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“Any ideas who?”
“Name of Monty. He specialises in stealing such esoteric items. Word has got around that he’s putting it on the market.”
“We going to make him an offer?” said Ash.
Parvati smiled. It wasn’t nice. “One he can’t refuse.”
Elaine picked up the card and tucked it away. “I’ve got feelers out and should have his address any time now.”
Parvati spoke. “Such artefacts don’t turn up every day. Savage will be after it.”
“You think he might know how to use it?” asked Ash. Aastras were the Englishman’s speciality. He’d spent years searching for the Kali-aastra before Ash found it accidentally, so it made sense that he’d be looking for others too.
“I really don’t want to give him the opportunity. This is our chance to end this once and for all.”
A tremor of excitement ran through him. “How?”
“With your help. If you’re not too busy?”
“Can it wait until after Doctor Who?”
“Ash—”
“Joke.”
Elaine buttoned up her cardigan. “We’d offer our services, but we’ve got some of our own business to take care of.”
“What sort of business?” asked Ash.
“None of yours,” interrupted Parvati. She put on her sunglasses. “Elaine will text us the address. We’ll meet up later and visit this Monty.”
Ash showed them to the door, where Elaine suddenly checked her pockets. “My cigarettes. I think I left them in the kitchen. You go and wait in the van, Parvati, I’ll only be a minute.”
Parvati nodded, then, with a small bow and smile for Ash, left.
Elaine and Ash returned to the kitchen. She made a show of searching the table, the worktop.
“Try your left pocket,” said Ash. He’d seen her put them away and knew she knew that too. This was a ruse to have a quiet moment without Parvati listening.
“Ah.” Out came the packet. Elaine tapped it idly, her attention on Ash. “Rishi told me a lot about you.”
“You knew him?” Rishi had been the first person to realise that Ash was the Eternal Warrior, the latest reincarnation of some of the greatest heroes the world had ever known. The old holy man had started Ash on his training, but had been killed by Savage’s henchman before he could teach Ash more about his new nature, what he had become.
“Getting any urges? Beyond those normal for a hormonal teen boy?”
“What do you mean?”
“Rishi suspected you’d found the Kali-aastra and asked me to keep an eye on you if anything happened to him. He wanted you to continue your training.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Ash said, “but you really don’t look like the sort of teacher I need.” She was breathing heavily just unwrapping the cigarette packet.
Elaine drew out a business card and pushed it across the table. “Rishi gave me a list of contacts. Most are out in India. You call me if you need any help.”
“I’ve got Parvati.”
“There are things Parvati can’t teach you. And her agenda may not be the same as yours.”
“Meaning?” Ash didn’t like what she was implying.
Elaine glanced towards the door, checking that Parvati was out of hearing. “As much as I respect Parvati, I don’t trust her, and neither should you. While Rishi was around, he was able to keep her in check, but she’s a demon princess, and Ravana was her father.”
“She hated Ravana. She helped me kill him.”
“And now the throne of the demon nations sits empty.” Elaine shrugged. “Parvati is ambitious. It’s in her nature.”
Ash reluctantly picked up the card. “‘Elaine’s Bazaar’?”
“It’s a junk shop near Finsbury Park. Open all hours.”
He looked at her a moment longer. He didn’t need Marma Adi to see Elaine’s weaknesses; her smoking habit was enough for anyone to have a guess at what was killing her. The lungs glowed brightest, but her veins and arteries were clogged and thin, the blood circulation poor. Death covered her, a ready shroud. She didn’t have long.
She went pale. “What do you see, lad?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. I see nothing.”
She looked at the half-empty packet. “I suppose I should cut down. Maybe quit.”
“It wouldn’t make any difference.”
Elaine cleared her throat and put the packet back in her pocket. “Just watch yourself. You read these stories about kids who get hold of their parents’ guns and… bang, someone ends up very sorry and someone ends up very dead.”
“Are you saying I’m a kid with my dad’s revolver?”
“No, I’m saying you’re a kid with a thermonuclear device, with a big red button saying PRESS ME.” She tapped Ash’s hand. “Keep out of trouble, lad.”
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nd just like that, Parvati was back in his life. Ash stood in the hallway, bewildered, well after the van had disappeared.
What should he do now?
He’d spent months wondering if he’d ever see her again, waiting every day for some message, getting none. First he’d been angry, then he’d tried to have a ‘quiet’ life. And just when he thought it was all back to normal, there she was, having tea in his kitchen! His guts felt like they were on spin in a washing machine.
A pair of bright headlights lit up the driveway. His parents were home. Ash opened the door just as his mum was unbuttoning her coat.
“Hi, Ash,” she said, ruffling his hair as she entered. Briefcase went alongside the small table beside the door as her raincoat went over the banister, and she brushed imaginary dust from her smart navy-blue suit jacket. She gave a weary sigh and took off her shoes, wiggling her toes for a moment. She tucked her glasses in their case as she glanced at the answering machine for any messages. Then she turned slowly. “Anything wrong?” she asked. Ash was still by the door.
“Girl trouble, I bet,” said Sanjay, Ash’s father, as he followed his wife inside, his gaze on his BlackBerry. “That right, son?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” said Ash.
