The Deadly Conch

by Mahtab Narsimhan

  Tara picked it up. Could she do it yet again? Let some more of her blood seep away? The cold gripped her heart tightly, as if it would never let go. She could barely feel her arms and legs. Had she ever been warm? What was warmth?

  Don’t do it, the voice inside her whispered. You already have the information you need. If you lose any more blood you’ll die here. Tara’s hand shook so hard that the shard slipped out of her cold fingers. The only information she had was that killing Layla was the only solution. That was not what she wanted to hear. There had to be another way. She picked up the mirror again.

  Ignoring the small voice screaming inside her, she slashed the other palm. A rivulet of red appeared, and trickled to the ground.

  Immediately the whispers returned. Tara raised her head slowly. Her heart skipped a beat.

  Zarku had reappeared, but this time he had someone with him. Someone she had dreaded meeting.

  — fifteen —

  The Wrath of Kali

  “You touch a single hair on my daughter’s head and you’ll have me to contend with,” Kali said by way of a greeting. She stood before Tara, wearing the same grimy saree in which she had plunged to her death. Her eyes glinted with madness.

  “Then stop her,” said Tara. Her heart thumped erratically, as if it weren’t sure whether to keep beating or just give up. She wanted to stay alert, but the deep cold and her lifeblood draining away was making it impossible. She curled her hands into fists. The pain revived her. “I don’t want to kill her, but if she goes on like this, I’ll have no choice.”

  “What I was unable to finish, my daughter will. I’m very proud of her.”

  Tara glared at Kali wordlessly; it was hopeless, utterly hopeless. If the very person who could stop Layla was goading her on, there was no point in talking to her. Tara’s eyes shifted to Zarku, who stood there quietly, listening to them.

  “There is one other way,” said Kali. “And really, it’s so simple you’d be surprised.”

  “What’s that?”

  “She’s only trying to avenge my death,” said Kali, her eyes boring into Tara’s.

  Tara knew then what she was going to say.

  “Stay back here and she’ll stop,” said Kali. She smiled, reminding Tara of Zarku’s hyenas.

  “Never,” said Tara. “What is the guarantee that if I stay back here she’ll stop harming others? She’s tried to kill me and my family once already.”

  “You’ll just have to take my word for it,” said Kali. “But she’ll stop.”

  Zarku burst out laughing. “Now I know why I used to like you, Kali. You’re such a liar, you put me to shame.”

  “You both think this is a joke?” said Tara. She tried hard not to scream. “There are lives at stake and you’re standing here complimenting each other? I should never have come. I should have asked Ananth to help me. We would have come up with a much better plan to stop Layla.”

  Kali and Zarku exchanged a look and burst out laughing. The sound barely reached her and for once she was glad. Their cackles would have driven her mad. Tara wanted to smack their laughing faces, but she restrained herself. It was wiser to conserve her energy.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked, looking from one to the other.

  “Ananth, would have helped,” said Zarku, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. “Ananth?”

  His third eye fluttered. Tara’s stomach dropped. Would his terrible eye have the same powers here, too? If it opened wide would she burn to death? At least she’d be warm for a few brief seconds and then it would be over. She wouldn’t have to deal with Layla or anyone else. But the eye remained closed.

  “Would one of you like to share the joke?” said Tara icily.

  “We’re dead, but we still know what’s going on in the world, Tara, especially Morni. After all, it was the place of my defeat. I’m not likely to forget about it in a hurry.”

  “Good for you,” said Tara. “As long as you never come back, you can spy on us to your heart’s content.”

  “Layla did not set fire to your hut,” said Zarku. He watched her carefully. “She’s guilty of a lot of things, but not that.”

  Tara stared at him. Was he lying? But why would he? He had nothing to gain by defending Layla. “You’re lying to me.”

  Zarku shrugged. “I’m not, but you don’t have to believe me. I don’t care one way or the other.”

  “Then who did it?” asked Tara.

  “Should we tell her?” Zarku asked Kali.

  Kali smiled. “And spoil the surprise? No, we couldn’t. That would be too cruel of us.”

  “Your trip here was a waste, Tara,” said Zarku. “The incident that prompted you to come here was not Layla’s doing.”

  White-hot anger replaced the cold within her. “The fire!” she whispered. “You mean it’s someone back at the village? Someone else wants us dead?”

  “You were always a smart girl,” said Zarku. “That’s what I admired the most about you.”

  “No!” said Tara. “That can’t be.”

  “You have more enemies than you think. Especially with all that’s happened in the last few days. Am I right, Kali?” said Zarku.

  The flesh on Kali’s face jiggled as she nodded vigorously, flashing a yellow-toothed smile.

