Читать книгу The Tara Trilogy 3-Book Bundle - Mahtab Narsimhan - Страница 15

Tara’s eyes adjusted to the gloom as she walked deeper and deeper into the cave, which slanted down at a steep angle. A smell of decay came off the slimy walls. The air was thick and seemed to have life of its own as it swirled around her. And then there was the deafening silence.

“I will save Ananth ... I will be successful ... I will save Ananth ...,” she chanted to herself, not looking back at all. She knew she would run out if she glimpsed her freedom receding.

You can do this, you have to, she told herself. This is your chance to save Ananth. She remembered what her grandfather said to her often, especially at times when she was very scared:

“Tara, courage is not the absence, but the mastery of fear.”

The fear was there — lots of it. Only the mastery was lacking!

As she talked to herself, the band that constricted her heart gradually loosened. She drew in a deep breath and felt calmer, panic retreating to a corner of her mind.

“SSSSSTTTTT,” someone hissed in her ear. It echoed in the profound silence, and goose bumps rose on Tara’s hands.

She stopped and reached out into the endless void. The inky blackness had sharpened her sense of hearing. Panic jumped back to centre stage. She thought her heart would explode.

“Who is there?”

All that came out of her throat was a strangled yelp. She tried again.

“Who is that? Show yourself!”

A faint outline began to form. Within minutes, an Apsara — a beautiful goddess — stood in front of her. She had luminous skin as if lit from within. Her shiny black hair fell to her shoulders. She wore a bright red saree, embroidered with sparkling golden threads and a bejewelled tiara. On her forehead, just where the arch of her eyebrows met, was a red dot outlined in gold that seemed to light up her serene face. Tara noticed that she had six hands instead of two, each holding a different item. One held a sceptre, one a golden pot, the third held a little mouse that sat patiently on her palm. Her fourth hand held a lamp and the fifth, a round, steel plate full of sweets. Her sixth hand was empty. A mesmerizing halo shimmered around her.

“Welcome, Tara. I have been waiting for you,” she said in a melodious voice.

“Do you know me?”

“I am a goddess. I know everybody and everything. You are here to get the Water of Life for Ananth.”

“Yes.”

“It is a long and tiring journey. Sit awhile and rest. I will give you food and water. Once you have regained your strength, you can go on.”

Tara was entranced by the beauty and the soothing voice of the Apsara. She suddenly realized that it had been ages since she had eaten a decent meal. Her stomach growled as the goddess passed the plate of sweets in front of her nose and beckoned.

“Come with me, Tara, and I’ll look after you.”

Tara took a step forward, relieved that she would not have to go through this ordeal alone. She had panicked for nothing. Obviously, Lord Yama had not known about this friendly goddess. He had scared her for nothing with his grave expressions and his silly bits of advice. She almost laughed aloud with relief.

“Lead the way, Apsara. I am right behind you.”

The Apsara turned and walked ahead, leading Tara deeper into the labyrinth of caves.

“Follow me.”

At every step, the feeling that something was not right grew inside her like a large balloon. I wish Ananth were here to guide me, she thought. She was so undecided that her steps slowed.

“What is it, Tara? Surely you are not afraid of me? I am here to help you. You will perish without me,” said the Apsara, her eyes flashing. “Come along now, it’s not far. Don’t delay or I am going to get angry.”

The misgivings in Tara’s heart blossomed. Lord Yama’s words floated into her head, his voice gruff yet tinged with concern, “People are not as they appear on the surface. Trust your heart, not your eyes.” She had been so happy and relieved to have a companion on this dangerous quest — a goddess, no less. Yet her heart was very troubled.

Stop NOW, the voice inside her screamed. She continued walking, unsure of what to do.

Tara’s eyes strayed to the little mouse clasped in the Apsara’s hand. It sat there quietly, looking at her with an intense expression. She was surprised. She had never known a mouse to sit still. Suddenly, the mouse flopped over, exposing its belly. The sight made Tara shudder. It had no legs! The mouse could not run because it had no legs.

Who would do that to a small, defenceless creature? A monster, the little voice in her head said helpfully. And it added, in case she missed the point, she was following this “goddess” willingly. Who knows what fate would befall her if she, Tara, entered her home.

