so hard, the bodyguards looked at each other questioningly and holstered their handguns. Meanwhile, Arkadin and Maslov punched each other lightly, then embraced as brothers. But for Arkadin, he knew he had to be even more wary of a knife being slipped between his ribs or a bit of cyanide in his toothpaste.
Bourne made his way down the steep hillside from the warung at the summit of the rice paddies. Down below, two adolescents were just visible exiting their family compound to go to school in Tenganan village.
He continued to descend the steep, rocky path at an almost breathtaking pace, passing the compound where the two teens had come from. A mandoubtless their fatherwas chopping wood, and a woman was stirring a wok-like pan over an open flame. Two skinny dogs came out to observe Bournes passing, but the adults couldnt have cared less.
The path flattened out quickly now, becoming packed dirt, somewhat wider, with the occasional rock and pile of cow manure to circumnavigate. This was the path that he and Moira had been forced to take by the beater who had cleverly herded them toward the killing ground in Tenganan.
Passing through the arched gateway, he picked his way past the school and the empty badminton court. Then all at once he was in the sacred open space occupied by the three temples. Unlike the first time he had been here, the temples were empty. High above, curlicue clouds tumbled across the cerulean sky. A small breeze stirred the treetops. His steps, light and virtually silent, caused little or no stir among the herd of cows and their calves lounging against the cool stone walls of the temple at the far end, the one dappled in shade. Save for the animals, the glade was deserted.
As he cut between the central temple and the one on the right he experienced an eerie sense of dislocation. He passed the patch of dirt where he had lain in his own blood while Moira, her face pinched with horror, had knelt over him. Time seemed to stretch into infinity, then, as he moved on, to snap back like a rubber band.
Leaving the rear walls of the temples behind him, he soon found himself back on steeply pitched land. The forest rose like a thick green wall above him, like a many-pagodaed temple complex, reaching toward the sky. This was where the shooter must have been lying in wait for him.
Just inside the lowest fringe of the dense forest sat a small stone shrine, its flanks wrapped in the traditional black-and-white-checked cloth, the whole protected by a small yellow parasol. The local spirit was in residence, and so was someone else. Seeing a small movement out of the corner of his eye, Bourne lunged into the foliage, wrapped his hand around a thin, brown arm, and drew out of the shadows the eldest daughter of the family that owned the warung.
For a long moment, they stood staring silently at each other. Then Bourne knelt down so he was at her eye level.
Whats your name? he asked her.
Kasih, she said at once.
He smiled. What are you doing here, Kasih?
The girls eyes were deep as pools, dark as obsidian. She had long hair that came down past her narrow shoulders. She wore a coffee-colored sarong with a pattern of frangipani blossoms just like his double ikat. Her skin was silky and unblemished.
Kasih?
You were hurt three full moons ago in Tenganan.
The smile Bourne kept on his face turned tissue-thin. Youre mistaken, Kasih. That man died. I went to his funeral in Manggis before his body was flown back to the United States.
The outer corners of her eyes turned up and she gave him a curious smile, as enigmatic as the expression of the Mona Lisa. Then she reached out and her fingers opened his sweat-drenched shirt, revealing the bandaged wound.
You were shot, Bapak, she said as gravely as an adult. You didnt die, but its hard for you to climb our steep hills. She cocked her head. Why do you do it?
So that one day it wont be hard. He rebuttoned his shirt. This is our secret, Kasih. No one else must find out, otherwise
The man who shot you will come back.
Rocked back on his heels, Bourne felt his heartbeat accelerate. Kasih, how do you know that?
Because demons always return.
What do you mean?
Reverently approaching the shrine, she placed a handful of red and violet blossoms in the shrines small niche, pressing her palms together at forehead height,