“I must see for myself,” said Taraka. “I must.”
“Do not let your new found guilt force you into flirting with self-destruction.”
“Guilt?” said Taraka. “That puny, gnawing mind-rat of which you taught me? No, it is not guilt, Binder. It is that, where once I was supreme, save for yourself, new powers have arisen in the world. The gods were not this strong in the old days, and if they have indeed grown in power, then that power must be tested—by myself! It is of my nature, which is power, to fight every new power which arises, and to either triumph over it or be bound by it. I must test the strength of Lord Agni, to win over him.”
“But we are two within this body!”
“That is true. . .. If this body be destroyed, then will I bear you away with me, I promise. Already have I strengthened your flames after the manner of my own land. If this body dies, you will continue to live as a Rakasha. Our people once wore bodies, too, and I remember the art of strengthening the flames so that they may burn independent of the body. This has been done for you, so do not fear.”
“Thanks a lot.”
“Now let us confront the flame, and dampen it!”
They left the royal chambers and descended the stair. Far below, prisoner in his own dungeon. Prince Videgha whimpered in his sleep.
They emerged from the door that lay behind the hangings at the back of the throne. When they pushed aside these hangings, they saw that the great hall was empty, save for the sleepers within the dark grove and the one who stood in the middle of the floor, white arm folded over bare arm, a silver wand caught between the fingers of his gloved hand.
“See how he stands?” said Siddhartha. “He is confident of his power, and justly so. He is Agni of the Lokapalas. He can see to the farthest unobstructed horizon, as though it lies at his fingertips. And he can reach that far. He is said one night to have scored the moons themselves with that wand. If he but touch its base against a contact within his glove, the Universal Fire will leap forward with a blinding brilliance, obliterating matter and dispersing energies which lie in its path. It is still not too late to withdraw—”
“Agni!” he heard his mouth cry out. “You have requested audience with the one who rules here?”
The black lenses turned toward him. Agni’s lips curled back to vanish into a smile which dissolved into words:
“I thought I’d find you here,” he said, his voice nasal and penetrating. “All that holiness got to be too much and you had to cut loose, eh? Shall I call you Siddhartha, or Tathagatha, or Mahasamatman—or just plain Sam?”
“You fool,” he replied. “The one who was known to you as the Binder of Demons—by all or any of those names—is bound now himself. You have the privilege of addressing Taraka of the Rakasha, Lord of Hellwell!”
There was a click, and the lenses became red.
“Yes, I perceive the truth of what you say,” answered the other. “I look upon a case of demonic possession. Interesting. Doubtless cramped, also.” He shrugged, and then added, “But I can destroy two as readily as one.”
“Think you so?” inquired Taraka, raising both arms before him.
As he did, there was a rumbling and the black wood spread in an instant across the floor, engulfing the one who stood there, its dark branches writhing about him. The rumbling continued, and the floor moved several inches beneath their feet. From overhead, there came a creaking and the sound of snapping stone. Dust and gravel began to fall.
Then there was a blinding flash of light and the trees were gone, leaving short stumps and blackened smudges upon the floor.
With a groan and a mighty crash, the ceiling fell.
As they stepped back through the door that lay behind the throne, they saw the figure, which still stood in the center of the hall, raise his wand directly above his head and move it in a tiny circle.