The impact knocked the air out of her lungs, and multiple bruises flared up, though it couldn't trump the sharp sting in her wounded hand. Binara instinctively snapped up her head, eyes fixed on the moonlit opening above.

She was in a pit. All around were earthen walls that made her claustrophobia bubble up.

She wanted to kick herself for not considering the possibility that the place could be booby-trapped. At least she was not impaled on a pike.

There was little time to ponder her predicament, since heavy footsteps approached her. She stilled as each thump sent her heart tumbling against her ribcage.

A dark shape eclipsed the light, and blue eyes glinted down. Even from the silhouette, she could tell that the stranger was bigger than the average human—a giant clad in clothing that belonged to a bygone era. Without a doubt, this was an Asura.

Gruff words boomed down, though the language was unlike any she had heard before. It was akin to a throat chant, weighted words issuing from a deep well of a throat. It was definitely not the proto-language that Diyan used with Garuda, which she had come to understand as the common tongue of Holmanloke.

A long silence descended, pressing on her like an oppressive veil. Fear mingled with uncertainty and coiled around her insides, squeezing mercilessly.

Binara found her voice and used her limited vocabulary of the common tongue. "My name is Binara. I'm King Mayadunne's descendant."

The Asura watched her, and she could almost feel his eyes drilling holes in her. His heavy-set build slackened.

She cleared her throat and continued, "I seek your help."

"A human maiden?" the Asura asked in the common tongue, inflected with an accent. "Mayadunne's descendant, no less? Impossible."

"It's true." She got to her feet, and desperation made her glare up at him. "I came all this way."

The Asura shifted and scrutinized her again. Moonlight outlined a stone block of a face, lined with wrinkles. The head was small relative to the torso and completely bald. Runes covered what she could see of the skin, like intricate scars, and a bushy beard formed a halo, coarse and white.

After a heavy sigh, he withdrew, and Binara squinted against the light. Wait, is he gonna leave me here to rot? Her eyes darted up the walls of the pit, but there was barely anything she could use to climb up.

"Wait, come back!" Binara punched a fist on the wall—compact earth that didn't yield. "Mahasona is attacking Hevana again! He's already—"

A thick rope cascaded down.

She stared at it. Then she slowly wove it around her torso, careful not to aggravate her bitten hand.

As soon as she was done, the rope grew taut, pulling her up. Diyan's voluminous cloak hung down in folds, swaying with each minute jerk. Binara held onto the rope until she emerged above ground.

"You are loud for a maiden your size," the Asura said, picking up a mace lying by his feet. "My name is Dvaramur. Follow me."

Binara glowered at him and hurried to keep up.

Dvaramur picked his path through the undergrowth as he led her to the doorway to his abode. Binara eyed the giant being in wonder. Each of his footfalls thumped the ground, muffled by footwear made of organic materials. A beaded mesh covered his chest, leaving the bulging shoulders bare, while coarse fabric encased his legs, forming loose folds.

The behemoth of a door was grander than ever up close, gleaming under the moon. When she expected him to take her right up to it, he veered towards the trees. She soon saw why. Tucked away beyond sight was a boulder that Dvaramur moved aside with an almighty push. A dark doorway yawned, just big enough to accommodate an Asura. It dredged up the memory of Manju's secret passageway.

Right, they probably can't open the main door every time they go out. Binara followed the Asura into the mountain. She barely took a few steps in before a fire blazed to life, illuminating the tunnel. Dvaramur had lit a torch.

"Come," he said, deep voice echoing off the walls, as he turned to restore the boulder to its original position. "We have a long way ahead of us."

"Wait." Binara halted. "Raya will be catching up to me."

"Raya?"

"A leopard. Actually a shadow wraith."

He was quiet for a moment. "Interesting choice of companion. Perhaps you can share your tale with us. We will keep an eye out for your wraith."

Dvaramur led the away. Firelight danced on his skin, illuminating the runes. She was in the company of an ancient being who no doubt led her ancestor through this very mountain thousands of years ago.

Binara could barely contain her excitement. She was so close to completing her quest that she imagined herself holding Chandrahasa, its blade wickedly sharp and its hilt shining with rare gemstones. Her muscles tightened with anticipation. Yet, a wave of fatigue washed over her. Her clock was ticking in more ways than one.

After a monotony of rough earthen walls, the tunnel grew wider and morphed to stone, inlaid with runes. The slabs were so big there was no doubt that superhuman hands lifted them into place.

The Asura paused multiple times to push hidden levers and disable traps. Binara's eyes swept over a blade tucked into a slit, waiting to decapitate an intruder, and the metal glinted blue-white in the firelight. She could only wonder at the complex mechanisms built into the passageway.

They rounded a corner, and she stared at the patch of brightness ahead—a cool white glow that beckoned her through the darkness like a moth to a flame.

When Binara emerged out of the tunnel, she came to an abrupt halt.

