Tantrics Of Old-3.Myths Of Old by Krishnarjun Bhattacharya

Author:Krishnarjun Bhattacharya
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Fingerprint! Publishing
Published: 2020-03-01T00:00:00+00:00

if everyone got together, would they be enough to fight the Serpent? They could not fight four agents of the Devil, what chance did they have against the master?

‘Sometimes, when I think about the forces we are grappling with . . . the prices we have paid . . .’ Adri muttered, mostly to himself, ‘I used to be someone who could feel touch, eat food . . .’

Nafiza had been holding his hand, something he realised later. It wasn’t romance, it was support, a sort of camaraderie. She did not say a word, but he understood.

The spirits that he had sent to the Temple of Father Frost returned, and they had bad news.

‘According to them, there’s nothing there. Just ruins,’ Adri told the others.

‘Spirits operate on the lesser spectrum,’ Zabrielle said. ‘There are things that they can miss.’

‘What are you suggesting?’

‘Send Demons.’

A Demon summoning took a while to prepare, but Adri really had nothing better to do. It would have to be an Ice Demon, so it would be resistant to the cold, which required much more specificity and certain ingredients that were extremely rare. A lot of these could not be found in Ahzad—Adri procured a list of importers and started visiting them across villages. ‘Ahzad is not safe,’ Fayne reminded him. ‘It is the Infi Alkha that is. Do not forget the difference, pashlin, our enemies are about.’

‘And they may be walking through the villages by now,’ Adri nodded.

‘Good man, Fayne. Words of wisdom.’

‘If that was sarcasm, I will gut you,’ Fayne murmured as he moved off.

‘What’s in the damn basement?’ Adri called after him. Fayne shook his head, turning a corner.

Deep in the heart of Ahzad, there was a room with a silent waterfall on one wall. The rest of the room was large and empty, with a curious rune on the

floor. Fayne and Gray trained here whenever they decided not to use Jaza, although, Gray admitted to himself, the Jaza had helped. He had undergone several months of training in mere weeks.

Gray was waiting for Fayne here, wondering what nasty surprise the assassin had in store for him now. Fayne was not one to dash his hopes—

the assassin arrived wheeling in a giant object, twice as large as him, covered with a cloth.

‘What is that?’ Gray asked nervously.

‘We simply call it the machine,’ Fayne said, wheeling it to the far end of the room, stopping before the waterfall. With a strong tug, the cloth came off. It was a machine all right, but Gray had never seen anything like it before. There was a giant sphere in the middle, made of some old glinting metal, with wires and pulleys connecting it to two arms, which ended in what could only be weapons. The right arm had a long extended barrel, looking more like a rather thick sewage pipe than the barrel of a gun. The left arm had a six-barrelled mechanism in a giant revolver type design. The machine stood silent.

‘It fires projectiles,’ Fayne said, evidently pleased with himself.

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