“Because our Geniuses will go extinct if Vrama keeps hold of the Straightedge,” Ajeet said.
“And your abilities allowed you to acquire the Compass,” Yaday added.
“But it was trapped inside a glowing shape, not in the clutches of a murderous, half-dead warrior-ghost-man!” Giacomo argued.
Aaminah grabbed his arm. “Giacomo, Geniuses are suffering. We have to help.”
Giacomo looked to his teacher, who had been leaning against a column this whole time, quietly listening from the shadows. “What do you think I should do, Master Pietro?”
“You were brought into this world too late to help save Zizzola’s Geniuses,” Pietro said. “But in Rachana, you have the chance to make a difference.”
Part of Giacomo wanted to get Mico and his friends’ Geniuses as far away from the threat of Vrama as possible, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he abandoned Rachana in its time of need.
Giacomo met Ajeet’s expectant gaze. “I’ll do whatever I can to stop Vrama,” he said.
“We all will,” Aaminah added, then turned to Milena and Savino. “Right?”
“Of course,” Milena said. “There’s no way I would let you two face something like this alone.”
“Sure, I’ll help,” Savino said. “On one condition.”
“What’s that?” Ajeet asked.
“Once Giacomo gets the Straightedge from Vrama, you have to give us back the Compass and let us leave with the Sacred Tools.”
Ajeet considered the request, then bowed his head. “Once Vrama is defeated and our Geniuses regain their power, the Sacred Tools are yours. You have my word.”
* * *
Giacomo emerged from the palace’s bowels, overwhelmed by the task ahead of him and exhausted from the harrowing events of the day. It seemed hard to believe that just this morning, they’d been fighting Nerezza and her sky-ship army.
A team of brightly dressed servants greeted the group outside, where Giacomo and his friends were reunited with their Geniuses. Yaday explained that they would be taken to their quarters.
The servants escorted everyone along a path that ran from the palace and wound through another lush garden. A few minutes later they arrived in a tree-lined courtyard lit by lanterns. Mico took a dip in a trickling fountain, while Gaia, Nero, and Luna perched on the roof of a gazebo. Tito roosted in one of the trees, nursing his injured wing. Ringing the courtyard was a two-story building with long, covered balconies that led to dozens of doors.
With a chorus of “good nights,” Giacomo and his weary friends shuffled off to the rooms assigned to them.
Giacomo collapsed onto the canopied bed and nestled his head into the pillow. He’d begun to drift off when the image of Ajeet’s sickly horse-Genius trotted into his mind. Giacomo tossed and turned. With a gentle trill, Mico came to rest next to him. Giacomo cradled him close, grateful for his Genius’s health and praying it would last.
18
WONDERS WITHIN
Bong! Bong!
Giacomo startled from his slumber and squinted at the morning light pouring through the windows. With a groan, he pulled himself out of bed, got dressed, and staggered into the courtyard as the last bell chimed from the palace. Four servants wearing purple-and-red outfits greeted him with synchronized bows, then directed him to the gazebo, where bowls and plates full of brightly colored foods crowded the table. One of the men poured tea into a beautifully painted cup. Giacomo bit into a piece of thin, crispy bread and washed it down with the tea, which tasted sweet and spicy at the same time. One by one, the rest of the group emerged from their rooms and joined Giacomo for breakfast.
“It all smells delicious,” Pietro said, easing himself into a chair. One of the servants ladled some yellowish soup into a bowl and set it in front of him.
“Here, Master Pietro,” Milena said, handing him a spoon.
Savino wrinkled his nose. “Are you sure it’s safe to eat?”
Aaminah slurped up some noodles. “Tastes safe to me.”
“I think we can trust Ajeet not to poison us,” Giacomo said. “Quit being so paranoid.”
The servants passed around the food, and Giacomo made sure to sample every dish. His taste buds were delighted by all the new flavors, but the enjoyment abruptly ended the moment Ozo lumbered out of his room. He had traded his black Zizzolan armor for some colorful Rachanan robes, and his shoulder was wrapped with a bandage. Giacomo had secretly hoped the mercenary would have slipped away in the middle of the night. No such luck.