Her eyes darted left and right, trying to decide which way to run. The mouse seemed to understand her dilemma. It flicked its tail in the direction of a dark tunnel that was coming up on their right. Tara looked at the mouse in confusion. Its eyes seemed to bore into hers. It flicked its tail urgently, always pointing at her, at itself, and right, again and again and yet again. They were almost past the tunnel. Tara finally understood.

She grabbed the mouse from the Apsara’s hand and dived into the tunnel the little creature had been frantically pointing to, then sprinted into the black void. Mud and slush underfoot made deep sucking sounds as she ran. She bounced off the walls and tripped over rocks as she hurtled blindly along the tunnel.

A shriek reverberated around her. The “goddess” had discovered that Tara was no longer following her. Tara heard thundering footsteps behind her. She turned back for a brief glimpse and her heart almost stopped beating. A massive monster pursued them. It was a pale yellow, as if suffering from a severe case of jaundice, with glowing, red eyes. Two white fangs stuck out from either side of the blood-red mouth. Its black, bushy hair flew back as it ran, resembling a nest of seething, writhing snakes. With a burst of energy, Tara sped up and ran for her life along the dark and endless tunnel.

“Turn right here,” said the mouse in a strained voice, gasping for breath.

Tara realized that she had been squeezing the mouse so tightly she had almost suffocated it. She loosened her grip as she continued sprinting.

“Come here, Tara,” said the monster. “I’ll help you. Come here, my juicy little tidbit. I can almost taste your delicious flesh. Don’t go.”

Tara galloped faster.

“Left, right, left ... left, right,” the mouse’s voice came in staccato bursts.

Tara obeyed without thinking or seeing as her aching legs swerved left and right at top speed. Her breath came in ragged gasps and there was a painful stitch in her side. Her body was soaked and the acrid smell of her own sweat enveloped her. Her hands were starting to turn slippery, and she tightened her hold on her companion.

At long last, the monster’s voice became fainter and then was altogether gone. Tara flopped down, panting heavily. Water from the damp floor seeped into her clothes and shoes, but she did not notice or care. She raised her hand and brought the mouse to eye level. His eyes glowed yellow so that she could see him faintly.

“Thank ... you,” she gasped as she kissed its black button nose. “Who ... are ... you?”

“My name is Mushika.”

Tara was shocked.

“But that is the name of ...”

“Yes,” said the mouse. “I am Lord Ganesh’s faithful servant. We meet again.”

“Again? Have we met before?”

“You saved me from the cat not too long ago in the Ganesh temple in Morni. Do you not remember?”

“Yes. Now I do. But how did you get here?” asked Tara.

“Lord Ganesh was moved by your prayers and the hardships you have been through. He sent me here to wait for you. But that monster captured me and took away my legs using a powerful magic. You’re the only one who can restore my legs, Tara. Lord Ganesh’s power cannot penetrate this evil place. In return, I will guide you to the fountain.”

“Thank you,” said Tara, stroking the mouse. “Do you know how to get there?”

“Yes, but the way is extremely dangerous,” said Mushika. “I’m not sure if you’re strong enough to survive this.”

“I have no choice. My brother’s life is at stake. I cannot fail.”

They sat for a few minutes in silence. Then Tara pushed herself up. Her legs shook and she almost fell over.

“Which way now?” asked Tara, gritting her teeth against the exhaustion that was spreading through her body.

“We have to go deep down to the heart of the Kailash Parbat. Be as quiet as possible. I’d rather not disturb any of the things that sleep here.”

“What things?” asked Tara.

“The less you know, the better. Let’s go,” said Mushika.

Impenetrable blackness surrounded them and she was starting to feel its oppressive weight. Mushika’s eyes glowed a deep yellow, casting a dim light in the thick gloom. The tunnel sloped downward. She took a deep breath, trying to shake off the feeling of claustrophobia in this close, dark place. They walked deeper and deeper and, with each step, Tara felt as if the entire weight of the mountain was pressing down on her.

Splash!

Tara had stepped into freezing water. Her foot was soaked all the way up to her ankle.

“OH!” She gasped and drew back her foot immediately. Mushika’s eyes glowed brighter. Tara saw a large, black, underground lake stretched out in front of her. The water had an oily surface with barely a ripple on it.

