“Sahoj,” Desai said, his voice echoing around the sapphire chamber. “What have you done?”
“Done?” asked the mystic, walking toward his old colleague as if he were merely taking a stroll in the park. “Why, nothing at all.”
Desai waved at the Sakhi sphere, still standing dormant behind them. “Then what is this? And those people out there in the cavern — the cult of the Sapphire Cutlass?”
“Ah ha,” said Sahoj, waving a finger. “You should be more accurate with your words, Desai. Your question should have been, ‘What am I going to do?’”
Thaddeus could see the tension in his friend’s jaw as Desai gritted his teeth. “Don’t play games with me —”
In a flash, Sahoj had stepped directly into Desai’s space, grasping at the other man’s throat with a strong hand. “I will play games,” he hissed, “with whomever I choose. You, Desai, are no longer a person of authority. Here, or, I would wager, anywhere at all.” Sahoj abruptly let go of Desai and stepped back, a sly smile spreading across his face as Desai struggled for breath. “It really is such a pity. You could have joined me, had you been less obstinate. But now … Well, now it is far too late. The Sapphire Cutlass has chosen her cohorts, and you are not among them.”
“What do you mean?” Desai asked hoarsely.
“Enough talk,” Sahoj declared, turning to the soldiers behind him and waving at Desai’s group. “Bring them. Let them see for themselves.”
The soldiers’ gazes flickered to Desai. They seemed reluctant to move, the fear clear in their eyes. Thaddeus watched as they shifted nervously, remembering how their pursuers had fallen back once their prey had crossed into the valley. It seemed to him that these troops had no more desire to be here than he himself did.
“Do it, you lazy curs,” Sahoj barked. “Or I’ll see to it that you suffer for your disobedience, do you understand?”
At his words, the soldiers hurried forward, leveling their weapons at the prisoners. Sahoj swept ahead as they herded Thaddeus and the others before them, back through the chamber and beneath another sapphire archway. Thaddeus became aware of noise ahead — the chink and skitter of tools against stone echoing faintly in the eerie blue glow that flickered around them.
Beyond the archway was another sapphire room, though this one was not as deserted as the first they had encountered. Indeed, it was a hive of activity. Two more lines of soldiers — this time the distinctive, closely armored figures of the cult — were working steadily, cleaving chunks of precious stone from a point in the room’s wall hidden from Thaddeus’s sight by their activities.
Sahoj waved the prisoners and their guards to a standstill, surveying the scene before them with a smile on his lips.
“What is this?” Desai asked.
Sahoj turned to him, his smile broadening. It gave his face a distinctly sinister aspect, Thaddeus thought. “Well you see, my dear Desai, when I first found my way into the mountain, I at first thought of it only as the perfect place from which to restore the raja’s power. After all, have you ever seen such gemstones? Such quality, such power? But then after I had spent months visiting its hidden corners, I discovered —”
“Sahoj? What is the meaning of you summoning me like some … commoner?”
The voice echoed from the archway behind them, interrupting the mystic’s words. Thaddeus saw a flicker of irritation pass over Sahoj’s face, quickly replaced with an obsequious smile as he turned in the direction of the sound.
There stood the raja Ikshuvaku, imperious as ever, his hands on his hips and flanked by more of his men.
“Ahh, raja,” said Sahoj, opening his hands in greeting and striding toward the jeweled man. “I am glad you are here. Your men had no trouble finding their way?”
Ikshuvaku was surveying the room with interest, reaching out to run his fingers down the sapphire walls.
“Once I had impressed upon them the foolishness of their superstitions under pain of instant death, they had no further problems,” the raja murmured. “Well, well, so this is the place that has taken you from my side so often during these last months. I must say, Sahoj, that you have done well.”
Sahoj bowed deeply as Ikshuvaku’s gaze caught on his prisoners. “What are they doing here?”
The mystic glanced at Desai. “I believe he has been looking for a way to thwart your efforts, raja. I suppose we should have expected as much. No matter. As you see, he has not succeeded.”
The raja grinned, placing both hands on his hips as he strolled toward Desai. “No, indeed Sahoj, I see that he has not.”
“Raja,” Desai began, moving forward as far as his captor would allow. “You must listen —”
Ikshuvaku raised one hand, flicking his fingers toward Desai as if brushing a bug from his tunic. “I must do nothing, traitor. Other than kill you, of course, once and for all. I should have done it years ago — I always have been too merciful for my own good. Why is he not dead yet, Sahoj? Why are they all not dead yet?”
Sahoj bowed again, so deeply that the sash of his cummerbund brushed the azure floor. “I wanted him to see your final triumph, my raja. I wanted him to witness the futility of his attempts to oppose your return to your rightful place.”
“Whatever he has told you, whatever he has promised you,” Desai said, his voice echoing into the cavern along with the chink of the men still working the stone, “it is a lie, Ikshuvaku, of that I am certain.”
“Come now, Desai,” Sahoj’s tone was coldly haughty. “It is simply because you cannot conceive of anything but betrayal that you can see nothing but the same in anyone else.” The mystic turned to look at the raja. “Ignore him, my lord. He is merely twisted with jealousy and bitterness for your wisdom and wealth.”
“Quite so,” agreed the raja. “It is so sad to see, Desai. You could have shared in the glory and riches as I return to my rightful place — as I return all India to her rightful place — and yet instead, here you are, pursuing your own agenda.”
“I assure you, Ikshuvaku, I am not the one doing that,” Desai spat. “Listen to me —”
“Enough,” commanded Sahoj. “Raja, I asked you here to see the crowning glory of our achievements come to fruition. To see the moment that my — that our plans are put into action.”
The raja clapped his hands together with genuine delight. “Wonderful!”