Ozo stomped into the gazebo, swiped a plate stacked with sweet flatbread, and slumped into a chair. He kicked up his sandaled feet and set them on the table. “Good morning,” he uttered in a tone that was not entirely unpleasant, then tore into the bread like a ravenous animal.
Giacomo traded surprised looks with his friends. “Uh … good morning?” he replied.
“Sounds like you had a restful sleep,” Pietro said.
Ozo tore into another hunk of bread. “Best in years.” But because his mouth was full of food, it came out, “Beef in ears.”
A long, awkward silence hung over the breakfast table, with no one quite sure what to make of Ozo’s sunny mood. Finally, Giacomo spoke up. “We didn’t get the Compass back yet. I guess you’re stuck here with us for now.”
Ozo shrugged off the bad news. “It’s probably best for me to lay low for a while, anyway. I could use the time to heal up.”
“You’re not angry?” Giacomo asked in disbelief.
“Pass me those noodles, would you?” Ozo said, ignoring the question.
Out of nowhere, a little girl no more than six years old clambered up the steps of the gazebo. She wore a helmet far too big for her and dragged a katar behind her. “Ozo! Ozo!” she yelped.
“Who’s she?” Milena whispered across the table to Giacomo.
“No idea,” Giacomo whispered back.
Ozo leaned down to her and tilted up her helmet enough to see her big brown eyes. He greeted her with a chuckle.
A woman’s voice shouted a harsh word in Rachanan from across the courtyard. The little girl flinched and ducked behind Ozo. Giacomo spotted Lavanthi marching their way, her black hair tied in a long braid that trailed behind her. Yaday followed, arms pumping, trying to keep pace.
Lavanthi made straight for the girl, her steely expression breaking only for a moment as she and Ozo nodded hello to each other. She snatched away the helmet and katar from the girl and ushered her from her hiding place with a stern scolding.
Aaminah went over and with a huge smile said, “I’m Aaminah. What’s your name?”
The girl stared back blankly, then looked up at Lavanthi.
“Her name’s Soraya,” Ozo said. “She’s Lavanthi’s daughter. We met last night while Lavanthi was tending to my shoulder.”
Giacomo remembered that Lavanthi’s husband had been one of the warriors who died in the caldera and felt an immediate kinship with the girl. He knew how hard it was to lose a parent.
Lavanthi spoke in Rachanan to Ozo, who translated. “Soraya wants to be a warrior like her mother, but Lavanthi keeps reminding her she’s still too young.”
Soraya gave a vigorous wave. Aaminah smiled and waved back. “Hello, Soraya. Nice to meet you.”
Yaday stepped forward, his hands clasped in front of him. “Sorry to interrupt, but I’m here to inform you all that Samraat Ajeet is gathering warriors for the mission to Vrama’s caldera. He wants to leave within the week.”
“I’ll make sure they’re ready,” Pietro said. “But please let Ajeet know I’ll be staying behind. My days of adventuring are long past.”
“Of course,” Yaday said. “But as of now, only Giacomo will be joining the warriors.”
“What?” Giacomo said. “That wasn’t the deal we made with Ajeet. My friends have to come too.”
“The samraat must first determine whether they will be worthy additions to the mission,” Yaday explained.
“Worthy?” Gia
como sprang from his seat, boiling with anger. “If it wasn’t for Milena, Savino, and Aaminah, I’d probably be dead right now. How’s that for worthy?”
“I understand, but Samraat Ajeet needs to assess their strengths and weaknesses.” Yaday turned to Giacomo’s friends. “You’ll need to report to the training fields later this afternoon for your first evaluation.”
“And who is going to be evaluating us?” Milena asked edgily.
“That honor belongs to Lavanthi,” he said, gesturing toward her. Lavanthi regarded Milena with a cold stare, then turned her attention to Soraya, who was tugging at her armored skirt and babbling something in Rachanan. Lavanthi patted her head, then spoke to Ozo, who wolfed down the rest of his breakfast.
“Lavanthi said she’ll see you later. Until then, we’ll be taking a walk in the gardens,” Ozo said, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and rising from the table. “Apparently, Soraya needs help feeding some baby ducklings in the pond.” Ozo followed Lavanthi and her daughter and left the courtyard.