From her high vantage point, she stared at a city of stone occupying a humongous cavern and lit by myriad lanterns, their blue-white radiance spilling out of windows and archways. Strings of lanterns hung over cobbled streets laid out in an orderly grid while ancient buildings loomed high, all composed of squares and triangles. Mammoth columns, thicker than baobab trunks, rose to hold up the cavern roof, where stalactites hung down like topsy-turvy spikes. Stone steps climbed up the sides of monoliths, parts of which lay in ruins and marbled with blooms of bioluminescent fungi.

In the distance, Binara could make out a waterfall, which gushed down and fed a stream that meandered through the city. It was soon obvious to Binara why demons were not welcome. Protective energy ebbed and flowed through runes etched into the stone—so powerful that they glimmered white. This hidden haven might as well have put up a force field to repel darkness.

"Welcome to my home, Binara Mayadunne," Dvaramur said, gesturing for her to follow him down stone steps that hugged the cavern wall.

She just nodded and complied.

As they walked through the streets under puddles of lamplight, curious eyes lingered on Binara. The few inhabitants they passed looked similar to Dvaramur in build and attire, with bald heads covered in runes. The females were also heavyset, though their hair was done in braided buns and jewelry.

"You've lived in this place for millennia?" Binara asked in a low voice.

"Yes, before humans even learned to use tools. For one thing, as you may very well know, thousands of years here translate to half that in the human realm." The Asura exchanged a few greetings with passers-by, who were obviously mind-boggled at a human walking in their midst. "We Asuras used to travel more above ground, but now, we prefer to live quiet lives here, working the mines and growing our food."

She wanted to ask why, but now was not the time for idle chat. "Where are you taking me?"

"Lord Vemacitrin, the leader of the Asuras." Dvaramur gestured ahead. "And we are here."

The street opened into a space as big as a city square, adorned with pillars and statues—stone sentinels that watched silently as they passed. At the center was an ash grey edifice that towered higher than the other buildings in the vicinity. Overflowing from balconies were cave anemones that Binara saw on her escape from the naga outpost. Their filaments swayed in all their translucent glory—purples and blues that popped out from the stone.

Dvaramur conversed with guards whose size rivaled that of the statues. Binara had never felt so small—an insignificant cat that had strayed into a stronghold of elephants. The Asura language rattled her ears—a bass symphony that gave her no clue about what was being conveyed. Eventually, the guards escorted them up wide steps and through giant double doors.

The interior retained the geometric architecture that was obviously the Asuras' trademark. They entered a hall that reminded Binara of Diyan's throne room, except this was a massive void deep in Mount Meru—so old and desolate that it might as well have been a crypt. Sconces lined the walls, too weak to penetrate the gloom. Tapestries cascaded down columns, and even the chairs were made of stone—solid blocks with headrests tapering up in the form of triangles.

"What's up with all the triangles?" Binara asked, her voice barely rising above her footfalls.

The questioning look on the Asura's face made it clear that he didn't understand.

She pointed at the triangles.

"The Trikona stands for balance—the cornerstone of the cosmos," Dvaramur rumbled. "Whether it is a tree that counteracts the pull of the world or a mind that treads the middle path in the quest of enlightenment."

Binara's gaze trailed over the walls, all the way to the vaulted ceiling over ten stories high. As they neared the end of the hall, her eyes rested on a throne that mounted a dais. Despite its size, the wall sculpture behind it dwarfed it to a considerable degree—a triangle carved into stone, with runes almost humming with protective energy.

Dvaramur halted at the base of the throne.

A side door opened and a female Asura walked in. Binara could only watch as she wordlessly tended to her injuries, applying a salve that was cool and soothing. A herbal smell wafted from the concoction.

When the woman was done, Binara murmured, "Thanks."

She seemed to understand the meaning, since she nodded and left.

Dvaramur merely stood, as if he was waiting for something.

"What now?" Binara asked.

"We wait." The Asura's attention was fixed on the double doors on one side of the hall.

"For what ex—"

The doors opened, and two Asura guards marched in, their footsteps thundering on the floor. Then they parted, heads bowed, and made way for an Asura male whose manner radiated power. He ascended the steps that led up to the throne, his long robe trailing behind him—an iridescent blue that matched his eyes. The deep wrinkles on his face hinted at his age, and he used a staff topped with a huge gemstone that might have been sapphire. This was undoubtedly Vemacitrin, the leader of the Asuras.

Dvaramur sank to his knee, one hand gripping the mace that he propped up on the floor. A string of words issued from his mouth, guttural and strangely melodic.

Vemacitrin turned his attention on Binara, the lines on his brow drawing together. "What is your name, human?"

She realized that her mouth was slightly open and hastened to compose herself. "My name's Binara."

"Is it true that you are the descendant of King Mayadunne?"

"That is correct."

"I never expected another Mayadunne to grace this hall..." he said almost to himself as he leaned back. "And a young maiden at that."

No one spoke. Part of her wondered about how this formidable leader of the Asuras so readily accepted the fact that she was who she claimed to be. Urgency, however, made her remain silent. She didn't even want to think about what each minute she delayed would cost Hevana and how long Diyan could hold the fort.

