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number of people were about, priests and functionaries attending to their daily business. There were a number of other buildings inside the walls of the complex, though none as large as the main temple. She could not tell which of the numerous pathways between the buildings led to an exit.

It was a maze they had no hope of deciphering.

With a crowd of priests and touts on their heels, Andie and Cal sprinted in the opposite direction from the main courtyard, desperate to flee the complex. Startled by a hand tugging on her shirt, Andie whipped around to find a small boy gazing at her with a face covered in pus-filled red sores. She recoiled from his touch, realizing she had stared into those eyes earlier that morning—it was the crippled boy from the steps of the temple, though he seemed to have miraculously regrown his legs.

“Lady need help?” he asked in broken English.

“What do you mean?” she said as she ran, forcing herself to overcome her revulsion at the boils covering his face and wondering which of his other ailments were a ruse. It doesn’t matter. He’s just a little boy.

He kept pace with them. “I know way to leave temple. No one see you. I help.”

When Andie met Cal’s gaze, she saw her own feelings mirrored, a mixture of fear and indecision.

“How much?” Cal asked, but Andie waved him off and said, “What’s your name?”

“Mani.”

“Listen, Mani, I want you to know there are some bad people chasing us. I don’t want to put you in danger. But if you can point us toward an exit, we’ll be forever grateful. And we’ll pay you very well.”

The boy showed no sign of fear or worry. He continued to keep up as they rounded one of the buildings. “Not right way. Come fast. I know good way.”

Andie didn’t like their options one bit but was unsure what to do. She feared they were corkscrewing deeper and deeper into the temple complex, and the chorus of angry shouts was right behind them. “Okay,” she said to the boy. “Lead us.”

The boy tugged on her shirt and took a sharp right, dashing down the paving stones. They slipped between two buildings with mauve plaster walls and ran, for a moment, parallel to the main courtyard. Just before they rounded another corner, Andie looked to the right and saw the Chinese man step out of the natmandir, shield his eyes from the sun, and scour the grounds.

She grabbed Cal and pulled him out of sight. The clamor from the main plaza began to fade as Mani led them on a circuitous path through the buildings. He never hesitated as they raced through an open kitchen with pots and pans clanging, dashed through two smaller courtyards, and exited the temple complex through an archway overgrown with vines. Expecting to emerge on the street, Andie instead saw a collection of low-slung neglected buildings with pinched windows and lines of scrollwork decorating the eaves. The plaster covering these buildings had mostly chipped away, revealing a concrete frame underneath.

Mani cut through the center of the buildings and alongside a basin of green water. A lone bald man was standing waist-deep in the center, cupping water in his palms and pouring it over his head. He didn’t flinch as they sped by. After entering a tight passage on the far side of the basin, Mani opened a wooden door that led into one of the low buildings. The boy ushered Andie and Cal through. Inside, the sunlight exposed brick walls in terrible condition, plus a wax effigy of Kali impaled on a lighted candelabra in the center of the room. A garland of rotting flowers draped the effigy. Dark splotches marred the smooth appearance of the wax, and a silver bowl rested ominously at the base of the pitted wooden altar. Andie caught the scent of something unclean in the air, an acrid tang of spilled blood that caused her to shudder.

“Come,” the boy said, shutting the door and casting the room into near darkness.

“Where are we going?” Andie said.

He took her by the shirt again. “Downstairs behind altar.”

“Down where?”

“To secret place.”

Not liking the sound of that, but left with little choice, Andie let the boy guide them forward. She supposed they could see what he had in mind and judge for themselves. As they approached the wax effigy, the light from the candles allowed them to make out the outline of the idol’s many limbs and grotesque tongue. When they were almost to the altar, the candles suddenly went out, casting the room into darkness.

Fear welled inside her. She stood very still, wondering what had happened. “Cal?” she whispered.

“I’m here.”

Before either of them could speak again, a deep male voice issued a series of harsh commands in a guttural language unlike any Andie had ever heard. The voice was very close, near the effigy of Kali.

Her first thought—that Mani had betrayed them—was interrupted by a scream of pure terror, coming from right beside her.

Cal.

She started to turn but found herself caught in the grip of his arms. She knew it was Cal because she could smell the musky odor of a cheap deodorant he had purchased at the street market outside the hotel. She felt a hand at her side, digging into her jeans, and another squeezing the back of her neck. It was painful. In the dark, unsure of what was happening, she panicked and bucked to get free.

“Get off her!” Cal roared.

“Cal!” she cried. “Stop it! You’re hurting me!”

He wouldn’t listen and started to shake her so hard she was forced to press against him and grab him by the hair. “What are you doing?” she said. “It’s me!”

Cal kept fighting. He pried her loose and flung her away. Andie stumbled forward and crashed into the base of the altar, causing the bowl to clatter on the floor.

“What the hell?” she said, so confused she didn’t know what to do. “Cal? What’s happening?”

The deep voice spoke again

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