Once they were out of earshot, Giacomo turned to his friends across the table. “A walk in the gardens? Baby ducklings? What’s gotten into him?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Aaminah said. “Ozo’s in love.”
Giacomo practically choked on his food. “In love? That’s ridiculous, no one falls in love overnight. Especially someone like Ozo.”
“They can if it’s true love,” Aaminah said wistfully.
“Who cares about Ozo’s love life?” Savino grumbled. “What’s really ridiculous is this evaluation. Ajeet should be begging for our help.”
“Yaday, perhaps I could have a word with the samraat,” Pietro said, wiping his hands on a cloth napkin. “My students are more than capable—”
“Samraat Ajeet was very clear on the matter,” Yaday said, cutting him off. “Whoever wishes to accompany Giacomo must first be tested.”
“What if I refuse to go on this mission without them?” Giacomo challenged. “I bet Ajeet will change his mind then.”
“Refuse? No … no, I wouldn’t advise challenging the samraat’s decision,” Yaday said nervously, as if he’d had some experience in the matter.
Milena glowered at Yaday. “Excuse us,” she said, and pulled Giacomo aside into a huddle with Savino, Aaminah, and Pietro.
“I’m getting the sense that this evaluation isn’t exactly optional,” she said, keeping her voice low.
“Even if we pass this test, there’s no guarantee Ajeet will take us,” Savino whispered. “I bet it’s all a ploy to keep us off the mission so when Giacomo gets the Straightedge, Ajeet will have an easier time stealing it from him.”
“I’m willing to do whatever I need to if it means we’re able to help save the Geniuses,” Aaminah added.
“I don’t see that you have much of a choice,” Pietro advised. “Giacomo will need you by his side; so for now, you’ll have to play by Ajeet’s rules.”
Savino sighed. “Fine…”
They all turned back to Yaday. “We’ll see Lavanthi at the training fields,” Milena said.
“One request,” Aaminah added. “I don’t suppose you have an instrument I could borrow?”
“I’ll have one of the servants bring something by,” Yaday said.
Milena looked at Giacomo apologetically. “I guess we won’t be able to start your lessons again until tonight.”
Yaday cut in. “No need to worry about that. Samraat Ajeet has requested that I prepare Giacomo for the mission myself.”
“You?” Giacomo said incredulously. “I mean, no offense, but Milena’s been teaching me.”
Milena glared at Yaday. “I assume Samraat Ajeet was clear on this matter too?”
“Very,” Yaday said with finality, then waved Giacomo forward. “Come. We have a lot of work to do and very little time.”
Giacomo glanced back at Milena, looking for … what? Her approval? Her permission?
“Go,” Milena said, then she wheeled around and headed back toward her room. “I’m going to get ready for this absurd evaluation.”
“Good luck…” Giacomo offered, knowing it was little comfort.
“Now, if you’ll follow me, we can get started,” Yaday said, whisking Giacomo away from Pietro and his friends.
* * *
“Through here.” Down in the palace’s ancient underbelly, Yaday ducked into a small opening in the wall Giacomo hadn’t noticed the day before. The narrow passage led to a round, rocky chamber that looked like a dank cave. Yaday secured his torch in a sconce, then moved to the center of the room, where he dropped some logs into a sunken hearth, kicking up sparks. Mico chased the floating embers up to the ceiling.
Being underground reminded Giacomo of his old sewer hideout back in Virenzia. “Is this where you live?”
“Yes, every guru who has served the samraat has called this room home. I left my village when I was only a boy to study here at the palace with Guru Pankaj.” Yaday indicated a small shrine, where melted candles and wilted flowers surrounded a painting of a jovial, round-faced man with a white beard. “My teacher is still with me in spirit.”
Giacomo often felt the same way about his parents. “Do you ever get lonely down here?”
“All the great gurus have lived solitary lives,” Yaday said, sidestepping the question. But the faraway look in his eyes was all too familiar. In Giacomo’s old sketchbooks, the many self-portraits he had drawn during his years in hiding wore the same expression.
