No Ro Shi's head went up, a hound on the hunt. "Something's happening."
"Shit," the demon said. "It's a hunt."
A long bell-like call sounded out across the valley, an old-fashioned English hunting horn. Where had Agni found that, Zhu Irzh wondered: some ill-fated Raj-era fox hunt, no doubt.
"So who are they hunting this time?" No Ro Shi murmured.
"Dunno." But it didn't bode well for Jhai. Zhu Irzh was aware of a compelling, and frankly unfamiliar, anxiety. He wasn't used to worrying about Jhai—at least, not about her safety. He certainly worried about what she might be up to on any given occasion, although it was true that this lent a piquancy to life. But Jhai commanded so much power, so much wealth, was so self-assured even when she was completely wrong, that the demon was simply unaccustomed to concerning himself about her in that way. The idea of offering a chivalrous protection to Jhai was laughable.
At least, on Earth. But they weren't on Earth now; they were not even in Zhu Irzh's own home Hell, and Agni—for all his urbanity and foppery and whimsy—was presenting a real danger. This was his realm, and the encounter with Krishna had shown Zhu Irzh that no one else would interfere: there would be no sudden intervention by a benign deity. Why should there be, after all? If Jhai truly belonged anywhere, it was here among her deranged tiger kin.
He'd fallen in lust with her, like many people of both sexes. He'd agreed to marry her because he'd been maneuvered into it and backing out would have been more hassle than going through with it. Besides, one had to marry someone, just to shut one's mother up, and even demons grew older and more staid. And Jhai was a lot of fun. But suddenly, the thought of something permanent befalling Jhai—of no longer seeing her leaning over the balcony of her Paugeng apartments with a bottle of Tiger beer in one hand, no longer seeing the scheming look that crossed her beautiful face whenever she was plotting something, never again watching Jhai stalking barefoot across the salt-stained boards of Chen's houseboat—the thought of losing this was suddenly intolerable.
He hoped it didn't show on his face. He was reluctant to exhibit any weakness in front of No Ro Shi. Fortunately, it was twilight and the demon-hunter was staring in the opposite direction, toward the Hunting Lodge. Over No Ro Shi's shoulder, Zhu Irzh could see an unpleasantly familiar scene unfolding itself on the terrace.
"Can you see Jhai?" His voice was urgent. So much for concealing weakness.
"No. Who are those two?"
No Ro Shi pointed. Up on the terrace, in the flaring light of the torches, Zhu Irzh saw a couple being locked into manacles.
"Shit," he said again. He'd recognized both of them. One was Go, and the other was the deva, Sefira.
Having the little deva and Jhai in the same realm was disconcerting as well. Under more positive circumstances, women of whatever species were prone to exchange information at a level of intimacy that Zhu Irzh found frankly frightening.
No Ro Shi looked enquiringly.
"One's a spirit. She helped me when I was here—if it wasn't for her, I wouldn't have escaped," Zhu Irzh explained.
"A fine figure of a young lady," was all that the demon-hunter said.
"The other one's Go."
"They're setting up for a hunt," No Ro Shi said. "I still can't see Jhai—" but the next moment turned his words into a lie.
She walked out onto the terrace, flanked by two demons. Zhu Irzh could see her clearly in the torchlight and his heart sank. She was magnificently dressed: a scarlet sari that flared at the bottom, like a hibiscus flower, and a billowing red veil that streamed out behind her as if caught in its own wind. Gold glittered throughout the weave, sparking off the light of the torches. Zhu Irzh wasn't all that familiar with Indian customs, but he did have a marriage coming up, after all.
"That's a bloody wedding dress," he said.
"If Agni marries her," No Ro Shi said, "even if he does so against her will—what effect will that have, magically?"
Zhu Irzh had discussed this with Exorcist Lao shortly before they'd departed. "It ties her here," he said. It had struck him at the time that this was why Jhai had been keen to get hitched, even to someone from Hell: with her own situation in Singapore Three having become somewhat more tenuous than previously (given what Jhai had inadvertently caused to happen to the city on earlier occasions, Zhu Irzh considered it a good thing that the local government was so spectacularly venal), Jhai probably now felt the need for a passport.
Well, it looked like she was going to get one. Along with a permanent residency visa to somewhere she had no desire to live.
A lawn had never looked so long. The world had become very bright, much brighter than it should have been from the flickering torches. Light streamed from the flowers, red columns of illumination shooting up from azalea and rhododendron, showering out across the lawn like a fountain. A bugle sounded, provoking a great roar from the crowd on the terrace, and Go and the deva set off at a stumbling run. Behind, glimpsed over Go's shoulder, the tigresses waited, held back only by the movement of Agni's hand.
It was hard to run in chains. Halfway across the lawn, the deva tripped and fell, nearly pulling Go down with her. Seeing that their only chance of genuine speed lay in dealing with the chain, Go scooped it up and wound it over his arm as he made his way to where the deva was scrambling up.
"You okay?"
"I'll be all right," the deva gasped, but she was limping and from the wince of pain that crossed her face, Go thought she had wrenched her ankle. Great. When Agni finally unleashed his harem, this would be like shooting fish in a barrel. The chain was heavy, slippery, cold. It bit through to the bone, making Go even more uneasy. This wasn't natural, it was some kind of magical fetter, something designed to hold souls, and its presence sipped at what little strength he had left.
"Come on," Go said, all the same. He let the deva lean on him and together they tottered off down the lawn toward the shrubbery, followed by the laughter of the audience. Go thought he heard Agni call out something, a mocking word, and the laughter rose. He and the deva weren't even the proper entertainment of the night; they were the comic turn. But then the bugle rang out again. Go and the deva lurched into rhododendron light, falling into a maze of blossoms, and the tigresses sprang after them.