“Wh...” Rocky glanced at James again, thoroughly confused. “We’re here to see the square.”
James sighed inwardly, wanting to move away. This old man was clearly just toying with tourists. Why did Rocky have to play along?
“Ah, you wouldn’t lie to an old man, no?” The man looked straight at James, his eyes shining with mischief. “One of your kind has come here before.”
James froze, the hair on the back of his neck standing up. He stared at the old man, trying to see what was behind those eyes. He didn’t mean... No, there was no way he would know. He was playing with them, taking advantage of gullible tourists.
“You mean suburban kids from America?” Rocky said jokingly. “I’m sure there’s been plenty of those here.”
“He was tall, pale-skinned, with dark hair. Clad in all black. Even we know him here, in Nepal,” the old man said, ignoring Rocky and speaking to James. “Amdhyaro bhuta. Calico, of the Supers.”
James took a step back, questions flooding his mind. How did this old man know? Was he dangerous? Was he with Roche? Or maybe... with the Supers? Here to lead them to where they needed to go?
“When was he here?” James asked, excited despite the confusion. If Calico was here, the other Supers could be close.
“Many months ago,” the old man said, and James’s heart sank. He was here before the Supers disappeared. But why?
The man pointed to the temple. “He walked right up those steps. The whole square turned and watched.”
“Why?” Rocky said. “What was he here for?”
The man shrugged. “I do not know the ways of your gods. I am just a fruit-seller.”
He reached out and deposited the peach into Rocky’s hand.
“I... thanks,” Rocky said.
Before James could ask another question, the old man turned and started haggling with another customer, not even glancing at them. He seemed to completely forget they existed.
James and Rocky moved away from him. James felt disconcerted. How had the man known they were connected to the Supers? It seemed impossible, unless he’d been shown a picture of James beforehand. But by whom? Derek?
“I guess we should see what Calico saw.” James turned toward the tall temple in the middle of the square.
“If the old bag wasn’t lying to us.” Rocky took a bite of the peach and grimaced. He tossed it aside. “Rotten.”
They ascended the steps of the temple. Each level had a different statue standing guard: monkey, wolf, eagle, and tiger. Finally, they reached the top. Two last statues stood on either side of the entrance to the temple, guarding it. They were strange creatures, like a mixture between a fish and a dragon, with long mouths and curling tongues. A nearby man in a robe touched one of the statues and muttered, “Makara,” before entering the temple.
“Makara,” Rocky said, placing a hand on the creature’s snout. “I like it. Bit ugly, but I like it.”
Together, they passed the Makara statues and entered the temple.
Chapter 16
“Woah,” Rocky said.
The temple was ornate and beautiful. The floor was a polished tile of pink and red, patterned with rings and blooms, like flowers. Several pillars lined each side of the narrow room, pure red with intricate golden bases. Square windows on each side allowed sunlight to filter into the temple. At the far side of the room sat a large, golden statue above an intricate dais.
James and Rocky crossed the temple, nodding politely at the people milling about, a mixture of tourists and Nepali men and women wearing red and orange robes. Their footsteps echoed in the quiet. Everyone spoke in subdued voices of reverence and respect.
They reached the end. The dais was a simple ledge lined with potted plants. The golden statue towered above them. It was a man, sitting cross-legged, with a bald head and long, flowing robes. In his right hand, he held a tall, thin staff with several rings hanging from loops at the top. His right hand, resting in his lap, held a small, golden stone about the size of an apple. It was adorned with a strange pattern, almost like a flame.
“Is that, y’know, the Buddha?” Rocky said, craning his head back.
“I dunno.” James glanced around and spotted a nearby Nepali woman in a robe. “Excuse me?” he said, hoping both that she spoke English and that this wasn’t an offensive question. “Pardon my ignorance, but can you tell me who this is?”
“Ah, yes,” the woman said, stepping toward them. She seemed to be a guide, probably to help educate the clueless tourists, and she spoke fluent English. “That is Kṣitigarbha.”
“City what?” Rocky said. James shot him a look, but the woman didn’t seem bothered.
“Kṣitigarbha,” she repeated. “Earth Treasury. He is a bodhisattva, a monk. He is responsible for the instruction of all beings since the death of the Buddha.”
It was interesting to learn, but James didn’t see why Calico would be interested in Kṣitigarbha or this temple. There had to be something else. He hadn’t been here for vacation, had he?
“What are those things he’s holding?” Rocky asked.
“That is his Khakkhara, or staff,” the woman obliged. “He uses it to force open the gates of hell.”
“Nice of him,” Rocky muttered under his breath.
“That,” the woman continued, nodding toward the round object in his hand, “is the Chintamani Stone. The wish-fulfilling jewel.”
Something about that rang familiar in the back of James’s mind. Had he heard it mentioned in history class or something?
“What is it?” he said.
“It is a popular myth. A stone of great power, said to give its holder the enlightenment and wisdom of the blessed one, endless treasures, and great power. There are many theories of how it is obtained. Some even say it is taken from the mouth of the Makara. Of course, no such stone has ever been found anywhere but in legends.”
James furrowed his brow. Why did that sound so familiar? Something tugged at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t place it.
“Who’s the blessed one?” Rocky asked.
The woman