Yaday put a kettle of water over the fire. “Now tell me, where are you in your studies?”
Giacomo slumped and gazed into the flames. He explained that his Genius had shown up only a few months ago, but since then, he’d made a lot of progress in his sacred geometry skills. For now, he didn’t mention his budding ability to access the Wellspring for fear that Samraat Ajeet might somehow exploit it.
“And have you always known you’re a Tulpa?” Yaday inquired.
“Not until recently.”
“You’ve lived your whole life not truly knowing what you are?” The fire crackled and popped.
“I know I still have a lot to learn,” Giacomo said defensively, “but you don’t even have a Genius. What do you know about fighting with sacred geometry?”
“Not much, I confess. I approach sacred geometry from a spiritual angle.”
“And how is that going to help me get the Straightedge from Vrama?”
“Using ordinary weapons or sacred geometry to battle a Preta only destroys it momentarily,” Yaday explained. “The more you try to fight, the fiercer a Preta becomes.”
Yaday went on to say people became Pretas mainly because they had lived lives corrupted by jealousy, lies, or greed. The longer a Preta remained earthbound, the harder it was to release its hold on this world, especially if it clung to an item of great power.
Like the Straightedge.
“Then how do we defeat Vrama?” Giacomo asked.
“Ordinarily, a guru such as myself would persuade a Preta to depart the physical plane by offering it something it craves, such as food or water, or a particular object. If the person’s death was sudden, reuniting a Preta with a loved one can sometimes give it a sense of closure.”
It was strange the way Yaday would talk about Pretas only in general, and not specifically about Vrama—as if he was avoiding some key information. It made Giacomo nervous.
“But Vrama already has the object he wants,” Giacomo pointed out, trying to get to the bottom of it. “I doubt a snack is going to persuade him to part with it. And assuming Vrama ever had any loved ones, they would’ve died a very long time ago.”
“That’s correct.”
“Then what are we going to offer him?”
Yaday took a deep breath and looked up grimly. The flickering flames reflected in his eyes. “You, Giacomo. You’re the offering.”
Giacomo jumped back and pointed his pencil at Yaday. Mico swooped in to help, his gem already starting to glow.
Yaday raised his hands
in surrender. “Let me explain.”
“I think I’ve heard enough.” Giacomo backed toward the passageway. It had turned out that Savino had been right to be paranoid.
“Please, don’t go,” Yaday insisted. “I need your help to save Rachana’s Geniuses.”
“Then find another Tulpa—or Nirmita—to help you.”
“The last known Nirmita left this world hundreds of years ago,” Yaday said. “You’re the only one who can help right now.”
Giacomo thought of Zanobius but didn’t mention him. “I can’t. Not this way.”
“You’re afraid—I understand.” Yaday’s gaze drifted toward the portrait on the shrine. “I was terrified after my teacher’s sudden death. I had so much still to learn from him, and I didn’t think I was ready to become a guru to a samraat. But in time, I learned to stop letting my fears control me, and instead, learned to control them.”
Yaday’s story gave Giacomo pause. If I could control my fears, maybe my nightmares will finally stop. “How did you do it?” Giacomo asked.
“I can show you,” Yaday offered. “Does that mean you’re willing to help?”
Giacomo lowered his pencil, hoping he wasn’t making a grave mistake. “I’m listening.”
“Excellent,” Yaday said, letting out a relieved sigh. “If you stay open-minded to what I’m about to teach you, I promise you’ll come out unharmed.” Yaday then described how a Preta who had been around as long as Vrama usually hungered for one thing: to regain physical form. It was impossible for Vrama to take over a human body, but he could assume control of a Tulpa.
The explanation did nothing to quell the horror swirling through Giacomo.
“We only need to make him think you’re offering yourself freely,” Yaday assured Giacomo after reading his expression. “To transfer his soul, Vrama has to abandon his Preta form. Once he’s vulnerable, I can cast him out through a purification ritual.” Yaday opened a wooden cabinet and removed a small clay jar. “But you’ll need to focus on maintaining a calm, clear mind. If you don’t, Vrama will feed off your darkest emotions and take you over completely.”