“What should we do?” asked Tara, not liking the look of the water at all. Who knew how long this water had lain and what kind of dark, slimy creatures lurked in its turgid waters? She stood there chewing her lip, running a trembling hand through her hair.

“Surely there is another way to the other side,” she said to Mushika, hope in her trembling voice.

Mushika shook his head.

“This is the only way. If we go any other way we may get lost, or encounter a danger far greater. We have to go on. Remember, time is running out. You have twenty-four hours to save Ananth. We do not have the luxury of a detour.”

Tara closed her eyes as her imagination took over. What if there were water-snakes, or crocodiles with powerful jaws, or slimy monsters waiting to suck her down to the watery depths? What if the lake was endless and her strength gave way before she reached the other side? What if she drowned?

“Lord Ganesh, help me! I can’t do this, I can’t,” she said as she sat down at the edge of the lake and sobbed.

“Don’t cry, Tara. It’s not that bad. Do you really want to try another way?” asked Mushika, moved by Tara’s evident fear of the water.

She looked up hopefully. To their right, she could see a tunnel branching off upwards, toward light, toward air, toward freedom. She would go up and ask Lord Yama to spare Ananth’s life. She would beg for his forgiveness at not having brought the water, but at least she would not be here, faced with the prospect of living out one of her worst nightmares. She looked back and forth between the black water and the path to freedom. The voice inside screamed RUN, but images of Ananth kept popping up in her head. Lord Yama’s next piece of advice swam into her fatigued brain:

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

Tears slid down her cheek as the familiar downward-spiralling feeling of panic started, and she was powerless to stop it. She knew what she had to do. Time was running out; she had to go across the lake. Mushika snuggled up to her, squeaking encouragement. He, too, was worried, but trying not to show it. His little body shivered, and Tara could feel mini vibrations in her palm.

Tara saw a faint movement in the centre of that oily blackness and large ripples tiptoed lazily to shore. She stood up, shook her head, and straightened her shoulders.

“Lord Ganesh ... please look after us,” she muttered, her heart thumping loudly in her ears.

She stepped into the water, which inched up her legs with icy fingers. It reached her ankles, then her knees. She forced herself to keep moving. She could already feel slimy things swirling around her, rubbing against her legs through the soaked cotton of her pyjamas. Every nerve was taut and frozen, but she forced herself to put one foot in front of the other, refusing to let panic take over. In she went, deeper and deeper, till the water was past her waist and creeping up to her neck and shoulders.

“Brave girl,” squeaked Mushika, who was perched on Tara’s shoulder. He was shivering so much in the icy air that rose from the surface of the lake that it seemed he might topple over. Finally, he decided to say no more. He dug his teeth into the collar of Tara’s kurta and hung on. Mushika’s eyes were like twin beams of faint light in that complete darkness. Tara’s teeth were chattering as the intense cold seeped through her wet clothes and sucked out all the warmth from her body. Around her, the water swirled and churned. She heard splashes, gurgles, hisses. Something intertwined her legs and then slithered away. Bile rose in her mouth, but she clamped it shut and forced herself to keep going.

“Be ready to hop onto my head as soon as the water reaches my shoulders,” she told Mushika through clenched teeth.

Mushika squeaked.

The water reached Tara’s shoulders and then it went no higher. Tara kept walking, expecting the ground to fall out from under her feet at any moment, but it never did. She had reached the deepest part of the lake and she realized she would not have to swim after all. She let out a deep, shaky breath. Sometimes imagined horrors are so much scarier than the real thing, she thought. She would have to remember this the next time.

The water was getting shallower. Without any warning, a huge, shapeless mass rose in front of her and a deep, dark smell of something malevolent took her breath away. In complete shock, she took a step backward, lost her balance and fell over. The murky, black water closed over her head. She blubbered in panic as she felt scaly things brush past her face and long, slimy creatures entwine themselves in her hair. The viscous water entered her mouth and nose, threatening to choke her. The foul taste made her gag. The world spun blackly. Ananth’s body swam through her panicked mind and, with a Herculean effort, she stood up. She spit out the water, trying to control her heaving stomach.

Where was Mushika? He was no longer on her shoulder.

“Mushika!” she called out in a choked voice, fearful of losing her one companion and lifeline to sanity.

There was no answering squeak. And no light.

