“The things I have learned are mostly horrible— have nothing delightful to share. The trick of transferring one’s spirit from place to place I learned from a . You have heard of them?”
“Yes,” I replied. “Vedic demons. They possess corpses.”
“Precisely. I use the same principle to transfer my spirit into a gem or into a person.”
“Can you transfer it into anything?”
Laksha seemed surprised by the question. “I suppose. The spirit can fit almost anywhere. But why would you want to put it into something that could be broken or something that is of small worth? Gems tend to endure.”
“All right. Tell me how you wound up on the ocean floor inside a ruby.”
Lasksha shrugged Granuaile’s shoulders. “I wanted a new life—a new world. I decided to leave India. In 1850 I bought passage on a clipper ship that ran opium to China. Once there, the owners of this ship, called the Frolic, wanted to capitalize on the gold rush in California. So they loaded the ship in China with expensive silks, rugs, and other luxuries that would be sold in San Francisco and insured it heavily.
“This was an opportunity I could not pass up. America was much newer than China, a place where a woman could own a business if she chose, and so I bought passage there too, bribing the captain with promises of sexual favors to keep my name off the list.
“He was unimaginative in bed and smelled awful. Perhaps he sensed my dissatisfaction, for when the ship ran into some rocks off the coast of what is now Mendocino and the hull began to fill with water, he did not take me in his lifeboat.
“Everyone got into lifeboats, but I was sharing a boat with Chinese crewmen who had no loyalty to me and did not speak any language I knew. And on the water, without the time and space for ritual, I am not powerful.
“As we were making our way to shore, with four of the men rowing, I saw that the men were looking at my necklace and talking about me. They were probably thinking that I could simply disappear, a victim of the shipwreck, and no one would be the wiser. They probably planned to sell the necklace in San Francisco and split the money between them.
“Whatever their plan was, one of them suddenly drew a knife behind me and plunged it into my back, while another tried to tear the necklace from my throat. In tremendous pain and trying to get away from the knife, I stood up abruptly and pitched myself overboard, taking the would-be thief with me, still fighting for the necklace.
“I could feel myself dying, and I could not swim anyway. Luckily, neither could my assailant. He succeeded in pulling the necklace from my throat, but not from my hands, and soon he gave up in a panic and left me to thrash his way to the surface, where his crewmates would rescue him.
“With my vision fading and not trusting the ’ methods in water, I had to choose between leaving this world or sending my spirit into the stone through direct contact. Obviously I chose the latter, and now here I am.” She did not finish her story with a smile. She simply stopped and waited for my reaction.
“All right, what are your goals now?”
“To get my necklace back and then get a new body.”
“Right, let’s take those one at a time. Why is it important to get the necklace back? We can go to the jewelry store and buy you a ruby right now if that’s what you want.”
“No. That particular necklace is a magical focus, crafted by a demon. It amplifies my powers. Does your necklace not serve the same purpose for you?” She pointed a finger at it and tilted her head quizzically.
“It wasn’t made by a demon, but, yes, it serves a similar function,” I replied, trying my best to sound nonchalant. All this time my Scary Witch-O-Meter had been traveling further and further into the red. The phrase sent it all the way over to the right so that the arrow was pointing only a degree or two above the axis. But I asked myself, Why stop there? Let’s ask her a scary question. “Tell me about getting a new body. How do you propose to do that?”
“In the past I just took them, but now I adhere to a higher moral standard.”
“Took them? I beg your pardon, did you mean live ones or dead ones?”
“Whatever was available and attractive at the time.”
“So the body at the bottom of the sea—that wasn’t the body you were born with?”
“Of course not! I am not knowing of a way to make bodies last for hundreds of years.”
“Of course not.” I smiled and shook my head. “Stupid question, sorry.” The dial on the Scary Witch-O-Meter was now maxed out. If I told her I had figured out how to make my body last thousands of years with a special tea blend, would she eat my brain? Had she heard me tell Granuaile about my knowledge of Airmid’s herblore? “But forgive my ignorance on this issue—when you took a living body, what happened to the soul that was in it at the time?”
“This is the question that has puzzled humanity for centuries.”
“You mean you killed them?”
“I allowed them to move on in the cycle of birth and rebirth.”
I struggled to contain my disgust at her actions and her callous rationale for them. I don’t think I was entirely successful; I saw the beginnings of a frown on her face as she registered how I was taking it. “How do you know they moved on?” I asked. “If you shoved their souls out of their bodies rather than allowing them to die, they may still be wandering the earth as unhoused spirits.”
“That may be true. And believe me, I now know it was terribly wrong of me. I have had plenty of time to dwell on my actions over the past 160 years, and I saw how I preyed on innocent people as I was preyed upon by those Chinese sailors. It was karma coming back to me, and I know it was only a fraction of the atonement I must make for my centuries of sin.”
“Would you say that your time in the ruby was a large fraction of the atonement you need to make, or do you still have a long way to go?”
Laksha raised Granuaile’s eyebrows in surprise and then frowned at the question. “I think you are doubting my good intentions,” she said.
“Given the very brief history you’ve shared with me, I think I’m taking it remarkably well. You’ve achieved a kind of immortality through some really evil body-snatching process, and you consort with demons.”
“Consort!” Laksha looked aggrieved at that accusation. Really evil body-snatching she was okay with, apparently. But then I remembered that Flidais had accused me of consorting with vampires not so long ago, and my reaction was similar to Laksha’s. That’s what I hate about the Vedic concept of karma: Once somebody starts talking about it, I start noticing it.
