The other howled.

Tak closed his eyes and covered his ears, expecting what might come after that howl.

Nor was he mistaken.

When the blaze and the tumult had passed, he looked down upon an eerily illuminated scene. He did not bother counting. It was apparent that forty of the flame like things now hung about the place, casting their weird glow: their number had doubled.

The ritual continued. On the left hand of the Buddha, the iron ring glowed with a pale, greenish light all its own.

He heard the words "Twice, or none at all" repeated again, and he heard the Buddha say "Sacred seven" once more, in reply.

This time he thought the mountainside would come apart beneath him. This time he thought the brightness was an afterimage, tattooed upon his retina through closed eyelids. But he was wrong.

When he opened his eyes it was to look upon a veritable army of shifting thunderbolts. Their blaze jabbed into his brain, and he shaded his eyes to stare down below.

"Well, Raltariki?" asked Sam, and a bright emerald light played about his left hand.

"One time again, Siddhartha. Twice, or not at all."

The rains let up for a moment, and, in the great blaze from the host on the hillside, Tak saw that the one called Raltariki had the head of a water buffalo and an extra pair of arms.

He shivered.

He covered his eyes and ears and clenched his teeth, waiting. After a time, it happened. It roared and blazed, going on and on until finally he lost consciousness.

When he recovered his senses, there was only a grayness and a gentle rain between himself and the sheltering rock. At its base only one figure sat, and it did not wear horns or appear to possess more arms than the customary two.

Tak did not move. He waited.

"This," said Yama, handing him an aerosol, "is demon repellent. In the future, I suggest you annoint yourself thoroughly if you intend venturing very far from the monastery. I had thought this region free of the Rakasha, or I would have given it to you sooner."