Читать книгу Ash Mistry and the World of Darkness - Sarwat Chadda - Страница 14

Ashoka hauled Parvati up through the hole in the roof. He heard Ash’s roars and thumps and cries. Maybe his double could win, but they couldn’t risk hanging about. He looked across the snow-layered roof. There was a flattish path between the chimneys. “Come on, Parvati.” He took her hand.

“We need to help him!” cried Parvati.

“Come on!” The roof creaked as he pulled her along.

Parvati hesitated and it looked as if she was going to jump back down into the fray.

Ashoka understood. He’d do anything for the people he loved too. That was why he was here. But Parvati was in no state to fight. And he couldn’t rescue his family alone. “You don’t stand a chance down there with that injury. And I need you, Parvati.”

She didn’t say anything, but her lips tightened grimly and she joined him, hardly leaving footprints in the snow.

They weaved their way between the chimneys, and as the snow fell Ashoka couldn’t tell which way they were going. He wiped the flakes off his face and tried to penetrate the white wall ahead of him.

Streetlights glowed below, reflecting off the water in the basin. The quay sat alongside the rear of the warehouse, where the ships must once have docked and offloaded their spices and cottons from the East. The deep bay had canals branching off it and modern apartment blocks overlooked the shimmering waters. A flotilla of barges was moored up along the quayside.

They were more than twenty metres above the ground and Ashoka walked, ever so carefully, to look down the side of the warehouse for a ladder or outside stairs. His legs turned to jelly as he saw the drop to the waters of the dock below.

The wind picked up and the flakes swirled about him.

“We need another way down,” he said.

“Can’t we jump?” Parvati asked, joining him at the edge. “The water looks deep enough.”

A flock of birds squawked and clustered above them, circling and swooping this way and that. Ashoka waved his arms. “Shoo!”

Their wings were everywhere, and Ashoka wobbled as his heel went up against the low parapet wall. What was wrong with them?

They broke away and flew off, still cawing angrily as they vanished into the sky. Ashoka spat out some feathers. “Yuck yuck yuck.”

A deafening shriek shattered the night. The wind whooshed, hurling up a wave of snowflakes, and a black shape swooped down. Ashoka screamed as he glimpsed razor-sharp talons cutting through the air and the wings, the massive wings, beating and creating spinning eddies in the snow. A man’s face, dominated by a large hooked beak, glared at him. He was bald and a tuft of feathers encircled his scrawny neck. He shrieked again and dived towards Ashoka.

It was impossible. Ashoka stared, a moment too long. He should have ducked, leaped aside, but he was transfixed. The man was like a vulture, a great big ugly one. The demon’s greedy pink eyes locked with his.

The talons came straight for Ashoka, tearing at his chest, straight through his coat and jacket and shirt and skin. Ashoka stumbled back and his heel caught the very edge of the parapet. He flailed and reached for Parvati, but she was a hand’s breath too far away. Her eyes widened with horror and he tilted backwards.

The demon vulture’s wing brushed his face.

Ashoka grabbed it.