more the ground shuddered and shook. Paravang felt as though he were riding a great wave of the sea: he was picked up and flung down again. With the breath knocked out of him, he twisted around and saw that the shivering temple had become overlaid with a triplicity of images: the place of worship with which he was so familiar; a gleaming, glittering palace with stars in its rafters; and a terrible dark hollow, echoing with woe. His paralyzed mind finally came up with the solution to this curious effect: he was seeing Senditreya's temple in all three dimensions, Heaven, Earth and Hell. As he watched, stunned, the Heavenly version of the temple grew stronger, its outlines bolder and sharply illuminated. He saw his fellow feng shui practitioners, shuffling back against the meager protection afforded by the temple wall, and he managed to pull himself to his feet and join them. But something was moving down out of the starry sky—a vast rushing shape, its robes billowing out around it like sails, its immense face filled with resolution. Its eyes seemed the size of moons. Paravang, having beheld it, could not look away. Lightning zapped around its hair and storm clouds swirled around it like a cape. It was, Paravang's terror informed him, one of the kuei, the Storm Lord enforcers of Heaven. As it sped toward them it reached out a hand, talon-tipped.
"No!" Paravang heard the goddess cry. Her shout came close to rupturing his eardrums. "You shall not!"
"Madam, I shall!" the kuei replied, in a voice like thunder. The taloned hand came closer, Paravang shut his eyes and then with a sensation of swift descent he was stumbling back into the courtyard of the earthly temple. Looking up, he saw the Storm Lord's hand close over the roof of the temple's Heavenly counterpart and then the Celestial version of the temple was collapsing, folding in upon itself with unnatural swiftness as if the structure holding it together had simply become unpinned. The hand was gone, too. The temple contracted down to a tiny spinning building and then with a starlit flash it was gone. Senditreya had been banished from Heaven.
Standing in her chariot, the goddess raised her head and shrieked. Beneath the racket, Paravang detected a low moaning noise that he was alarmed to identify was coming from himself. Senditreya raised a flail and brought it down across the backs of the cattle. They bellowed in pain and alarm, and sprang forward, carrying the chariot across the gap and toward the road, within feet of Paravang Roche.
"A guide!" Senditreya shouted. "You'll do."
Paravang, too late, tried to scramble away but felt a hot divine hand grasp the back of his neck and haul him bodily into the chariot. The flail whipped over his head like a thunder-crack and the chariot sped off, blasting through the closed gates of the temple and sending them into a thousand splinters. Paravang, his mouth and nose filled with sawdust, tried to jump down, but the goddess still had hold of the nape of his neck. Her hands were huge—she was huge, in fact, at least eight feet high and built like an ox beneath the billowing crimson and indigo robes. Paravang caught sight of her face and wished he hadn't: looking into Senditreya's eyes was like looking into the pit of Hell.
"I need," the goddess said with dreadful calm, "to go to the home of one Jhai Tserai. Where is it?"
And once he had found his voice, Paravang told her. Several times.
Forty-Eight
Robin rested her hands on the rail of the balcony and looked out across the lake. It was, of course, beautiful. A huge, low moon hung over the water, much closer than it seemed on Earth, although it had been explained to her that this was illusion. If she half-closed her eyes, she could almost see the pavilions and temples that were said to lie upon it in this dimension, the Imperial Court of Mhara's mother, the Lady of Mists. The lake itself was equally lovely: starred with fleets of water lilies and drifts of swans, crossed by a sequence of charming little bridges. Now, under the moonlight, it was a world of indigo and silver. Robin gazed across it and longed for the view into her own grimy back alley. Because what good was it being in Heaven, if you couldn't spend your time with the person you loved?
She had certainly been well-treated. She had been granted a set of