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166 pages

English

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All future is defined by the past. And therefore, the end is only the beginning . . . After burying the vicious Kalingan warrior, Akash, Tara and Zubin are continuing their lives as before, hiding the fact that they are a part of King Ashoka s exalted NINE; hiding even, that each of them has powers that are to be used for the benefit of mankind, when needed. Except, things are not as quiet as they seem to be! The Kalingan warrior has risen once again angrier and more vengeful. And this time he knows each one of them. If they don t destroy him now, they will be hunted down and the world will be battling its worst, most terrifying chemical warfare yet. This second book in the NINE trilogy will change the way you look at time and space.

Sujets

Fantasy (canción de Mariah Carey)

Thriller

Fantasy

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Publié par	Penguin Books Ltd
Date de parution	01 mai 2014
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9789351187127
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0450€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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Shobha Nihala

NINE: VENGEANCE OF THE WARRIOR
Book Two
Contents
About the Author
By the Same Author
Prologue
1. Tejaswi
2. Anita
3. Raakin
4. Tara
5. Akash
6. Zubin
7. Tejaswi
8. Anita
9. Raakin
10. Tejaswi
11. Anita
12. Tejaswi
13. Raakin
14. Anita
15. Tejaswi
16. The Three
17. Tejaswi
18. Anita
19. Tejaswi
20. Akash
21. Tejaswi
22. Anita
23. Zubin
24. Akash
25. Tara
26. Anita
27. Raakin
28. The Three
29. Anita
30. Akash
31. Tejaswi
32. Anita
33. Akash
34. Tara
35. Zubin
36. Anita
37. Akash
38. Tara
39. Zubin
40. Akash
41. Zubin
42. Tara
43. Akash
44. Tara
45. Tejaswi
46. Tara
47. The Senior Six
48. Raakin
49. Tejaswi
50. Akash
51. Anita
52. Raakin
53. Raakin
54. Anita
55. Tejaswi
56. Zubin
57. Anita
58. Raakin
59. Akash
60. Tara
61. The Senior Six
Acknowledgements
From the Same Author
Read more
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Copyright Page
PENGUIN METRO READS
NINE 2
Shobha Nihalani is the author of Nine: Curse of the Kalingan , the first book in the NINE trilogy, and The Silent Monument . Her debut novel, Karmic Blues , was translated and published in Denmark. She lives in Hong Kong with her family.
Also By Shobha Nihalani
Nine: Curse of the Kalingan
The Silent Monument
Karmic Blues
She saw the myriad gods beyond man, God beyond the gods, and beyond God his own ineffable eternity; she saw that there were ranges of life beyond our life, ranges of mind beyond our present mind and above these she saw the splendours of the spirit
-Sri Aurobindo
Prologue
Patna 232 BC
The palace was resplendent with the luxuries of many victories in battle. Buddhist hymns reverberated through the lofty panelled halls. Subtle aromatic incense perfumed the air. However, the mood was bleak. On a large bed, the frail figure of the great King Piyadasi Ashoka lay dying. The room was opulent, with thick rugs on the marble floor and beautiful tapestries on the panelled walls. The high ceiling was adorned with intricate carvings of Buddhist Dhamma teachings. Surrounded by his most trusted ministers, his wives and his loyal servants, the emperor was taking his last few breaths.
Within his line of vision, the king could barely make out the smoky shape of a warrior hovering above. He blinked repeatedly, as though wishing the presence away. But the ghost of the warrior remained. It watched the dying king. The heat of the warrior s rage penetrated deep into the king s soul. Who are you? the king asked in a trembling voice. Are you my conscience gnawing at me again? Leave me alone!
The Kalinga king sheltered you before you inherited your kingdom, yet you invaded our people. You are a cruel and ruthless man, a heartless being. Your legacy shall suffer as brutal a defeat, the warrior spirit roared, flitting around the king, unseen by the others.
A feverish and delirious Ashoka mumbled incoherently, I did not mean to destroy your kingdom. I apologize to you and your king, oh great warrior spirit. Not a day passes that I do not feel remorse for my actions. I have changed, and have not killed a living being since. I have built edicts to spread the word of peace and love.
Hah! But it has gone down in history that the Kalingans were defeated by the Mauryans. You were blinded by power. I do not accept your apology. My spirit is restless. It will exact revenge for your deeds!
Please don t-
Die Chandashoka, die! Your empire, your children, they are all cursed. The world may think of you as a worthy king, but you brought shame upon us. Your people look up to you as the righteous one, as the pious, non-violent king. But they must know the truth. I shall make sure the world knows that your mammoth destruction of my people was a cruel, selfish and deplorable act. You have unfairly used knowledge from the ancient scriptures to conduct mass slaughter. I shall destroy your legacy, Chandashoka! You will never rest, just as I have never rested! His words were severe. The king could not take it any more. Ready to face his destiny, Ashoka breathed his last. As his clasped hands fell open, a small wooden chakra-the wheel of life-fell to the floor with a rattle.
1
Tejaswi
Mayong, Assam Present day
