The Sacred Vault_ A Novel - Andy McDermott [110]
Eddie was puzzled. ‘If there’s so many different versions of every story, how do you decide which one to believe?’
‘You believe the one that you most believe in,’ said Kit with an amused shrug. ‘It must sound strange to westerners, but it has worked for us for thousands of years.’
‘It’s the version the Khoils believe that worries me,’ said Nina. She looked up at the brooding mountain. ‘How do we get to Kedarnath?’
‘There’s a path up the valley. I’ll ask someone how to get there.’ Kit stepped into the crowd, asked a man a question in Hindi - and got a look of utter disbelief in return. A second attempt earned him first a laugh, then an expression of concern, most likely for his sanity.
‘Okay,’ said Nina, pursing her lips. ‘Maybe it’s a harder journey than we thought.’
The sound of a scuffle made her turn. The pilgrims parted, backing away from an elderly man with a wild, almost dreadlocked mane of grey hair and a long beard, wearing nothing but an orange robe. He was dancing, sandalled feet skipping through the snow, and waving a gnarled stick at anyone who got too close.
‘Bloody hell,’ said Eddie. ‘He must be freezing!’
‘He’s a yogi,’ Nina realised. ‘A holy man. They give away all their possessions and travel through India in search of enlightenment.’
‘Maybe, but if I was him, I’d search for it somewhere warmer.’
The yogi continued his crazy little dance, the onlookers seeming caught between respect for him and annoyance at his antics. He laughed for no particular reason into a man’s face, then spotted Nina and Eddie. He tipped his head with a look of curious recognition and strode over to them.
‘Er . . . hello,’ said Nina, drawing back. Though she didn’t want to be uncharitable, the yogi would definitely benefit from a wash in the hot spring.
He fixed her with an intense gaze, foolish capering replaced by seriousness. ‘I know who you are, and why you are here,’ he said, his accent thick. ‘Nina Wilde.’
Nina was shocked. ‘How - how do you know my name?’
‘From here, I can watch the entire world,’ he intoned.
‘Is that a Hindu saying?’
‘No.’ A crazy smile split his face, and he jabbed his stick at a dish on a nearby building. ‘It just means we have satellite TV! Ha ha!’ He danced a brief jig, kicking up slush. ‘I saw you in Egypt, in the Sphinx. “What kept you?” Very funny!’ He laughed again - then before Nina could react he squeezed her breasts.
‘Oi!’ Eddie shouted, shoving him back. ‘Fuck off, Yoda!’ He raised a fist.
Kit hurried over. ‘Eddie, no!’ he cried, interposing himself between the giggling yogi and the aggrieved Englishman. ‘He’s a Pashupati Yogi.’
‘I don’t care if he’s Yogi fucking Bear!’ Eddie growled. ‘He just grabbed my wife’s tits - that gets you a smack in the mouth whoever you are.’
‘Eddie, it’s okay,’ said Nina, cheeks flushing. ‘No harm done, and . . . well, he’s obviously a little, uh . . .’ She tried to think of a non-offensive term. ‘Eccentric.’
The yogi cackled. ‘No, no. Rich people are eccentric. I am mad!’
‘He’s not mad,’ Kit said impatiently. ‘The Pashupatis are a sect of Shiva worshippers - sometimes called the Order of Lunatics. Some of them pretend to be mad to drive away people who want to associate with a holy man for their own personal gain.’ He turned to the old man. ‘Go on, be on your way.’
‘No, wait,’ said Nina. ‘He said he knows who we are—’
‘’Cause he saw you on TV,’ Eddie cut in.
‘—and why we’re here.’ She addressed the yogi. ‘Why are we here?’
‘You seek the Vault of Shiva, of course.’
The trio exchanged concerned looks. ‘How do you know that?’ Nina asked.
‘Why else would you be here? You are the famous Nina Wilde, you search for ancient legends and reveal them to the world. The other legends of this mountain, the pool of Parvati, the Shivalingam, they are all known. So you are looking for the one that is not.’
‘Nobody knows the legend of the Vault of Shiva,’ said Kit. ‘Dr Wilde only discovered it recently.’
The yogi was affronted. ‘I know it! So does everyone who lives here.’ He dropped his voice to a mock whisper. ‘But they will not tell anyone,