Tiger Thief (17 page)

A
s the demons pulled Sharat into Rookh’s workshop, the air was thick with the smell of despair.

With lanky strides, Neek marched towards them and pinched the flesh on Sharat’s arm.

“Looks healthier than most,” he remarked tonelessly.

“Just make sure you don’t kill him,” one of the demons warned him. “He’s important.”

“Oh, I won’t kill him,” said Neek. “I just need to make sure he functions properly.” With a sure grip he seized Sharat’s arm.

“Good luck!” the demons cackled as they left.

Sharat glared up into Neek’s expressionless face. “What are you going to do to me?” he asked.

Neek didn’t catch his eye. “You’re to be prepared to
fight the tiger,” he said. “Doctor’s orders.”

Sharat felt a sudden rush of panic.

“No! I’m not fighting Emira!” he said, struggling.

Neek held on tight. “You can’t get away, so don’t try,” he said. “The lickers will get you.”

As if in reply, a chorus of clicking swept through the room. With a shudder, Sharat glanced up at Rookh’s mechanical creatures as they swarmed in and out of their cells in the dome above. He knew he had to convince Neek to let him go, but
how
? All at once he remembered Suleiman’s cheering face as he’d watched the show.

“Does the
Emperor
know what you’re doing?” he demanded as Neek pulled him through the workshop.

“The Emperor’s out hunting,” said Neek mechanically. “He doesn’t know a thing.”

Sharat’s heart sank. He scanned the room, trying to find Emira’s cage, but the iron box was nowhere to be seen.

Then, in the midst of despair, he saw a flash of colour and heard a squawk.

“Bite him!” cried a voice. “Bite him and run away!”

Sharat turned his head. A pair of beady eyes and a great curved beak surveyed him from inside one of the cages.

“Pay no attention,” droned Neek. “They always want to bite. They also try pecking, kicking, punching, etc, etc, but they can’t get away, and neither will you.”

Quickly, he opened the cage next to the beady-eyed creature and shoved Sharat in. Then he turned the lock and strode away.

“Wait!” cried Sharat. “You can’t lock me up like an
animal!” But Neek was already gone.

In dismay, Sharat tried to make himself comfortable, but it was almost impossible. He barely had room to squat. All around him were cages filled with silent, miserable animals – dogs, cats, a squirrel, several monkeys, and a host of mangy birds.

“I told you to bite him!” squawked the raucous voice from next door.

Sharat turned to see who was speaking. There was a shiver of feathers and he found himself facing a big, green parrot. He felt a nudge of recognition.

“Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?” he asked.

“Seen me before? Seen me before?” squawked the parrot. He clicked his beak, then his feathers shivered again and changed colour to blaze gold and red.

“You’re Uma’s bird!” said Sharat in surprise.

“Who’s a clever little boy, then?” crowed the parrot. “Ripiraja! Ripiraja!”

“You can talk!” said Sharat. “I mean, you really know what you’re saying.”

The bird blinked his eyes. “Know what I’m saying?” he asked in an outraged tone. Then he lowered his voice and sidled closer. “Of course I know what I’m saying.”

Sharat eyed the parrot. “How did you end up down here?” he asked.

“Got caught!” Ripiraja told him. “Nasty demons! Night-crows. Caaw! Caaaw! Caaaaw!” he crowed. For a moment his beak lengthened and his feathers grew dark. Then he shivered himself back to colour again.

“What happened to Uma?” asked Sharat.

“Ran away! Ran away!” said Ripi.

Sharat shook his head. “I’m glad
someone
got away,” he said miserably. “Everyone else I’ve met in this city is down here. Nara, Aya, and now
you
…”

Ripiraja clicked his beak and his head tilted sideways. “Aya?” he said. “Little girl? Curly hair?”

Sharat nodded. “That’s her,” he said.

“Where is she?” asked Ripi.

“Stuck in the dungeons,” Sharat told him. “She was helping me find Emira.”

The parrot looked crestfallen. “Poor little Aya,” he crooned.

Sharat’s heart wrenched as he thought about his friend. What chance did she have now? “If only there was some way of finding the amulet,” he said, thinking out loud. “Aya’s still got one more wish.”

“What amulet?” squawked Ripiraja.

“It looks like a golden bee, with a big, blue diamond in the middle,” Sharat explained. “Uma gave it to me.”

Ripiraja’s eyes flashed in recognition. “Jinni amulet!” he crowed. “Magic! Magic!”

“That’s the one,” said Sharat.

“Where is it?” asked Ripi.

Sharat grimaced. “I don’t know,” he said. “Rookh’s taken it.”

The parrot grasped the door of his cage with one of his claws and gave it a shake. “I’ll find it!” he cawed. “Let me out! Let me out!”

