The Demon and the City

Trade House was lying across the street.
    Jhai's cab ground to a halt seconds before it hit this unnatural barrier. The goddess gave a shriek of triumph that deafened Paravang Roche, but somehow its force lent him the strength to throw himself from the chariot. He landed almost in the arms of Zhu Irzh. Under the circumstances, seeing the demon was almost a relief.
     

Fifty-One
    Robin liked the little temple, in a way that she had never liked Heaven. It was rough, and somewhat squalid, but it was real. She reached out a hand to one of the shadowy cats that prowled its meager precincts and said, "The city's falling apart."
    Beside her, Mhara gave an unhappy nod. "Senditreya's gone on the rampage. And because she is goddess of the meridians, of the earth itself, they are responding to her presence."
    It was, Robin thought, as though the goddess had a very heavy footfall. Every step she took caused the earth to crack and tremble. A little earlier, Robin had watched in appalled fascination as the tower of the Eregeng Trade House crashed down into the street, sending up a billow of blond dust that still hung over the city, and filtered the sunlight into a prism of filthy color. When Robin had been a child, New York had been attacked, and this reminded her horribly of those scenes. Terrorism from Heaven: Who would ever have thought such a thing?
    "Mhara—what can we do?"
    "We have to find her. We have to stop her."
    And so they left the temple to its attendant cats and made their way down into the city. At first, Robin tried to get a cab. She still had a few coins in her pocket, but then she realized it was hopeless. The city was hopelessly blocked, by earthquake, by people fleeing from it to the hills, by partygoers who, amazingly, were starting to make merry for the Day of the Dead. Robin supposed that they might have nothing else to lose.
    As they walked, Robin tried to talk to Mhara, remarking on the passing scenes of devastation, but after the third monosyllabic reply, she became silent.
    "I'm sorry," Mhara said after a while. "I've been thinking. And what I think is this: the only one who can stop Senditreya is me. Heaven has thrown her out, washed their hands of the world. Only a god has the power to stop her, and I'm the only god who is here."
    "What about Kuan Yin?"
    "Kuan Yin defies the current order as much as she can, but she is still bound by Heaven's mandate."
    "And you aren't?"
    "Oh," Mhara said. "I've gone so far already, it doesn't matter what I do. Nothing can prevent me from becoming Emperor: you inherit, you don't get elected."
    "Then we'd better find Senditreya," Robin said with a sinking heart. In this world, Mhara seemed such a frail being: He'd let Jhai Tserai imprison him, so how could he stand up to an enraged and vengeful deity? As far as she understood things, only the kuei had the power to do that, within Heaven itself. And they were not in Heaven now. Mhara fell silent, and they walked on.
    As they neared the heart of the city, Mhara suddenly stopped. He leaned against a wall, his face ashen, and when Robin asked him what was the matter, he did not reply, but only shook his head. After a few moments, he said, "It's all right. I'll be all right."
    "Mhara? What's wrong?"
    "I don't know. I felt—" There was something in his face that could almost have been fear. He said, "Let's move on."
    After another hour or so, Robin realized that they were heading toward the temple of Kuan Yin. She mentioned this.
    "I know. Senditreya will not be far away, Robin. She's in the city at the moment, but I don't know where. She blames Kuan Yin for her present plight."
    "That's outrageous. If she hadn't started bargaining with Hell—"
    "She is a goddess, Robin, and an old one who no longer enjoys the power she was once used to. And she was also human once, too. She was a girl, a dowser who mapped the meridians of this region and was elevated to godhood. It's different for those who are elevated. Once they taste the power, they never want to go back. Over a long period of time, one's sense of entitlement grows. I've seen it happen. Whereas the ancient gods know when their time has come, and fade with grace from the Wheel. I am certain that Senditreya thinks that she is absolutely in the right, and that the city is hers to control as she sees fit."
    "That's madness."
    "Of course," Mhara said, and they walked on.

Fifty-Two
    Zhu Irzh thrust the dowser to one side and dodged around the chariot. The goddess was