frowned. “It could be continuing, everyone living their day-to-day lives without me. I simply vanished and the universe continued. Or it could have just …” he bit his lip and Ashoka saw a flicker of anguish “… stopped. Ended. I don’t know.”
“Amazing,” said Ashoka. “Totally amazing. But I don’t believe a word of it.” He’d calmed down now and was putting it all together. Attacked by demons? It had been a set-up. Clever special effects, plus it had been dark and he’d been scared. Things look different in the dark. Masks might look real, things like that. Any second now Ant and Dec were going to leap through the doorway. This was some new TV series, about freaking people out with stories of time travel and demons and alternate selves. Ashoka inspected the boy before him. It had been dark and he’d been in shock when he’d first seen him. Sure, he did look a lot like him, but there were subtle differences. Stuff that the make-up and whatever prosthetics they used couldn’t disguise. The eyes were darker, more haunted. His lips harsh and stiff. Things this boy had seen and done lay under his skin. Shadows of his deeds flickered in his penetrating gaze. Why had they picked an actor like him? Same height but definitely not the same physique. Ash had the body of an Olympian, all hard edges and harder muscles. Though the months of pulling a bow had built the muscles on Ashoka’s arms and back, they were still hidden under layers of podginess.
“Any second now,” he said. Maybe the presenters were getting their make-up sorted first.
Ash and Parvati looked at each other. “Any second now what?” said Ash.
Even with bad traffic, his parents and Lucky should have been home by now. It was almost ten.
Ashoka smiled. They must be in on the joke.
His mobile rang. It was Dad.
Ashoka sighed with relief. He’d freaked when he’d seen Ash and the girl, Parvati, freaked some more when Ash had told him his bizarre story of gods and monsters, but now normality had returned.
“OK, Dad, where are you? Joke’s over.”
“This is no joke, boy.” It was a man’s voice, but not one Ashoka recognised, or liked.
“Who is this?” Ashoka asked.
“Speak to him, child,” said the voice.
Ashoka heard sobbing and a sniff. This wasn’t some game or TV show. As cold dread crept through his veins, Ashoka realised his world had changed and all the earlier stuff, the easy life, was about to end. Right now.
“Ashoka?” said a young girl’s voice.
“Lucks?” Ashoka’s fingers tightened around his mobile. “Where are you?”
His sister sobbed again and then she screamed.
“Don’t you dare hurt her!” yelled Ashoka. “Don’t you dare hurt her!”
“Give us the Kali-aastra, boy,” said the man. “Do that and your family go free.”
Kali-aastra? Wasn’t that some sort of magical weapon? A weapon of the gods? What made them think he had it?
“I don’t have any Kali-aastra. I’ve told you already – this is some big mistake. Please, let my family go.”
“He was with you tonight.”
He? That made even less sense. An aastra couldn’t be a person. Could it?
Ashoka looked at Ash. He’d seen Ash in action. How he’d taken out the two rat-demons without breaking a sweat. How he’d knocked aside a bullet. If anyone could be a weapon, it was Ash.
Kali’s weapon. Kali, the goddess of death and destruction, was the most terrifying of all the gods, more feared than the demons she fought. If Ash was her weapon, then maybe Ashoka should be as afraid of him as of the demons, if not more.
He should give them Ash. No question.
Ashoka put his hand over the mobile. “They want you.”
“It’s a trap.”
“Yeah, and my family are in it and I want them out, right now. You need to turn yourself in.”
“That would be a mistake.”
“The only mistake is you being here! It’s a straightforward swap. You for them.”
Ash shook his head slowly. “The moment you do that, they’ll have no reason to keep them. They’ll be killed.”
“No,” said Ashoka. “You’re just saying that. I can’t risk it.”
“Give me a chance to save them.” Ash’s gaze hadn’t shifted. He drew a deep breath. “But it’s your choice.”
Ashoka lifted his hand away.
“Ashoka?” said Lucky. “Are you there?”
“Yes, I’m here.” What should he do? He shouldn’t be making these sorts of choices! It was as if he’d gone into an alternative universe too, one with demons and death and horror. Ashoka closed his eyes, but no wish was going to change things. He had to act. “He’s … gone.”
Lucky yelled as the mobile was snatched from her. “Where is he?” the man snarled.
“He didn’t tell me. I think he went after that Jackie woman,” Ashoka replied. “He said he’d be back tomorrow.” He gulped and steadied himself. “Please, as soon as he comes back, I’ll call you.”
“Do that,” said the man. “Or I promise you I will eat your sister’s eyes for dinner.”
The mobile went dead.
“What have I done?” Ashoka stared at the mobile, tempted to call right back and tell them the truth. Tell them to come and get Ash right now and give him his family back. That’s all he wanted.
Parvati spoke. “They were only taken a few hours ago. They can’t be far.”
“London’s a big place,” said Ashoka. “How will we find them?”
“We’ve some help,” said Ash. “Come on.”
Ashoka looked around his kitchen. His home. It felt shockingly empty.
Lucky grinned at him from a photo, sitting proudly on her black and white pony, Domino. She’d nagged and nagged, and right after coming back from India, Dad had got her one. She’d almost exploded with happiness and Ashoka had just acted all cool, ignoring her excitement. Now he’d do anything to have her back. “Promise you’ll find them.”
“They’re my family too,” said Ash. “You need anything?”
He had a state-of-the-art games system upstairs. He had his books and gear and clothes and trainers and everything. But that was all junk. The only things that mattered were gone.
His gaze fell to his bow and he picked it up.
“You got any arrows for that?” asked Ash.
“No. Dad said they had to stay at the club. He was worried I might put one through a neighbour’s window by accident.”
Ashoka pressed open the catches and disassembled it in a matter of seconds.
Parvati look across at him intently.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she replied.
“If Jackie’s just hired help, then who’s she working for?” asked Ashoka as they headed down into Brixton tube station. Ash and Parvati stood either side of him, scanning for trouble.
“Lord Alexander Savage,” said Ash.
Ashoka stopped. “Savage? He can’t be. Savage is one of the good guys.” He looked around until he saw a poster on the wall across the street. “See that? The Savage Foundation. He owns it. It’s his charity. It saves millions of lives. Medical supplies, fresh water to