Sharat felt a stirring of hope. “Do you really think you can?” he asked.

“I can try!” squawked the bird.

His heart pounding, Sharat’s gaze shifted to the latch on the parrot’s cage. Quickly, he tried to reach through the bars towards the lock, but his hands were too big. “If only I had some kind of stick!” he said, rattling the bars in frustration.

Ripiraja clicked his beak. “Quick! Quick!” he squawked. “Here comes Neek.”

Sure enough, the lanky technician was striding towards them.

Sharat’s mind was racing. He had to get Ripiraja out of there. It might be their only hope. Suddenly an idea came to him. He pulled his hands away from the latch.

“Play dead!” he hissed through the bars.

Ripiraja didn’t stop to ask why. With a strangled caw, he collapsed on to the floor of his cage, a common green parrot again, but this time his feathers were dull, and his feet stuck rigidly into the air as a nasty odour began to waft from the direction of his body.

By now Neek had reached Sharat’s cage. “Out you come, tiger boy,” he said tonelessly.

Sharat grimaced. “Before you take me you should do something about that bird,” he said, pointing at Ripiraja in disgust. “It stinks!”

The shadow of a frown crossed Neek’s face. He shifted his gaze to Ripiraja and rattled the cage. The bird toppled over on to his side.

“Dead?” said Neek in surprise. He frowned. “How did that happen?”

Sharat shrugged. “Maybe you didn’t look after it properly,” he said. “I bet Rookh won’t be too pleased.”

A faint trace of worry appeared on Neek’s usually placid face. “I’d better dispose of it before the smell gets any worse,” he muttered.

Sharat held his breath as Neek unlocked the cage and reached for the parrot.

“I know, I’ll feed it to the tiger,” he said, looking pleased with himself.

“No!” cried Sharat. “You can’t do that… It’s … it’s diseased. It might make her sick.”

“Parrots and tigers don’t have the same sicknesses,” Neek told him. “The tiger will be happy. They like bird meat.” He hurried off, holding Ripiraja tightly in his hands.

Sharat knew only too well how much Emira liked birds from their hunting trips in the mountains. Normally the tiger wouldn’t eat rotting meat, but would Ripiraja be able to fool her too? And even if he did, what were the chances of him finding the amulet? Sharat’s stomach clenched, but he didn’t have long to think about the parrot’s fate. As he stared out of the cage he saw someone else coming. It was a girl dressed in yellow robes.

She moved from cage to cage, dropping in bits of food for the animals, and changing their water. Once she reached his cage she gave him a quick glance and shoved a stale chapatti through the bars.

Sharat felt a jolt of recognition. “Nara!”

The sewer-girl stared. Her blind eye was repaired now. A ruby had taken its place and a golden plaque covered half her face. The other eye flashed coldly. Then she recognised him. “Tiger boy,” she said with a sneer. “So, he got you in the end.”

“What are you doing here?” asked Sharat. “I thought you were being taken to work in the mines.”

“I told you I knew how to make myself useful,” said Nara. “I’ve been chosen to serve Doctor Rookh himself.” Her face hardened into triumph. “He told me I was unusually talented. He’s going to make me his heir.”

“That’s funny,” said Sharat. “He told me the same thing, but it’s not much of a job feeding the animals, is it?”

Nara glowered at him. “This is just the beginning,” she snapped. She lifted her head in pride. “I won’t be staying here for long. I’m going to be a licker.”

Sharat felt a chill pass through him. “What do you mean, you’re going to be a licker?” he asked. “They’re just machines, aren’t they?”

Nara shook her head. “That shows how much
you
know,” she said scornfully. “The lickers aren’t machines. They are all real animals to begin with. Then Neek slowly replaces bits of their body with gold and jewels, until they become immortal.” She leaned forward. “That’s why the ghuls were stealing children,” she said. “Neek uses them for his experiments.
I’m
the first one that didn’t die.” She touched her new eye proudly.

Sharat stared at Nara in horror. “But if you become a licker, you won’t even be human any more,” he said. “You’ll turn into a machine.”

Nara shook her head. “I’ll never be a machine,” she told him. “I’ll always be a girl. A golden girl, living forever in my beautiful golden body.”

Just then Neek came back to the workshop. He stood behind Nara. “It’s a tricky process,” he said. “It took me a long time to get it right. We have to take it one step at a time. Get it wrong, and you’ve just got a lump of metal and rotting meat.”

Sharat’s flesh crawled. “What if Nara changes her mind?” he asked. “Can you reverse the process?”

Neek shook his head. “Once you start there’s no going back,” he said. “If you remove the gold after it’s been implanted it tears away the soul, and the specimen dies.”

He reached down and unlocked Sharat’s cage. “But never mind the others,” he said. “It’s your turn now.”