Ash’s mum lifted the BlackBerry from her husband’s hands. “That’s enough, Sanjay.”
“See what I mean?” Dad shrugged. “Girl trouble.” Ash’s mum was about to protest, but Sanjay took her hand and twirled her, clomping about in his boots. His own suit wasn’t quite as neat or as smart as his wife’s, but Sanjay worked as an engineer and spent half the week on building sites, making sure the walls stayed up and the roofs stayed on. He was at least half a metre taller and quite a bit wider than his wife, so when he pulled her towards him, Ash’s mum was pressed against the globe of his belly.
“Is it Gemma?” asked Mum.
“The girl in the poem?” said Dad, and there was an irritating smirk across his face, the sort of smirk all parents get when they are about to mortally embarrass their children.
“Hold on. You know about that?” Ash said.
“I think it’s very romantic,” said Mum. “I would have been flattered if some boy had written me a poem.”
Ash wanted to die, right there and then. Was there anyone in the Greater London area who didn’t know about his stupid poem? It was meant to be private, and it had gone viral on the Internet. One day Josh was going to pay.
“How did it go, Bina?” Ash’s dad dropped to one knee while still holding his wife’s hand, cleared his throat, and began to recite. “‘If I may be so bold, to say your hair is like fallen gold, and that when I see you smile, my heart flutters for a while…’”
“Dad, just shut up. It’s got nothing to do with Gemma.”
Both looked at him with more than mild surprise. Dad lightly punched Ash’s arm. “Another girl? That’s my boy. Come on, do it.” He held up his fist. Ash groaned as he gave his father a fist bump. Parents trying to be cool. Seriously, had he been swapped at birth or what? “Just make sure it doesn’t affect your school work.”
Ash left his dad in the hallway undoing his boots and went back into the kitchen with his mum. The tap went on and soon the kettle was bubbling. She paused by the open window and sniffed suspiciously. “Someone been smoking?”
“Smoking? Of course not.” Ash grabbed the Yoda mug with the cigarette stubs. He really didn’t want to explain what had just happened. Frankly, it would sound quite mental. “Let me help wash up.”
“This girl, she’s someone important, isn’t she?”
Weird, wasn’t it? Normal girls like Gemma left him sweating and tongue-tied, but Parvati, a half-demon assassin? No problem.
There had been a moment when, well, if not exactly a girlfriend and boyfriend sort of set-up – there was a significant age gap between them – they had been something a bit more than just ‘friends’. She had kissed him, twice. Didn’t that count for something? But once he’d left India there hadn’t been a word. She’d completely forgotten him. And now, just when Ash himself was moving on, here she was, and it felt like not a minute had passed since they’d last seen one another.
“Mum, I just don’t know.”
The doorbell rang. Must be Josh. He’d planned to come over early so the two of them could head out to Dulwich Park together for Bonfire Night. Ash would have to tell him his plans had changed and he couldn’t come. Not that he’d want to go to the park anyway if it meant bumping into Gemma and having to relive the humiliation of what had happened in the canteen.
“Ash,” his dad called from the hallway. “It’s your friend.”
Ash went to the hall, and his dad winked at him as he passed. What was that about? Jeez, maybe it was Elaine again. What had she forgotten now – her walker?
Ash opened the door. “Look—”
“Hi, Ash.”
Oh my God. Gemma.
“Er, hi. Er, Gemma.” He looked around, wondering if she’d got lost or something. “Er, yes?”
He so wanted to punch his own face. Why oh why couldn’t he just talk to her like a normal person rather than a cretin?
“Can I come in?”
“Here?” Yes, he should punch his own face repeatedly. “Of course.”
Gemma stood in the hall. “Hi, Lucks.”
Lucky sat at the top of the stairs, chin on her knees, watching. She waved back. “Hey, Gemma, my brother was—”
“Go away, Lucks,” Ash said.
Lucky didn’t move. She was totally immune to his threats.
“Please, Lucks?”
Lucky blinked. She didn’t know how to respond to politeness. She blinked again, then left.
So. Gemma. Him. Standing in the hall. Well.
She’d tied back her hair, but a few curls had slipped free, framing her face. She looked uneasy. “Listen, Ash. I just came to say I’m sorry about Jack. He’s not usually—”
“Such a git?”
She smiled. Ash felt another poem coming on. “Git. Just the word I was going to use.”
“Is that why you’re here? To apologise for him?”
“No. I never answered your question.”
“Question?”
“About Bonfire Night.” She smiled at him. “I am going. What about you?”
“No. Plans have changed.”
“Oh. All right then.” She gave a shrug. “Well, I’ll see you later. At school.” She adjusted her rucksack in an ‘I’m about to leave now and you’ve totally blown it’ sort of motion.
Hold on. He rewound the last few seconds, trying to understand the complex subtext of that last conversation. Somewhere he’d gone wrong.
“What I meant to say was I… yes, I am going. Totally. I am.”
“Great. What time?”
She was asking him. She was asking him. That hair flick in the canteen had meant something!
Time to play it cool. For once in your life.
Ash glanced at his watch. “I dunno, about eight?”
“Shall I pop over?” Then she laughed. “D’you remember when we were at primary school? I was here almost every day. Playing that board game.” Gemma frowned. “What was it called?”