The darkness was so complete that she stood paralyzed for a moment, not knowing which direction to take. Suddenly, she was smothered in a wet, stinking blanket that was squeezing her so tightly she had difficulty breathing. She flailed her arms and legs, trying to get free. She tried to yell, but every time she opened her mouth she tasted rotten eggs and decayed fish. Tara decided to keep her mouth shut and concentrate on kicking free before she passed out completely.

It seemed useless. The blanket was getting snugger around her and the last of the air was disappearing. The blanket seemed heavier all of a sudden and Tara realized that it was slowly forcing her underwater. She sobbed as the water inched up her neck to her face, and she felt the last of the air vanish. She kicked with all her strength as her lungs cried out for air and panic surged through her body. Her foot connected with the blanket and then went through it — a hole. She dug her toe in and with all her strength pulled down. She heard a muffled ripping sound. She swam toward the rip, arms outstretched, black spots dancing in front of her eyes. She had a few seconds of consciousness left.

Swim ... swim through the tear, a voice told her, and she swam. Tara slipped easily through the tear and swam hard. Behind her, the shapeless mass thrashed wildly, searching for her. Tara surfaced and opened her mouth a moment too soon. The slimy water slid down her throat and, retching loudly, she vomited. Instantly, the shapeless mass drifted in her direction and she felt its edge curl around her foot. She stumbled away, hoping she was headed for shore.

The water level dropped at every step and she sobbed with relief. A long, scaly body wrapped itself around her foot, biting through the thin cotton. She kicked hard, and galloped out of the water.

Once on shore, Tara scrambled on all fours away from the water’s edge and lay on the mud, panting. Then she remembered that Mushika was gone. A sob rose in her throat and her heart quailed at the thought of being lost in this darkness and finally going mad.

Sudden movements near her chest made her sit up with fear. Horrified, she tore at her kurta. She reached inside, grabbed the moving thing, and pulled it out.

“It’s me, it’s me,” squeaked Mushika, shivering violently, coughing up water, and spraying Tara’s wet face.

“I jumped down the neck of your kurta when you began to lose balance,” he spluttered.

Tara took the little mouse in both hands and kissed its wet, furry head. Hot tears slid down her cheek.

“Thank Lord Ganesh you’re still alive. I thought I had lost you.”

“We have to move. That thing could come back,” said Mushika.

Tara stood up as quickly as her numb body would allow her and hurried further away from the water. Dripping every step of the way, she walked down the tunnel leading away from the lake. The water splashed and thrashed behind her. A gurgling erupted from the middle of the lake. Without a backward glance, Tara headed for the faint, red glow that emanated from the far end of tunnel. She squelched along it as fast as her cold and shaky legs would go. On her shoulder, Mushika squeaked encouragement, interspersed with sneezes.

“Good girl, Tara, aaaa-chhhoooo, keep going, don’t stop now, aaaa-chhhoooo.”

One of the sneezes was so violent that he toppled backward off her shoulder. Tara groped around on the floor till she found the sodden ball of fur. She picked him up tenderly.

“I think I’ll keep you inside my pocket,” she said. “It’s wet, but at least I won’t lose you.”

Halfway down the tunnel they encountered a warm current of heat. Tara felt as if she was slowly sliding into a warm bath. Each step brought her closer to the warmth and she picked up speed as circulation returned to her frozen limbs. Steam was rising from her clothes. Mushika had stopped sneezing and she could hear a sigh of contentment as the warmth reached him, too. The heat increased as she got closer and so did the red glow that was starting to blind her.

From water into fire, thought Tara. The heat was intense now, and Tara was sweating profusely. Her clothes stuck to her skin. Perspiration beaded her brow and dripped into her eyes. She narrowed them to a slit against the glare.

At last, she reached the mouth of an enormous underground cave. A huge pit of molten lava bubbled and hissed in front of her. It covered most of the floor of the cave leaving a narrow rim around the edge, leading to the far side.

“How are we going to cross this?” asked Tara aloud.

Despair and fear tinged her voice. The ledge was so narrow that one false step would cause her to plunge into that lava lake and be charred to a crisp in an instant. She sat listening to the angry spitting and crackling of the lava, tired beyond words. The scorching heat dried her tears before they reached her cheeks.