Through shadowy winding paths, Tejaswi hurried purposefully to the small hut. She moved as if one with the night, cloaked in a dark shawl, a patch covering her right eye. The moonless night amplified the ghostly silence and edgy darkness. She reached a deserted house and pushed open the door. There was darkness within, except for a pair of malevolent eyes that glittered in the gloom. A wrinkled hand grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her inside. She had come to visit a witch, a tall black-clad, wild-haired woman of the Ojaa tribe. Tejaswi s keen sense picked up another presence in the room apart from the woman.
Do you believe in ghosts? the Ojaa witch asked in a hiss, studying her as if she were prey.
Yes, I do, Tejaswi replied in a steady voice.
Sitting there in that hut in the middle of a small insignificant village in the Brahmaputra Valley, Tejaswi was determined to plug the panic convulsing in the pit of her stomach. She did not quail when she felt the tendrils of something cold caress her skin. It sent chills up her ankles. What she faced now was nothing compared to what she had experienced in the last month. Tejaswi would have been a trembling mass of flesh before her father was brutally killed, but now, she carried a dead weight inside her. It was like she had been consumed by hate and anger and the bitter desire for black revenge. The flash of memories that snapped in and out of her consciousness made her more determined. Her life was ruined because of one man. And he would pay. She would make him. No matter what. The thought alone made her shiver with pleasure. Rage is better suppressed and more powerful when it waits for the right time to vent itself.
The Ojaa witch pointed a blade towards Tejaswi s eyepatch and asked, What s with the eyepatch? Her tone conveyed no sympathy but mild curiosity only.
Lost it in a freak accident when I was a kid, Tejaswi said, pressing the patch.
The dark-skinned occult practitioner stared hard. Your one good eye projects the intensity of a strong soul. She wore thick anklets and metal toe-rings shaped like skulls. Black kohl bordered the deep pools of her eyes. Inducing fear is the ultimate power over the human mind. Do you not fear me? Tejaswi could smell her when she drew close, like a dug-up grave. She heard something rustle above her but didn t flinch. I can slit your throat and use your blood for my rituals. Your body will disappear, no one will know you were ever here
Tejaswi stood her ground, fists clenched, matching her intensity of emotion. She gazed at the witch as though through a lens. The memories of losing her father clamped her jaw and lifted her head in defiance. Her insides quivered out of anger as she stood alone in that thatched hut, face-to-face with the ash-smeared witch whose eyes were gleaming with carnivorous strength. I do not fear you. I have come a long way to find you. And I have come to your village of black magic with a purpose. I know you can give me the power to defeat the man who-
Revenge has tremendous power. Revenge leads the human race to carry out heinous acts. You are a woman, easily swayed, easy to manipulate-you don t deserve my black energy. The witch s voice boomed as she whirled about.
Tejaswi s anger burst through and she shouted, I want this energy now! You are a fake if you cannot give it to me. I shall find another! Tejaswi was about to leave when the Ojaa witch turned abruptly and gripped her wrist. She pulled hard, leading her into an inner sanctum, past the back door of the hut. The cave-like area had appeared out of nowhere, defying reality. It was a dark dank labyrinth. Tejaswi s eye adjusted to the darkness. The walls were uneven and damp from unknown origins of water. At the centre of the ground, a black sculpted crystal, oval in shape and carved with an animal face, protruded. It was generously smeared with vermilion. The Ojaa witch sat cross-legged, perpendicular to the deity. In front of the stone, a wick burned inside a skull, offering a weak glow. She pulled Tejaswi down to sit next to her on the floor. Between them was a low wooden platform covered with a black cloth. Placed atop it were a copper bowl, two amulets, a black crow s feather, crystals, a bowl of ash and a freshly decapitated rooster. Blood oozed and dripped down the table. The Ojaa witch looked at Tejaswi. I will give you what you want, but remember, there is no turning back from the black strength. I give you one last chance to think about whether you want this power or not.
I have come for your power. There is no other way for me to get justice! she said determinedly.
Then focus on your anger, on the man you want to hurt. Remember, there is no turning back. Once I invoke the spirits you will have to accept the consequences and you will have to offer up whatever they ask for. These spirits do not return without sacrifice.
I brought some money. Tejaswi removed some crumpled notes and placed them in front of the woman.
The laughter was harsh and wild, like a hyena s. She pushed the money aside. No! That is not what the spirits demand. They will want to use you and with their strength, you will have unlimited power. They want something in return, are you willing to take the risk?
What risk? Tejaswi stared at the woman angrily. My life is over. When I went to the police, they harassed me; the murderer sent goons to destroy my shop and threatened to kill me.
The woman raised her hand. These spirits want the human mind, the human heart. They are restless, ancient and desperate to fulfil their purpose. They ve hovered on the earthly plane for thousands of years for the opportunity. People like you are the ones they choose.
I will face the co