Paramarashtra held its breath.
The beads on the sundial neared half past seven. Smoke trails crept steadily across the deepening haze of the evening sky. Evening, but my heart dawned with soaring apprehension. I crumpled down from Hardik with a thump onto a cold stone floor, rolled the carpet up, and dashed towards the vast building of the Panchayat. It was there, forlorn, damaged somewhat, towers and turrets cut jaggedly in half. Its tall walls were drained of color, speckled with lights of the fire, and covered with full of dancing shadows of the ongoing war above.
Yells of pain and misery came from somewhere inside the building. The feeling of discomfort and uneasiness filled up in the atmosphere and a sense of impending danger washed over me. The screams increased further as I hurriedly got past the penetrating chill of the abandoned ghostly corridor and proceeded toward the lounge. My breath was sobbing in my throat as I forced myself to go faster and faster, the morbid brain of mine hoping for King Aghasthya to be safe.
A hysterical wheeze of frenzied laughter suppressed until it became strangling and it came rattling my bones. The whipping sounds followed, which dead stopped only when the two blue eyes saw me approaching.
I burst into the lounge, my breath heavy.
It wasn't just King Aghasthya but every King from the country was battered to near death. Heaving with sobs. Outfits were torn and barely left to cover the nakedness. Skin glossy and slimy with gore. They were crawling on the floor of the lounge, crawling over their own blood and filth, crawling to get away from the ordeal. They were tied, however, from the neck with the rope, the other end of which encircled Shashi's hand. The kings were teetering heavily as though like fish caught in the net.
My jaws tightened. The situation was no less than animal cruelty. The familiarity of the violence here was hardly surprising, but I was moved to angry tears.
The High King, the only unbeaten man was sitting on the table and three chairs set up once again. Shashi wants to talk...again. The High King looked sick and troubled, shivering and shaking like a scared mouse, his face filled with sweat and tears, his turban askew. He was greatly shaken, but at least Shashi respected him enough to make him sit down, but for how long?
Shashi grinned watching me run inside quickly and towards the front of the lounge, his mouth widening like an animal's jaws getting ready to savage its prey. Even after we'd destroyed, swept away, and overthrown all his plans, the grin of happiness lingered upon her parched lips, exuding the kind of cool display of confidence and mystery. Or was it a rendition of a thinly veiled threat for more violence?
I commanded my stone and threw a fist into the air. Fire in the form of a giant fist burst out of my palm. It whooshed and punched Shashi in the stomach. His magic was advanced but he was no Almourah. My formation worked as effectively as it had always. The terrific impact made Shashi hurl back and hit the stairs that lead to the dais. Then he rolled and toppled down onto the floor.
The ropes caught on fire. It zapped front and back. At my command, the flames extinguished before they hurt the kings.
A powerful blow struck hard on my chest. I gasped, blood rushing into my mouth. The floor literally felt like slipping off my feet when I found myself getting dragged into the air, rolled twice, and got rammed onto the floor with a forceful thud. The wound on my shoulder had not healed completely, now I knew when a deep slash cut through my skin. My upper arm muscle tore causing my fingers to tingle. I tried to sit up on my knee but in doing so more pain shot up and everything above my knee ached terribly from the effort to stay put. The feel of invisible tongs squeezed the insides of my gut. I screamed and vomited blood. My skin burned, as though being touched by molten lava, my breath turning into scalding steam.
YOU ARE READING
(Book 6) Hayden Mackay and The Third-Eye of the Pancharatna
Fantasy"Mrs. Zutshi, how different was Zarina Khan from you? She was a clairvoyant, that makes her a witch too, right?" "Mages have their own history, Hayden. They have categories too. Since the time of Lady Chandrika's authority over the sections of the p...