“This is just too much,” she sobbed. “I’m so scared. How many more tests do I have to go through?” she called up at the black ceiling as if Lord Ganesh was sitting above her head, listening to her.

“Tara, what do you want most badly at the moment?” asked Mushika.

“To get out of here,” she said.

“With or without the Water of Life?”

“Very funny, Mushika! Do you think I like wandering in the dark, playing with monsters and then running the risk of being cooked, for fun?” she snapped. “You know I am doing this for Ananth. He gave his life to save me and now I must save him.”

“If you turned back, would you be able to forgive yourself?”

“No.”

“Did you not survive the lake?”

Tara looked at Mushika’s boot-button eyes and nodded.

“Even though you are very afraid, have faith in yourself. Focus on your goal and block out everything else that stands in the way. Especially panic, fear, and self-doubt. If your mind wants something badly enough, it will make your body do it. Remember that, Tara.”

“What if I fall into the lava? What if I die?”

“Did you never play hopscotch or do tightrope-walking when you were a child?”

Tara gave a wry smile. “Lots of times, but I did not have a lake of molten lava under me.”

“Okay, so focus on the path, ignore the lake, and keep your eye on the other side. You need the water. The only way to get there is around the lip of the cave. Let’s go. Move, move, move!” commanded Mushika.

Before she could lose her nerve, Mushika had bullied Tara into stepping onto the narrow path. The lava bubbled and hissed mere inches away from her. Tara turned sideways so that her back was pressed against the wall and inched toward the far side, one agonizing step at a time. The lava gurgled and chortled as if mocking her feeble attempts at trying to avoid its hot embrace. Fierce heat scorched the soles of her feet. Sweat poured down her face and turned to steam so that she felt as if she would evaporate before she reached the other side.

“There you are, girl. Keep going,” Mushika murmured in her ear.

She inched forward slowly. In the middle of the cave, Tara stopped. The lip had been so worn by the heat that it had crumbled, and there was a wide gap that she was going to have to step over. She stood there in utter defeat, fear and exhaustion making her teary. A cool breeze floated in from the tunnel beyond. A few short steps and she’d be out of this furnace. She closed her eyes and Suraj’s image floated into her head. You’re brave Didi — you can do it, he said. Ananth’s face floated into her head. His silent form on Lord Yama’s bull, waiting to be carried away to a place where he would sleep for an eternity ...

No! She was going to save him.

She clenched her fists, turned to face the gap, and stepped over the chasm. Then she inched sideways as fast as her shaky legs would allow her. Within a few moments, she had reached the far end of the cave, which branched off into another tunnel. She sank to the ground and crawled further into the tunnel, letting the cool air bathe her tortured skin.

Tara lay on the ground, breathing deeply. The relief of having crossed that hurdle was so great that for a moment her limbs seemed to have turned to jelly. She thanked every god she could think of.

“OOOF ... Get off, you’re heavy,” said a small, breathless voice.

Tara sat up immediately, realizing that she had been lying with her full weight on the little mouse.

“I’m so sorry, Mushika. We made it. WE MADE IT!”

Tara sprang up, clapping and dancing. She felt she could take on the world at this moment.

“I can see that,” said the mouse sternly, recovering his breath and his humour. “It’s not far to the fountain now. Let’s not waste any more time and energy dancing. We have only two hours left.”

Tara skipped down the dark tunnel, her heart light and joyous. A cool breeze caressed her face as she neared the end of the passage. A beautiful, silvery light shimmered in the distance and Tara was fascinated. On her shoulder, Mushika jiggled, and she could sense his impatience. As Tara neared the end of the tunnel, a sweet, soothing sound reached her ears. The silvery light brightened. Tara reached the cave and gasped in delight. Its high roof twinkled and sparkled and its walls shimmered. In the middle of the cave, a fountain of silvery water shot to the roof and cascaded as glistening stars to a pool at the base. Tara drank in the peace and beauty of the place greedily. The fragrance of roses perfumed the air, and acted like a balm on her tired body as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, everything had vanished. She stood in an empty cave surrounded by darkness.

“What is this, Mushika?” she called out in anguish and surprise. “Are we dreaming?”

“I don’t know, Tara. I saw the fountain too, and now it’s gone.”

