Night wore on, and so did the feet. Vyom spied a shadow in the distance that looked like an old man, stooped and sinister. He surmised it was one of the sparse vegetations of the land, good enough for a night's shelter, and ushered along. Up close, it was an old withering tree, gnarly and grotesque with thin, leafless branches.
Vyom settled Sachi under the tree, using a jutting tree root as the pillow, and felt for the coarse tree trunk before reclining against it beside the boy while they waited for Bhringi to descend from the air. That was how they did it, each carrying the boy half way before they switched. Sadly, the boy was still as motionless as the rocks around them.
"Seeing that we are miles away from a human settlement, I believe we should rest up here. Light a fire and sing some merry songs, perhaps, to lift our spirits?" Vyom proposed, once Bhringi set foot on the ground, his wings giving out last few quick flutters.
It was a dark moonless light, only the stars providing some veneer of light. Vyom had more than his share of knowledge on what sort of creatures prowled in these rocky terrains in the dead of night, and the thought gave him chills.
The bee demon shook his insectoid head. "Pursued we are by Rathi's men. Along we must march if live we want," he said. Clever little pest. It was hard to deny Bhringi was right.
Back in the town of Madarka, the naga's intentions seemed quite nefarious, and he had some very unkind-looking friends. The lot did not strike Vyom as the forgiving kind or the kind who gave up easily. They must be out there looking for them down every road that led out of the town.
And curse their speed. The way the three of them were moving, it was more likely than not that some of Naga Rathi's henchmen were already waiting in the next town with their swords sharpened and their arrows poisoned.
"Seeing that our chances to outrun our enemies are small to none, I would like to get a good night's rest before I die at their hands," Vyom complained, but the bee scarcely seemed to hear him.
With a sigh of defeat, Vyom staggered to his feet. He waited while the bee demon glided over to pick up the boy. A coldness touched Vyom's back. He wheeled around and froze.
Before him was a shadowy form of a maiden, still as a statue, tall and wispy, with hair that swept the ground. Even in the haze of the night, it was clear Vyom was staring at a Dakini, the daughter of the night. The darkness made it impossible to see her face, and for that, Vyom thanked the lord. Gazing at her face would seal his death, the treatise on the spirits of OneRealm said.
When Vyom first read of the Dakinis and Yoginis, he thought it was too theatrical that the tale of the two daughters of the night began the way every sibling story began. It described one as the benevolent Yoginis, soothsayers who mean no harm and even bless one with Tantric powers if they are pleased, and the other as the malevolent Dakinis, the demonesses who sucked whatever Tantra one possessed.
Both were born to the night Mother Kali, but while Yogini possessed the arcane art of Tantra and grew to be a kind Tantric practitioner, Dakini's empty core was rotten with spite and jealousy. And leave it to his cursed luck to cross paths with a Dakini.
"I believe we have a guest," Vyom whispered to Bhringi, moving his head as little as possible.
The bee demon who was somewhere behind had gone entirely quiet. Vyom took a few steps of retreat, all the while his eyes were trained on the Dakini spirit. The spirit matched his steps, the silent and sinister advance of a predator that relished the fear of its prey.
"Perhaps, you would like to speak to her, Lord Bhringi. Immortals share many things in common," Vyom suggested, a little breathless from the shock and dread.
The Dakini spirit looked as if a shadow had come alive and moved on its own. She was draped in a saree, and if Vyom squinted his eyes enough, he could spy what looked like a skull bowl in her left hand he had seen used before to collect blood for Tantric rituals. The treaties he studied forgot to mention that little detail about the Dakinis. He kept backing up until his back touched a sharp object, Lord Bhringi's antenna.
"To collect blood and Tantra, she is here for," remarked the bee demon, in a flat, nasal voice. "You have both."
Vyom whirled around and ducked behind the bee demon, trying to hide himself from the malevolent spirit as best as he could.
"I thank you for the observation, my lord. I would not have noticed that myself." He knew it was not a good time to mock, but the fear got better of him. What the bee said was the truth, however.
Bee demons did not possess Tantra, nor did they have human blood. The boy had blood, but he was half dead already. Small wonder the Dakini saw Vyom as the prized prey. The treatise suggested if one encountered a Dakini, they had three choices, to fight, to flee, or to pray. Vyom had decent enough Tantric skills, but the Dakini spirit would crush him in moments. Years of stealing Tantric energy had made them enormously powerful. Fighting would be a fool's act. Vyom saw little hope in fleeing, and so he settled for the third choice.
Behind Bhringi, Vyom fell to his knee. "O Dakini, the daughter of the night, let us go free, and I will worship you till my last breath." He couldn't remember the last time he had begged with so much sincerity.
The Dakini let out an amused laugh in a loud, echoing voice as if ten dakinis were laughing at the same time and not from any particular direction.
"A follower of the dark art,
and you reek of such dread.
All I want from you, O Child,
is a bowl of red and a spool of thread."
"If you would not threaten us with that skull cup of yours, I would be more amenable to enjoying your rhymes." Vyom regretted his words soon as they slipped out of his tongue. He had been told many times his tongue would be his end, and he saw why.