Vemacitrin continued, "Pray tell, Binara Mayadunne, how you made the journey to Holmanloke and found your way to our hallowed city."

"As much as I'd like to, um, recount my adventures," Binara said, struggling to get the meaning across, "Time is of the essence."

"I see. You seek to obtain the great tools forged by our forefather—same as your ancestor many thousands of years ago?"

"Yes."

"In order to defeat Mahasona, who has returned and is attacking your city as we speak?"

Binara held his gaze. "Yes."

Suddenly, Vemacitrin let out a belly laugh, his enormous bulk bobbing with mirth. The resonant sound echoed in the cavernous space. Binara maintained a nonchalant mask, barely able to hold back her death glare.

"To say that humans are interesting creatures is an understatement," the Asura leader finally said. "Your confidence is admirable, Binara Mayadunne—and the fact that you completed the perilous journey to Mount Meru. However, it is hard for me to imagine that you have what it takes to wield Chandrahasa."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Binara narrowed her eyes as she pushed back a bout of anger. I have no time for this. Hand over the damn sword and drum. "If you could let me borrow the items, I promise that I will return them and—"

"Ah, it is not up to me to hand them over to you, young adventurer. You must earn the right to wield the great sword. All I can do is lead you to the heart of this mountain, where time and space are unstable. We call this place Kalacakra, and that is where you must find Chandrahasa."

The booming words echoed, hammering into Binara's heart and fueling the panic that simmered inside. As if the unknown wasn't scary enough, the ticking clock that hung over her head made her want to throw up. She swallowed and wiped her cold, clammy palms on her jeans. Aches and pains prickled all over her body.

Dvaramur was still in his kneeling position, as unmoving as one of the statues, though he watched her from the corner of his eye.

"How can I find it?" Binara finally asked, trying to sound calm. "The sword?"

Vemacitrin surveyed her. "I cannot tell you that, Binara Mayadunne. The Kalacakra is a mysterious realm that bends and warps, affected by your thoughts. You must find your way to your prize."

"Lead the way." Her hands curled into fists. "Like I said, there's no time to lose."

A beat of silence passed. "Very well."

"Thanks."

Vemacitrin got to his feet, and he strode towards the double doors, with the guards at his heels. Binara threw a look at Dvaramur, who just nodded, so she hastened to catch up to the departing Asuras.

The hallways that they traversed retained the grandeur she had seen so far—ancient stone interspersed with tapestries and sconces. Everything was quiet but for the pulsing hum of protective energy that seeped off the runes. The tranquility all around failed to soothe Binara as a hundred thoughts cycled through her head, and each step made the panic bubble higher. The Asuras just went on, their footsteps echoing off the walls, until they arrived in a chamber. At the center was a stone trapdoor, its surface embellished with intersecting triangles.

As Binara watched, the two guards took position on either side of the trapdoor. Muscles bulged as they slid it open. Stone grated on stone, pummeling Binara's eardrums, until a dark pit lay at the center of the chamber. Another guard arrived with blue-white torches, which he passed to the others. Then they started the descent.

"What about Alambara, the Drum of the Crab?" Binara whispered, breathing in the stale air. "Is it also in this Kalacakra place?"

Vemacitrin glanced back at her, his expression dark. "Alas, the Drum of the Crab was not returned to us."

"Huh?"

"When King Mayadunne borrowed Chandrahasa and Alambara all those years ago, he vowed that he would defeat his demon nemesis and return the items to us. After the battle in the human realm, your ancestor arrived in Holmanloke with the items. However, Mahasona's loyal followers waylaid Mayadunne and his allies. They stole Alambara. Only Chandrahasa, the Moon Sword, was returned to us."

Binara almost missed a step, and her stomach twisted. "So where is it now?"

"We do not know. The demons may have attempted to destroy it or they may be using Alambara as a transdimensional container. Most humans cannot simply cross over to Holmanloke. The strain of teleportation is too great. Alambara can be used to transport live humans to Holmanloke."

The Asura's explanation gave rise to more questions—most importantly, the problem of sealing Mahasona if she couldn't get her hands on Alambara. Her bones now protested as fatigue set in deeper, and she reached up for her flower hairpin. She had to remind herself that it was Piumi's, though strangely, it eased the storm brewing inside.

As the passageway took them to the heart of the mountain, Binara tuned out her surroundings and withdrew to her inner world, where chaos reigned. Right when she thought the darkness would never end, a white light bloomed ahead, making her squint.

"This is as far as we go," Vemacitrin said, planting his staff on the ground with a note of finality. "I wish you good fortune, Binara Mayadunne."

She nodded and forced her legs to move. The brightness grew bigger, dominating her vision, though it was farther away than she expected. Each millimeter made her heart beat faster, and a tingle raced up her spine. Her sixth sense failed altogether. At the very end of the tunnel, Binara shielded her eyes and kept going.

Nothing could have prepared her for what happened next. Binara screamed.