“There is more to this. I just know it,” said Tara.

But this time there was just a flutter in her stomach and not the numbing terror that she normally felt. Whatever came her way, she would face it. All of a sudden she felt a presence and turned around. A beautiful woman, clad in a white saree with intricate silver embroidery, stood there. She had light brown hair and fair skin.

“Who are you?” asked Tara.

“I am Maya, the guardian of the fountain. You are here for the Water of Life to save your brother, Ananth.”

“Yes, but it was here a moment ago and now it’s gone. Is this an illusion?”

“No, Tara,” replied Maya. “The fountain exists and you saw a glimpse of it. But to see it again and get the water, you will have to pass my test.”

“What do I have to do?” said Tara.

“Every person who makes it this far has to answer three riddles. If you can solve them, you can take the water. But if you fail, I will disappear and you will wander in these caves for an eternity.”

Tara loved riddles, and this was a challenge that she would win. No goddess would be able to defeat her.

“I accept.”

“What?” squeaked Mushika. “Are you mad? If you cannot answer all three, we are doomed.”

“Are you ready?” asked Maya, arching one beautiful eyebrow.

“Yes,” replied Tara.

“My first riddle is this:

A beautiful woman, stunning yet shy,

If she strikes you, you’ll surely die.

No one knows how or why

Water can contain such fire.”

Tara thought hard. Her mind ran through every possible riddle she had ever answered with Suraj and her mother. Something shimmered in her memory. A thunder cloud ... heavy rain, and ...

Mushika was squeaking in her ear “So ... do you know the answer or not?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Not sure? Not sure? Tara, you’d better think hard. I want to see daylight again.”

“So, Tara, do you know the answer?” asked Maya in a calm voice.

“Lightning,” said Tara, clenching her fists.

“Correct.”

Mushika heaved a sigh of relief and Tara relaxed.

“My next one is:

From dusk to dawn she stands and mourns.

Her hair is on fire, hot tears she weeps.

Grief melts her; all that’s left is a heap.”

Tara’s mind was already whirring busily through the possibilities, while Mushika wriggled from her right shoulder to her left.

“So, Tara, can you answer this one?”

“Give me a few moments, Maya.”

Tara was pacing, her stomach in a tight knot. This was a tough one. Her mother never made them this tough. Was she stupid to have taken the challenge? What if she couldn’t answer? Not only would she be unable to save Ananth, but she would end up wandering around in this dark cave forever with no lamp or candle ...

“A candle, a candle!” she sang out.

“Correct!” said Maya, sounding a bit disappointed.

“Here is the last one, Tara. If you can answer this, the fountain will appear and the water is yours. Oh, and by the way, you have very little time left to get back to Ananth. No pressure,” said Maya with a cold smile.

Tara kept her face expressionless, but her heart was hammering.

“Ask your last riddle.”

“I see you and you see me,

Alike yet apart are we.

If another person should see,

I am he or she is me.”

She waited in silence while Tara stared at her, stumped. She did not even know where to start. Her stomach contracted and her hands and feet were icy.

“Please, Maya. Could you repeat it one more time?” asked Tara in a quavering voice, hoping to buy some more time. Her head ached.

Maya repeated it again, a smile playing on her lips.

“Do you concede defeat?”

“NO WE DON’T!” squeaked Mushika. “Tara, let me help, let me help. Could it be bread? Elephant? Kettle? Monkey? Tree?” he started muttering.

“Quiet!” growled Tara. “I’m trying to think.”

Her mind was a complete blank. Think, think, think, she told herself, or you’re stuck here forever. She prayed to Lord Ganesh, clasped her hands together, and paced.

Maya was tapping her foot impatiently.

“Time is up!”

“Maya, please, just one more minute. I know the answer, I really do, I just can’t remember it.”

Maya relented, but an hourglass miraculously appeared in her hand and the sand started trickling through at a furious pace.

“One minute left, Tara. You’d better hurry up.”

Tara was desperate. Mother, where are you? If you had not disappeared, none of this would be happening. But then her mother’s words came back to her, a whisper in her ear. “If you are ever sad, look into the mirror I gave you and you will find strength.”

Tara hastily pulled out the mirror pendant her mother had given her and glanced at the sand in the hourglass, hoping for a miracle. She gazed back at the mirror again and her eyes widened.

