Читать книгу The Tara Trilogy 3-Book Bundle - Mahtab Narsimhan - Страница 14

Three large men with translucent green skin stood blocking the entrance. A foul smell emanating from them permeated every corner of the cave, making Tara nauseous. The men bared their broken, yellow teeth and grunted.

The Vetalas, thought Tara. He’s sent them to kill us.

“What do you want?” asked Tara in a shaky voice.

Up close, they were so ugly that it almost hurt to keep eye contact. Each of the men had a deep gash on his forehead. Their eyes were black, as if having seen some terrible sight, the whites had dissolved completely.

The men grunted and advanced, one large, backward-turned foot at a time. They converged on Tara and Ananth, blocking escape.

Ananth inched backward and grabbed a burning twig from the fire. He scooped it up and threw it into the face of the nearest Vetala. The man swept it aside without any effort and continued advancing.

“Listen to me,” pleaded Tara. “We have not harmed you in any way. Please spare us.”

No reaction. Grunting, the Vetalas advanced.

Ananth launched himself at the nearest Vetala and started clawing at his face, while Tara flung whatever she could at them: pots, rocks, shoes, burning twigs. One of the twigs landed on the clothes of the Vetala closest to her and he lit up like a torch. He rolled on the ground, screaming in agony. His companions ignored him. The burning Vetala grunted and shrieked so loudly that Tara’s ears were ringing. The fire engulfed him rapidly, and within moments he was a charred lump of sickly smelling flesh.

That left two. Enraged, the remaining Vetalas lunged at Tara and Ananth.

“Ananth, help,” croaked Tara as rough hands closed tightly around her throat.

But Ananth had his hands full trying to prevent the other Vetala from getting a grip around his own neck. Tara kicked weakly as the cave started to go black.

Suddenly, Ananth twisted out of the grip of the Vetala he had been grappling with and made a dash for the entrance of the cave, which was unguarded.

He’s running away, thought Tara as she gasped for breath. He’s leaving me with these monsters.

Panic hammered at her chest. She was all alone!

“Ananth!” she started to yell, but no sound came out as she fought for breath. The green monster followed Ananth outside. Someone yelled, there was scuffling, and then silence. A sweat-soaked Ananth came dashing back into the cave as Tara still struggled with her attacker.

With a running leap, Ananth jumped onto the Vetala’s back, clawing at his eyes.

“Aaaargh,” the Vetala yelled. It reached back and slashed at Ananth’s exposed face with long and dirty fingernails.

“Tara, the fire,” gasped Ananth, starting to tire as the Vetala bucked and jumped.

Tara reached for the largest burning log and dragged it out of the fire. The burning wood singed her palms, but she did not feel a thing. She dropped the wood onto the Vetala’s feet as he struggled with Ananth. The stench of scorching flesh filled the cave. Howling, the Vetala ran for freedom. Ananth jumped off and the shrieking Vetala disappeared into the night.

For a moment, there was silence. Tara sat up and dragged herself toward Ananth, who was lying still. He was bleeding profusely from the numerous cuts and scrapes on his arms and face. There was a particularly deep and ugly scratch on his right check that looked very painful.

“Ananth, are you all right?”

“Water,” he croaked.

Tara ran to get the animal skin and brought it to him. She poured the cool water into his mouth, trying not to look too horrified at the bruises and cuts he had suffered. Revived, Ananth managed to crawl over to the bedding and collapsed on it. Tara built up the fire, all the while darting anxious looks at Ananth. She was lucky to have escaped with nothing more than a few scratches. Ananth had saved her. She dipped a cloth in water and started cleaning Ananth’s wounds. Guilt coursed through her veins when she realized that he had saved her life and she had thought he was going to abandon her. What a suspicious fool I am, she chided herself bitterly as her hands moved gently across Ananth’s face.

“Owww, ouch,” came a steady stream from Ananth.

“Just a bit more, Ananth. Keep still.”

He opened his eyes gradually.

“Tara, I’m hurting all over. It feels like I’m on fire. What if I ...”

