The Demon and the City

person whom Jhai had taken captive and experimented upon. Marvelous. She was determined to blame Deveth, but couldn't quite manage it.
    Jhai squinted up into the bright sky, anticipating thunderbolts. Heaven usually took a little while to act: they weren't as quick off the mark as Hellkind. But she was surely in their sights and she had to get out of here, along with Opal. There was only one place she could think of to go, and it wasn't Hell. There, she would be punished for her failure, and punished big-time. The Night Harbor was a possibility, but not an appealing one, and anywhere on Earth was definitely out.
    That meant somewhere else entirely, and to Jhai, there was only one choice. Where better to hide from Heaven than in someone else's otherworld? There were few histories of extradition between India and China. She would go to Kali, throw herself on the goddess' mercy, and join the Royal Court. Opal would be delighted to see family and friends, she was sure. She could pass it off as a surprise visit for Opal's forthcoming birthday, and tell her the truth later. True, then Jhai would be nothing more than just another deva, and probably one whose favors would be in demand, as a new girl, but it was better than an eternity of torment. There was something to be said for going home.
    But in order to gain entry to that world, they would have to leave China. Jhai went back inside, left a message on her mother's cellphone, and started packing.

Forty-Two
    "Of course, she wasn't exactly a spring chicken when she died," Paravang's mother was saying. "But she couldn't help that, it was an epidemic . And she's been seeing a few gentlemen in Hell, but no one really suitable though, of course, she'd prefer a living husband. Everyone would, it's such a cachet, so fashionable these days, and when I met her—it was at a local social event, they have these things, you know—"
    Paravang thought that it was a good thing that his mother was already dead, because otherwise he would surely have slain her. She had now been resident at his little apartment for a day and the fact that she no longer needed to draw breath was severely evident.
    "Mothe—"
    "Quite a small woman, not exactly pretty , but very—"
    "Mother, I need to talk to you about the money!"
    This penetrated.
    "What money?" asked Mrs Roche.
    "The money I've been giving you all these years. The Hell money."
    She was staring at him so blankly that Paravang cracked and told her the truth. "Look, the situation is this. Things haven't been going too well here lately. I lost my license—it's only a temporary thing, I'll get it back—and it was completely unfair. Some demon from your neck of the woods who's working for the police department revoked the license. So, naturally, I had to take steps to get it back and I'm afraid that meant calling in the Assassins' Guild—it wasn't like killing a human, of course. All that would have happened would have been that this guy would have gone back to Hell and stayed there. But the assassin bungled it and died and now they want me to pay. It's a lot of money and I can't afford it. So I'm going to need the money back that I sent you."
    "But I don't have it," his mother said, blinking. "I've spent it."
    "Spent it? On what?"
    "Well, you know. This and that. Things for the house."
    "Mother, you live in Hell! How much can you possibly need down there?"
    "I entertain a great deal."
    "Dear God." Paravang sank into a chair and put his hands over his face.
    "But there's really no need to worry, dear. After all, your bride will be bringing you a dowry, so . . ."
    "How much?"
    "Well, I suggest that under the circumstances you tell her how much you need, and refuse to marry her if she doesn't produce it," his mother said. Her dead face hardened for a moment. "But I imagine she will. She's really quite desperate. And I happen to know that in life, she wasn't badly off—she took the very sensible step of converting all her money into Hell notes when she realized she was ill, and burning it. So when she got to Hell, she had it waiting for her, you see? And she lives very quietly."
    "I see."
    "I think you should meet her, dear. Talk it over. She's a mature woman and she doesn't have any family, so it would be quite in order."
    "When?"
    "As soon as possible."
    That afternoon, therefore, saw Paravang once more knocking on the butcher's door.

Forty-Three
    "The Jade Emperor," Robin said, slowly and carefully, "is your father?"
    "My father,