“Fifteen seconds left, Tara. I suggest you give up.”

It was almost down to the last few grains and Mushika was swinging from her left earlobe in a panic.

“A MIRROR,” she yelled as the last grain of sand fell.

Maya looked annoyed, but her anger soon passed and her face was calm again. All around them, the cave transformed. The silvery fountain reappeared. The water fell with a melodious, tinkling sound.

“Well done, Tara. You are the first person to have solved my riddles. But there is no time to waste. You have but a few minutes left. Ananth is waiting,” said Maya.

From the folds of her saree she drew a glass bottle with a golden stopper.

“Take this bottle and fill it up. Give the first few drops to this brave little mouse here, and then give the rest to Ananth. He will be restored to life.”

Tara took the proffered bottle. She ran to the fountain and held it out. Silver stars fell in and melted into clear water as the bottle filled up rapidly. Mushika sat on her shoulder, his eyes glinting with excitement. Tara lifted him from her shoulder and set him on the ground. Mushika opened his mouth eagerly and Tara poured in a few drops of the precious water. The moment the water slid down his throat, Mushika gave a violent shudder, flipped on his back, and lay still. Tara clapped her hand to her mouth in horror.

“Maya, what happened to Mushika? Is he dead? What did you make me give him? Is this the Water of Life or Death?”

She was babbling, but Mushika was so dear to her now that she could not bear to be the one to have killed him.

“Patience, my child. Watch,” said Maya.

Small pink stubs were poking out of Mushika’s belly. As they watched, the legs elongated and little toes appeared. Within seconds, Mushika looked like a normal little mouse sleeping on his back. He opened his eyes and flipped over. Realization hit him instantly. He jumped, hopped, and ran around squeaking while Maya and Tara laughed at his antics.

“I must go. I want to see Ananth alive once again,” said Tara.

She stooped to touch Maya’s feet in a gesture of respect and profound gratitude.

“Bless you, my child; you are brave and intelligent,” Maya told her. “I am very impressed with you. Take the tunnel from the far side of the cave — it will lead you straight to the entrance. And remember: do the right thing.”

Tara, who was striding rapidly to the far end, heard the words and turned back, but Maya and the fountain had already vanished. What did she mean by that: “do the right thing”? And where had she heard this advice before? As Tara climbed the steep tunnel, she pondered the words. She was brought back to reality by a mouse who was determinedly practising mountain climbing on various parts of her anatomy.

“Stop that, you little idiot,” she said as Mushika’s feet dug into her neck, ears, and even her nose! “Enough already! You’ve gotten your legs back. They have to last you a lifetime, so don’t wear them out already.”

The air was starting to smell sweeter, bringing a promise of freedom and sunshine. Tara sprinted up in her eagerness to reach Ananth. Mushika held on for dear life.

“Slow down,” he managed to squeak through clenched teeth.

“I can’t! I want to reach Ananth before it’s too late.” In the broadening daylight at the end of the tunnel Tara saw a bundle of rags. They seemed to be moving. She slowed down.

“What is that?” she whispered to Mushika.

“I don’t know. Let’s go closer, but be careful.”

She strode up to the bundle, hoping against hope that this would not be another test. She clutched the bottle with the precious water to her chest. Drawing nearer, she saw that it was not a bundle of rags but a man writhing on the ground. A filthy, tattered kurta and pyjama covered his crumpled body. His long, dirty hair was matted and crawling with lice. His face was covered with grime, except where tears had streaked down his face, cutting a clear path through the filth. A small sound issued from his cracked, swollen lips. Tara knelt.

The man opened a puffed eye, caked with white mucous, and muttered, “Water ...”

Tara leaned closer. He looked ill and stank strongly of urine. Tara tried not to wrinkle her nose in disgust.

“Baba, I have something that I must do. I’ll be back very soon with water and help.”

“NO!” he croaked. “Help ... now. What’s ... in ... your hand?”

A solitary ray of sunshine had found its way into the tunnel. It lit up the bottle of water clenched in Tara’s hand. The beggar had forced open both eyes and was now looking at the bottle as his pleading continued.

“Water ... I don’t ... want ... to die.”

Tara looked at him in dismay.