“All right, I take it back,” I said, waving my hands in frustration. I didn’t want to get sidetracked here. “That word has too much baggage and I shouldn’t have used it, because I hate it too. My point is that your acquaintance with demons and evil magic makes it difficult for me to trust you now and somewhat reluctant to help you. I hope you will forgive my frankness, but I prefer speaking plainly.”
Laksha gave a tight grin and nodded her head once. “I respect that very much. I, too, prefer to speak plainly. So let me make something very clear: I could have taken Granuaile’s body forcibly, as I used to do in days past. It would have been easier to do it that way. And if I wanted to, I could leave her at any time and jump into the body of anyone on the street or anyone sitting at the bar. But I do not wish to behave that way any longer, and that is why I asked her permission to share her body for a time, and she agreed. That is why I am trying to get my necklace back through cooperation and mutual benefit, rather than aggressive and selfish means. I am trying now to enrich the world with my gifts rather than spread chaos and ruin.”
“Truly? And what will happen to Radomila if I help you?”
“Karma. It happens to everyone eventually.”
I let that one slide. “How will you find another body to live in?”
“Granuaile has suggested to me that we visit a hospital where there are people deep in comas or in persistent vegetative states. Bodies that are still alive but whose spirits have already left them. Perhaps I can make use of them, reawaken the brain to a functional level. I have learned much about brains over the years.”
My cell phone beeped at me and I silenced it. “And what if these bodies have spirits still tethered to them, however tenuously?”
“I would ask those spirits if they wanted my help to return to consciousness. There will be many who wish for that. I will help them if I can, then return to Granuaile and try again. Eventually, I will find one without a spirit or one that wishes to pass on. Then I may occupy that body without further staining my soul.”
“So the immediate future for you works like this—please correct me if I’m wrong: I agree to take on Granuaile as an apprentice and help you make karma happen to Radomila. Then, necklace in hand, you go to a hospital and find a new body to inhabit. Is that right?”
“That is correct.”
“Well, it doesn’t seem to me that I’m getting much out of this scenario.”
“I am ridding you of Radomila. She is a thorn in your side, yes?”
“But she is also a thorn in yours. Counting something you want to do for yourself as something you’re doing for me is an accounting trick decidedly skewed in your favor.”
“All right.” She grinned. “I will concede that. What do you want?”
“You see this sword I have strapped to my back? It’s a very powerful magical item.”
“Is it? I had not noticed. May I see it?”
I carefully pulled the scabbard over my head and laid it down on the bar. I withdrew the hilt just enough to show a handbreadth of steel. Laksha studied it, Granuaile’s eyebrows furrowing, and after a moment looked up at me quizzically.
“There is a spell on this that will prevent it from being removed from your person, but otherwise it appears to be a normal sword to me.”
That was pretty good. She could not only sense my bindings but also determine their intent. “Precisely. That is because Radomila has placed a magical cloak on it. I want you to remove it, if you can.” I could remove it at any time with my tears—or so Radomila claimed, but I didn’t really trust her word anymore—and I wanted to see what Laksha could do. Those last three words guaranteed she would do it if she could. She didn’t want to admit that Radomila was a better witch than she was.
“Ah, now I know what to look for. Just a minute.” She bent to study the sword again, stretched out a hand toward the hilt, then stopped and looked up. “May I?” I nodded and she continued. She lifted up the hilt from the bar and peered closely at the base of it. That evidently was not enough; she closed her eyes and then drew it toward her forehead, resting it there for about five seconds. Then the mask of concentration broke and she smiled, placing the hilt back on the bar.
“Magical cloaks have to be fastened to the object, just like a normal cloak must be fastened about one’s neck. The most logical place to do that on a sword would be at the base of the hilt, and that is what she has done. She did a very good job; the cloak overlaps and there is almost no magical leakage at all. What did you have to pay her for such a service?”
“Well, I went to Mendocino to fetch her a certain necklace.”
Laksha threw Granuaile’s head back and laughed. It was not a reassuring one.
“You gave her my necklace in exchange for this cloak! I think she got the better of you in that bargain!”
“Well, she is going to get her karma soon, isn’t she?”
Laksha nodded. “Yes, she will.”
“Can you remove her cloak?”
“Yes. It is the work of ten minutes.”
“Excellent. There is one more small service I shall require of you to feel myself duly compensated in our exchange of favors.”
The amused countenance on Granuaile’s face turned suddenly businesslike. “One more. Name it.”
“When this is over—when you have your necklace back and a new body to live in—you will live east of the Mississippi and never enter Arizona again without informing me first.”
She narrowed Granuaile’s eyes at me. “May I ask why?”
“Certainly,” I said. “I have a healthy respect for your abilities, Laksha Kulasekaran. And I applaud your resolution to live cleanly and even do good works from this day forth. I especially appreciate the consideration you have shown to Granuaile to this point—and to me. But in the unlikely event you should again … traffic … with demons, I would prefer that it be someone else’s problem, far, far away.”
She regarded me steadily, and I thought briefly it was going to become an Ancient Geezer Staring Contest, but she dropped her eyes and nodded before it could be construed as a challenge. “Done,” she said. “Contact Granuaile when you wish to dispel this cloak. It will require some preparation and some privacy. Contact her also when it is time to go after Radomila.”
“I will. Thank you.”
Granuaile’s head lolled to the side as if she were chronically narcoleptic, and then it bobbed back up again with the native owner’s personality back in charge.
“Hi, Atticus!” she said, beaming. “Need another drink yet?”
I looked at my glass, still half full, and quickly downed it. “Yep,” I said, plopping the glass down a bit sloppily. “Good to have you back. I missed you.” I took a deep breath and exhaled as the whiskey did its work, burning the tension away. She filled me up again and told me she’d be back after another round of visits to the rest of her customers.