“Shhh. Don’t talk.”

In a short while, she had cleaned up all his bruises as best as she could, though his face was starting to swell up and the cut on his cheek was an angry red, bursting at the seams.

“Not him too, Lord. You can’t do this to me,” she muttered.

As the night progressed, Ananth got worse. His skin was flushed and hot. A sudden fear gripped her as she realized that, once again, she was all alone, and it was up to her to save their lives and find her grandfather. The walls of the cave seemed to be closing in on her, squeezing all the air out. Get a grip, said a stern voice in her head. You start panicking at the first sign of trouble. You don’t have that luxury right now. Both your lives are in your hands.

Yes, she thought. I have to think clearly. Make some medicine to fight the poison, yes that’s it. Tulsi, ritha, amla, and neem.

She realized with a sick feeling that she did not have any neem leaves. Doesn’t matter. Just make the best of what you have. Hurry ... you don’t have time, said the little voice.

With shaking hands she put the remaining water to boil and tipped the precious herbs into it. She kept checking on Ananth every few minutes. He was delirious.

“Ananth, talk to me. Say something,” she begged as she blew on the infusion. Tears leaked out as she realized it had been a while since Ananth had last spoken. Some of her tears plopped into the cooling water. I hope the salt does not ruin the medicine, she thought, blowing hard to cool the concoction.

She ran to Ananth and, cradling his head in her lap, she tried to force his pale lips open to pour the liquid in. He did not respond at all, and she had to squeeze it into his mouth a few drops at a time. A sense of déjà vu came upon her as she prayed and cried alternately. The night was long. Ananth thrashed restlessly, the cut on his face becoming more livid and swollen, so that his cheek looked like a ripe fig about to burst.

In the quiet hours between night and dawn, Ananth stopped thrashing and Tara could feel the life seep out of him, as water from a cracked cup.

She bent low and gazed at his face. His mouth opened and he sighed very deeply.

“NO!” she cried out as she felt the last breath escape his body. “I will not lose you, too.”

His face was serene as the pain left him. Tara hugged him to her, sobbing fiercely, hoping by some miracle to infuse life into him. It was the hour before dawn and there was a pin-drop silence. Suddenly, she heard the clip-clop of hooves. A greenish light appeared at the mouth of the cave. Tara clutched Ananth tightly to her. As she stared at the mouth of the cave through tear-blurred eyes, she had a terrible premonition of what she was about to see. Lord Yama, the God of Death, stepped in. His enormous green body filled the cave and he carried a black mace slung over his shoulder.

“Let him go, Tara. Ananth is now mine.”

“NO!” shrieked Tara. “He was fighting to save my life. You cannot take him. Bring him back to life.”

“He is dead, Tara, and therefore mine. Give me his body and go your own way.”

“NO! I am not leaving him.”

Lord Yama got off the red bull and approached Tara.

“Stay away!” Tara yelled.

Lord Yama raised his hand, and Tara felt her strength drain away. Lord Yama gently lifted Ananth’s body and walked to where the bull stood still, swishing its tail.

Tara hobbled after him and fell at his feet, begging and babbling.

“Please don’t take him. This is the last person I have in the world. Please spare him. Someone, anyone, help me ...”

Lord Yama looked at her and the harsh lines on his face softened.

“Tara, death of a loved one is always hard to bear. There is nothing you or I can do. Be brave and get on with your life.”

He got astride the bull and started to move away from her.

Tara jumped up. The story of Savitri and Satyaban flashed through her mind. She knew what she had to do. She followed the greenish glow and the sound of the bull’s hooves out of the cave and down the steep mountainside.

Lord Yama heard her following and called out.

“Go back. You cannot follow us.”

A cold wind froze the tears on her cheeks and numbed her hands and feet, but she kept walking.

“Go back, Tara. He is dead and you are not.”

“If Savitri could follow her husband and get him back, then I can get my brother back,” replied Tara. “I am not turning back. Do what you will.”

“That was just a story, Tara, and stories do not come true. You are making me very angry.”