“Not this water, Baba. This is for my brother, Ananth, who is lying dead in the clutches of Lord Yama. This water will bring him back to life.”

“Water ... please.”

His voice trailed into an exhausted croak. His eyes closed and he lay still.

“What should I do, Mushika? I can’t go back in to get more water. Baba will die if I leave him. If I give it to him, I have lost Ananth forever. What should I do?” She chewed her lower lip ferociously.

Lord Yama’s words came back to her: “Help a person in need. You may end up helping yourself.”

“Do the right thing, Tara.” Mushika’s words made her look up: he’d said exactly what Maya and Lord Yama had said to her earlier. She looked at the sick man. She looked back at the tunnel and all the horrors she had experienced in there. Could she turn away from a living person to bring someone back from the dead? If this was right, why did it take so much effort? What about Ananth? After all this, was she to lose him forever?

The old man raised a trembling hand to her in mute appeal. She saw the wrinkles, the thick, blue veins that criss-crossed under his pale skin. The hand fell back and he was still. Tara made her decision. She uncorked the bottle and raised the old man’s head into her lap.

“Open your mouth, Baba. Here is the water.”

She tilted his head back and poured the water down his throat. As the water slid out in a silvery stream, it seemed like all the happiness was draining out of her body. She stood up in a daze of pain. Ananth’s dead body swam into her mind’s eye and her eyes filled with tears, blurring her sight. Ananth, I am so sorry I could not save you. I had to save Ba—

“Tara,” said a familiar voice.

Her eyes snapped open. Ananth stood in front of her, grinning from ear to ear. He rushed to her and gave her a hug. She stood there, sobbing. Mushika sat on her shoulder and wept, too.

“That old man was you?” she said.

Ananth nodded.

Lord Yama appeared at the mouth of the cave and beckoned to both of them.

“I am so proud of you, Tara. You remembered all my instructions and followed them. Your heart is as pure as you are brave. This was the last test to see if you would let someone die for the selfish purpose of bringing your brother back to life. You are true to your name: ‘Tara,’ which means ‘star.’ You are a guiding light to all who know you. If you ever need my help, blow into this shell and I will be there,” he said, handing her a pearly white conch shell with a pale pink edge.

“And there are your things,” he said, pointing to their bundles at the mouth of the cave.

Tara folded her hands and bowed her head. She took the shell from him and tucked it into her pocket. Lord Yama mounted his bull, clip-clopped off into the trees, and vanished.

Laughing and crying at the same time, Tara clasped Ananth’s hand, not daring to believe she had survived the journey and brought her brother back to life. Hope and confidence surged through her body and she felt happier than she had in a long, long time.

“Tara, you did it, all alone. I am impressed. It feels so good to be alive again.”

“I did have some help. This is Mushika.”

She held out her right hand where Mushika sat, nose woffling, bright, black eyes glinting. Ananth stroked his head.

“So, this is your little guide. Thank you, Mushika! Tara, you have given me a new life and it is pledged to you till we can find your mother and grandfather.”

Tara’s heart was bursting with joy as they walked away from the cave. She had fought against a situation that most people would have considered hopeless and won. She had brought Ananth back from the dead. She felt up to any challenge now. And she had gained a new friend, who now lay fast asleep in the inner pocket of her kurta.

“Zarku will not take long to find out that we are still alive. The attack on us will be swift and soon,” said Ananth in a serious voice. “Let’s get to that temple, Tara. Our lives, and the lives of all the villagers, will depend on how quickly we can find Prabala and bring him back to Morni.”

Tara quickly located the twin peaks in the Shivaliks, between which the temple lay, and headed for them. It was late afternoon and the sun was already losing heat. Black clouds sailed past its face, heralding a stormy night ahead.

“Let’s find a safe place for the night and we can decide what to do tomorrow,” said Tara. “I am so tired I could sleep right here,” she continued with a loud yawn.

They walked in silence, keeping a lookout for shelter. Mushika had woken up and was perched on Tara’s shoulder, scanning the path along with her. He squeaked and his long tail whipped up and pointed. The path they walked on hugged the mountain on the right. The road fell away to a steep valley on the left. Far below in the waning daylight they could see many people clumsily climbing the slopes. There was no mistaking their greenish hue and dark hair.

“Vetalas. They’re searching for us,” said Ananth.