Sharat stared at him. “Are you saying you want to make me into a licker?” he asked in horror.

“Rookh’s orders,” said Neek, reaching into the cage.

All of a sudden, Sharat was filled with an overwhelming sense of dread.

“No! Don’t! Let me go!” he yelled as Neek grabbed him. But Neek had no mercy. With a vice-like grip, he held Sharat’s struggling body out at arm’s length as he carried him over to the workbench. Then he pinned him firmly down to the cold surface while Nara clamped his arms and legs so that he couldn’t move.

Sharat twisted his head, desperately trying to see what was going on. As he watched, Neek opened a box and pulled out a small disc of gold with slender rays extending from its round body.

“Stay still,” Neek told him. “This won’t hurt.”

“No! Get off!” cried Sharat, wrenching his arms as he tried to get free, but no circus trick could help him now. Neek was already holding the disc over his heart. Then, with a sudden movement, the rays of gold lifted themselves up like a set of spiders’ legs and dived down into his chest, embedding themselves deeply into his flesh.

Sharat gasped. For a moment there was a flash of excruciating pain, but it passed almost immediately. Instead, a sense of warmth flooded his body, and all at once he felt more blissfully happy than he had ever felt in his life.

Basking in this unexpected sensation, he looked gratefully up at Neek and Nara, but he barely had time to smile before his eyes closed, and soon he fell into a dreamless sleep.

A
ya was left shackled with the sound of rats gnawing in the dark corners of the dungeon and only the ghosts of the ghuls for company, but that wasn’t the worst. Doctor Rookh’s terrible words had left her feeling sick to the core.

You’re my daughter
.

Aya had never wondered about her father before. Now, shadowy memories of Rookh’s frequent visits to the
Zenana
returned to her. He’d been the only man ever to intrude into the peaceful space her mother had created, bringing anger, violence, and ultimately murder. Her mother had hated him, but that wouldn’t have stopped him from making her his wife.

The chains on Aya’s ankles clanked as she lifted her
feet off the floor and curled herself into a tiny ball of pain. Hugging her knees, she cried until there were no tears left. Afterwards she lay huddled and still. How she wished her mother was still alive.

With an aching heart, she folded her hands and squeezed her eyes shut.

“Mama, if you’re there somewhere, please help me find a way out of this prison,” she begged.

For a moment she lost herself in her memories, remembering her mother’s laugh and the games they used to play in their little garden.

Just then, she heard a jangle of keys at the door and her eyes flew open in the hope that by some magic her prayer had been answered.

It was Mohini. As she entered the dungeon she slipped the keys into her pocket. She was carrying a wooden platter.

Aya sat up in a hurry and pushed the tears from her eyes. She eyed Mohini with undisguised hatred.

“What do you want?” she asked.

Mohini put the platter down on the stone bench. On it was a clay pot of water and a loaf of bread. “I’ve brought you some food,” she said.

Aya barely glanced at it. “Why bother?” she asked, her voice bitter. “Rookh’s only going to keep me locked up in this dungeon.”

“Don’t worry, he won’t keep you here forever,” Mohini reassured her. “He just likes to frighten people.” She lowered her voice. “Between you and me, I think he was
rather impressed by you. You are his
daughter
, after all.”

Aya felt her soul shrink. Part of her had been hoping that it was all a horrible mistake. “So it’s true,” she whispered.

Mohini’s mouth twisted. “Of course it’s true,” she said. “What did you think? That your mother was some kind of saint?”

Aya pressed her lips together in pain.

“That’s it,” Mohini told her. “Be a good girl and keep your mouth shut. If you’re clever, Rookh will give you anything you want.”

Aya shuddered. “He doesn’t
have
anything I want.”

“That can’t be true,” said Mohini. Her eyes swept over Aya appraisingly. “Wouldn’t you like to be a princess? You could have the best of everything – jewels, pretty clothes and as much delicious food as you can eat.”

“What, and be a traitor like
you
?” snapped Aya.

Mohini’s eyes flashed. “I’m no traitor,” she said.

“Then why did you help Doctor Rookh steal Emira?” demanded Aya, glaring up at her.

“I’m not helping him,” said Mohini sharply. “I’m
tricking
him.”

Aya eyed her with suspicion. “What do you mean?”

Mohini glanced around. Then she lowered her voice. “Rookh thinks that by making Sharat kill Emira he can prevent the Queen’s prophecy from coming true,” she said, “but Rookh only knows what I’ve told him. He doesn’t know the
real
power of the Sword of Shiva.”

Aya shifted, drawn into Mohini’s story despite herself.
“What are you talking about?” she asked.