“First, there is something I must show you,” said Sahoj. He looked toward Desai, and Thaddeus saw something pass across the hard planes of the man’s face that was hard to read. There was triumph there, it was true, but there was something else, buried deep. Fear, perhaps? It was gone in a second as Sahoj turned and addressed the cult members, still working feverishly at the sapphire. “It is time,” he said, raising his voice until it boomed against the gemstone walls. He raised his arms, and at the gesture, every worker ceased their movements, turning toward him. “It is time. Prepare,” Sahoj commanded.
The cult members turned as one and stepped away, their movements slow but purposeful, as if sleepwalking. As they did so, what they had been working on was revealed.
The air in the room seemed to become unbearably hot. Thaddeus couldn’t breathe. He simply stared wordlessly at what stood before him, every hair on the back of his neck standing up in nameless and abject fear.
“Bleedin’ ’eck,” he heard J mutter.
Desai, standing at Thaddeus’s side, drew in a sharp and fearful breath.
Kai spat a word Thaddeus had only ever heard on the docks at Limehouse, but at this moment found himself heartily agreeing with.
Before them had been revealed a young woman of perhaps eighteen or twenty. She was standing half inside a column of pure, clear sapphire that reached from the floor of the room to the ceiling above. The workers had evidently been chipping her out of her resting place, as if she had been entirely encased in the jewel itself. She had been freed as far as her waist and stood, arms slightly raised as if in the process of stepping forward. The woman’s eyes were shut, and to Thaddeus she seemed to be in slumber, but she was clearly alive — her chest rising and falling as she breathed. She was naked to the waist, the dark skin of her arms and shoulders reflecting the tint of the sapphire. It wasn’t until Thaddeus looked lower that he realized with shock that where her legs should be seemed to disappear into the remainder of the sapphire column. Below her hips, there was nothing at all, as if something had rubbed the remainder of her being out of existence.
“What is this?” breathed Ikshuvaku.
“This, my raja,” said Sahoj, his tones hushed and reverent, “is the Sapphire Cutlass.”
There was a pause, and then Ikshuvaku threw back his head and laughed. “This? This child is the dreaded warrior of the old story? This is the power at which armies tremble? Half a girl-child I could snap between my finger and thumb? You take me for a fool, Sahoj!”
A black look flicked across the mystic’s face, quickly replaced with another of his smiles. “Trust me, oh great raja. Once you have seen her true power, you will no longer doubt it.”
For a moment, it seemed as if Ikshuvaku would move to touch the woman in the sapphire, but Sahoj blocked his way, an apologetic look on his face. “Please, raja, let us finish our work. She is … still at rest, as you see.”
As Sahoj spoke, the cult members he had sent away returned from several directions. Some bore armor, which they proceeded to strap onto the woman’s chest and arms. Others came bearing coils of filament similar to those that made up the Sakhi sphere, unrolling lengths of it so that it reached into the room from somewhere else — somewhere, Thaddeus felt with uneasy certainty, that would join up directly with the sphere itself. He turned to look at Desai as these men reached the woman and began connecting the ends of the filaments to the armor she now wore.
“Sahoj,” Desai said, watching with a pale face, his voice tight. “This is foolishness in the extreme. Stop this, now, before it is too late.”
“Too late for what, Desai?” the raja asked.
“Too late for him to rescind his traitorous ways,” Sahoj cut in, before Desai could answer. “Too late to stand at your side as the Sapphire Cutlass bends her power to your will, my raja.”
“Ahh,” said Ikshuvaku knowingly. “Of course, of course. Desai, I think I have been patient enough with your various deceits. With this creature’s power I will retake my rightful place, with or without your approval.”
“Is that what he’s told you?” Desai asked. “That he is releasing this power for your benefit? It’s a lie, Ikshuvaku. No one can control such power as this place — this woman — possesses. No one! What else has he told you? That once this is done, you will reign supreme? That he is only acting in your best interests? Tell me, Raja, if that is the case, then why did he keep this,” Desai gestured at the living statue, “a secret until now?”
The raja raised an eyebrow at Sahoj. “It is a valid question, Sahoj.”
Sahoj smiled and bowed deeply. “Master, I would not bring you something I couldn’t be sure would work.”
The raja nodded. “Now you are sure?”
Sahoj moved into another gesture of obeisance. His voice echoed back at them from somewhere near the floor. “Oh yes, my raja. I am very, very sure.”
“And why is that, Sahoj?” Desai asked. “What have you done to ensure your own survival? What have you promised the Sapphire Cutlass in order to keep your own life?”
Sahoj straightened to look at his former friend with a look of utter contempt. “You bore me, Desai, as much as you ever did. Now it is time to be quiet.” He raised one hand in a dismissive gesture flicked toward their guards.
Desai lunged as the men moved forward. He reached for Sahoj, tearing at the mystic’s loose white tunic. It ripped in two, the sound echoing slightly against the blue gemstone around them. The guards wrenched Desai back, but it was too late. The mystic’s chest had been exposed.
“That’s it, isn’t it?” Desai said breathlessly, struggling in his captor’s grip. “You see, raja?” he asked. “Do you have one of those? I am willing to bet on my very life that you do not.”
There, on Sahoj’s exposed chest, was a tattoo. It was of an ornately curved short sword, and where it crossed over his nipple was embedded a glittering stone as blue as the fractured walls around them all.
“Enough!” bellowed Sahoj, clutching closed the ruined garment with one hand and making a violent, slicing motion with his other. “Get them out of here. Take them to the throne chamber. There they will bear witness to what they most fear and are helpless — helpless! — to prevent.”
“His plan does not include you, raja!” Desai yelled as he and the others were dragged away. “If it did, you would have the tattoo as well! Only those who have it will survive! She will only recognize those who bear the tattoo as her followers!”
Ikshuvaku took no notice. A new drumbeat began.