With a roar, Lord Yama got off the bull and strode up to Tara. At each step he grew larger and looked more forbidding than ever with his green skin, his long hair, his stern expression, and his massive hands clenched into fists. He towered over Tara and brought his face inches away from hers and thundered,

“GO AWAY OR ELSE!”

Tara cowered before him. But she did not run away.

“Kill me and put me out of my misery,” she yelled. “I do not want to live all alone. I have lost everyone I’ve loved. What is the point of my going on?”

She sank down on her knees, her body wracked with sobs. She heard Lord Yama walk away. The sound of the bull’s hooves started up again. The chill in her heart overflowed and spread to the rest of her body.

Clop, clop, clop.

Silence.

Tara looked up, not daring to believe her ears. Lord Yama dismounted and came back to her. He knelt and stroked her hair.

“I can see that you are brave and loyal. Any other person would have run away, but you held your ground. You truly care about Ananth do you not?”

“He is my brother. I have already lost one. I’d rather die than lose another.”

“I will give you a chance to win his life back. But it is going to be very tough. Are you prepared?”

“Yes,” she said in a shaky voice. What did he have in store for her?

“There is a cave that leads deep down into the heart of the largest mountain in the Shivalik Hills: the Kailash Parbat. Your task is to bring back the Water of Life from a fountain in that cave. A few drops will restore Ananth to life. Tell me, Tara, will you do it?”

“Show me the way.”

“The path to the fountain is guarded by many dark and evil things that have never seen the light of day. They will kill anyone who tries to get past them. There is no guarantee you will come back. I may then have to collect another body: yours!”

“I am ready, Lord Yama. I want to be with my brother, in life or in death.”

“Such bravery in one so young! This deserves a fighting chance,” he said, stroking his chin, speaking to himself. “I have met so many cowards and unscrupulous people lately that your loyalty and courage have touched my heart.”

Tara stood still. Her heart was pounding so hard that the sound was deafeningly loud in her ears.

“Tara, listen to me carefully. I am going to give you some words of advice — three things that you must remember. You will have to decide how and when to use them. Remember them well, and perhaps they will save your life.”

Tara nodded.

“The first is: People are not as they appear on the surface. Trust your heart, not your eyes.”

Tara repeated it after him till she had memorized it.

“The second is: Sometimes the right way is the most difficult, while the wrong way, the most easy and tempting. Make your choice wisely.”

Lord Yama looked at Tara as she repeated the sentence, her face screwed up in concentration.

“The third is: Help a person in need. You may end up helping yourself.

“Do you remember everything?” he asked.

“Yes, Lord Yama, I do. Thank you for the chance to save my brother’s life.”

She walked toward the cave by his side as the sky in the distance started to lighten and the dawn chorus started. Lord Yama stopped and pointed to a deep, yawning hole in the mountainside.

“There’s the entrance. Be careful. May the blessings of Lord Vishnu, the Preserver, be with you. Oh, and one more thing: you have twenty-four hours to return with the Water of Life. Even a minute after will be too late.”

The Earth seemed to spin and a roaring filled Tara’s ears. Twenty-four hours ... unnamed dangers ... three bits of advice and she all alone. She took a deep breath and the world slowed its spinning.

“May I say goodbye to Ananth?” she asked.

Lord Yama nodded and stepped aside.

Tara walked up to Ananth’s body. In the soft light of dawn he looked so serene and peaceful. She leaned over and kissed his forehead.

“I’ll return, Ananth, or I’ll die trying. You gave your life to save me and now it’s my turn. Sleep for a while, my brother. I will be back to wake you.”

She turned back to the cave and started walking. Her body was icy cold. Panic had her heart in a firm grip.

“There is still time to say ‘no,’” Lord Yama called out to her. “Once you step into the cave, there is no turning back. You will not be able to get out unless you have the Water of Life with you, or I come to collect your body.”

Tara was unable to speak. She turned to look at Lord Yama one last time before she ran into the cave. The dark hole swallowed her up instantly, like black waters closing over the head of a drowning person.