Mohini’s eyes glittered. “The Sword of Shiva doesn’t
kill
jinnis, it liberates them,” she said. “At the very moment that Sharat uses it to stab Emira in the heart, a gateway will open in the veil between the worlds to allow her to return to Aruanda, and when that happens, I intend to go with her.”

For a moment Aya felt a glimmer of hope. “Does that mean the jinnis will be freed after all?”

“What jinnis?” said Mohini with a sneer. “I’m the only real jinni left in this city. All the rest have turned into ghuls.”

Aya stared at her in disbelief. “What about the Queen of the Forest?”

A look of triumph crossed Mohini’s face. “She’s dead,” she snapped. “Rookh’s finally killed her. At last.”

Aya felt sick. “But she
can’t
be dead,” she said. “What about the prophecy?”

Mohini’s lip curled. “Surely you don’t really believe in that silly little rhyme,” she said. “Sharat’s only twelve years old. How can he be part of a prophecy? Besides, he’ll never wake his jinni side now. The Queen was the only one who knew his name.”

Aya’s heart sank. All of her dreams were crumbling at once. Then another thought occurred to her. “But if Sharat hasn’t woken his jinni side, won’t using the Sword of Shiva kill him?” she asked.

Mohini shrugged. “Perhaps,” she said.

“How
could
you?” gasped Aya in horror. “He’s the
Prince of Jinnis!”

Mohini’s eyes flashed. “What does
Sharat
know about being a jinni?” she demanded. “He’s a filthy mongrel, just like
you
.”

Aya stared at her. “What are you talking about?”

Mohini looked at her with disdain. “Sharat’s your brother,” she said. “For what it’s worth.”

“My
brother
?” said Aya, stunned.

“Half-brother,” Mohini corrected herself. Her mouth twisted in disgust. “Your mother wasn’t happy with
one
human lover. She had to have
two
.”

Aya wasn’t listening. Her mind was racing. Sharat was her
brother
?

With an impatient swish of her dress Mohini stood up.

Aya gave a start. “Where are you going?” she asked in alarm.

“I need to get ready for the fight,” Mohini told her. “They’ll be starting soon.”

Aya felt a flutter of panic. She couldn’t let Mohini leave her
now
. “Wait!” she begged. “Don’t leave me here on my own!” She reached out and clutched at Mohini’s skirt.

Mohini shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she said. “You can’t come with me.”

“But I’ve got to see the fight!” said Aya, her voice sharp with desperation.

With an impatient move, Mohini pulled back her skirt. “Rookh doesn’t want you at the fight,” she snapped. “You’re to stay down here until he comes to get you.”

Aya threw her arms around Mohini’s waist. “No … please … take me with you!” she sobbed. “I want to go to Aruanda.”

“Get off me!” hissed Mohini, sharply wrenching herself out of Aya’s grasp. “You’re just a sewer-girl. You’d be no use to me in Aruanda. You’re Rookh’s child now. Take your tears to
him
.”

With a toss of her silky hair, she turned away. Then, without looking back, she swept out of the room, and the dungeon doors clanged shut behind her.

With hurried strides, Mohini made her way back to her chambers, pushing all thoughts of Aya out of her mind. Now was not the time for emotions or regrets. Now was the time for action.

“In!” she snapped, barely looking at the new
house-marshal
.

With a mutter, the door swung open, and closed behind her.

Mohini stripped out of her scarlet gown. Then, wearing only her shift, she moved over to the chest at the end of her bed and opened it to release the spicy smell of cedar, sandalwood and cinnamon. Bending down, she reached in and took out a dress. The fabric unfolded in a cascade of emerald silk: the Queen’s dress.

Mohini sighed. It was as good as new. Quickly she pulled it on and clasped a belt around her hips. Then she went to stand in front of her mirror. The woman that looked back at her seemed different somehow. More
regal. And this time there was no trickery involved. Carefully she smoothed the silk.

“Beautiful!” she said.

For a moment she just stood there, admiring her reflection, but then a frown crossed her face. Something wasn’t quite right. Putting her hand to her throat she realised that the rubies she’d always worn clashed with the emerald of the dress.

Impatiently, she unclasped the necklace and dropped it carelessly on the dressing table while she rummaged around her jewellery box, but to her frustration she couldn’t find anything that matched. Then, just as she was about to give up, she remembered Rookh’s latest gift.

When he’d given it to her she’d barely glanced at it, but now her eyes lit up in recognition as she pulled an amulet out of the folds of her old scarlet dress. The Queen’s jewel. She’d thought it had disappeared during the troubles, but now, here it was again – a golden bee set with a rare, blue diamond. It was as if she’d been
meant
to have it.

Carefully, she threaded the jewel on to a fine, golden chain, before hanging it around her neck.

“Perfect!” she whispered, a smile of triumph playing on her lips as she admired her reflection one last time.