “I should know. How many have I killed now?” He creased his brow as if in thought. “Three? Or is it four?” He knew very well but he wanted to see how easy this one was to provoke.
The reptilian bared its fangs and poised to spring. “I will rip your beating heart from your body.”
“No!” Dhurga commanded. “Can’t you see the ape is baiting you? Stand down until I order otherwise.”
“Yes, your grace,” Kantoz Shan reluctantly replied.
Blade spoke quickly, before Dhurga could instruct the shapeshifter and the demigods to take them away. “Was it you or another of the Lords of Kismet who sent one of these creatures to destroy our Home?”
“The decision was made at the High Council,” Dhurga said, folding her six hands in her lap. “Your faction, the Family, was but one of many that merited destruction.”
“Why?”
Dhurga leaned back and folded her six legs, one over the other. “Give me a reason why I should deign to answer.”
“Out of respect for an enemy,” Blade said.
“Respect for a lowly ape?” Dhurga laughed. “You presume too much,