  “You’re lying!” said Tara. “You both are. No one in the village hates us enough to set fire to our hut. They think I did all those things Layla framed me for, and they’re angry, but not enough to kill … not enough to kill me and my family.”

  “Believe what you must,” said Zarku. He folded his arms across his chest and watched her.

  Tara sat down with a thump, her legs unable to hold her up anymore. Who could have done this? Was Zarku lying to her? She looked up at them. They were becoming lighter, fading away once more. She examined the cuts on her palms; the blood had almost congealed. The mirror lay at her feet, reflecting the unchanging slab of sky. Tara closed her eyes, unable to cut herself yet again. She couldn’t bear to listen to anyone right now, especially Zarku and Kali.

  “You’re on your own, Tara! And you alone must decide what’s right.”

  Tara’s eyes flew open. Zarku’s face was a hairbreadth away from hers. His white-less eyes glittered in his pale face, reminding her of a cobra eyeing its meal.

  “Trust no one. As for Layla; just wrap your hands around her neck and squeeze hard. It will only take a few seconds and then it’ll be over. Or if you can find the dagger in the ruins of your home, use that. It will be much more effective.” He whispered in her ear, yet she was sure Kali had heard every word.

  “Listen to him, Tara, and you’ll regret it,” said Kali, leaning closer, too. Tara’s nose filled with the unholy stench of death and she could barely breathe. “And when you return, you’ll have to deal with me. I can assure you, the time I was your stepmother will seem like a holiday compared to what I’ll put you through. And guess who’ll also be here to help me?”

  Tara squeezed her eyes shut, unable to meet Kali’s or Zarku’s venomous looks. Part of her still reeled with the shock of hearing that she had more enemies back home. But who could it be she asked herself over and over again. Was it one person or a few? Tara held her aching head in her hands.

  A face flashed through her mind momentarily and she shook her head to rid herself of the image. It had been of Ananth. Don’t be silly, she told herself. She was exhausted and her mind was playing tricks on her. There was no way he could be involved. But then who?

  “You better hurry home, Tara. Thanks to my brilliant daughter, things are starting to get very interesting back there,” whispered Kali.

  Tara’s eyes snapped open again. “What do you mean by that? What’s happened now?”

  But they were gone. Every last one of them. The landscape was desolate.

  Tara was all alone with her thoughts.

  — sixteen —

  Twenty-Four Hours to Live

  “You have twenty-four hours, Tara,” said Lord Yama. “Just remember, wha
tever you do, you’ll have to live with the decision forever, no matter where you are. So think before you act.”

  Tara was back at the edge of the forest. For a moment, she revelled in the warmth of the summer night and the sweat that formed a slick sheen on her skin. Never again would she complain about the heat. It had seeped all the way into her bones, thawing the agonizing chill. She felt alive again and able to think.

  Standing at the edge of the forest, she could see that most of Morni was awake. Instead of the shadows and silence that normally cloaked the village at this hour of night, lights shone in windows. The forest seemed subdued; the stillness broken by an occasional chirp of a cricket or the mournful hoot of an owl.

  “I must go,” said Tara. “Mother will be so worried that I’ve disappeared for a whole day without telling her.”

  “That will be the least of your worries,” said Yama. He looked at her gravely and shook his head. “Why must one so young bear such a heavy burden?” He said this last bit softly, as if he were talking to himself.

  “What do you mean, Lord?”

  “Nothing, Tara. But remember, you can tell no one about today — that I took you to the Underworld and allowed you to return. It’s against the rules and would cause a huge uproar, here on earth and in the heavens. You understand? Tell no one!”

  Tara nodded. No one would believe her, anyway, and if they did, another superstition would plague her — that she’d visited Death and would cause even more bad luck to befall Morni.

  “Lord Yama?”

  “Yes.”

  “Zarku gave me some information and so did Kali. But there’s so much to do, I don’t even know where to start. Please, can you give me two more days?”

  “No, Tara. As per the rules, I should not have let you return. But you have shown such courage and selflessness, rare qualities in adults, let alone children that I decided to make an exception in your case. Don’t ask for a second more. You can’t have it.”

  Tara gazed at the forbidding face that had once terrified her. Yama’s expression was still scary, but his eyes gave him away. Even though he was the Lord of Death, feared and reviled by all, he had a heart and it wasn’t made of stone.

  “Yes, Lord. And … thank you.”

  Yama mounted his bull. “I’ll see you here at the same time tomorrow night. Do not keep me waiting and don’t make me come looking for you. Oh and one last thing …” He held out his hand. “I’ll need the conch back.”

  Tara stared at him for a moment. Then she slipped her hand into her pocket and drew out the pearly-white conch. The moonlight gave it a silvery luminescence. Tara clutched it tight. “Can’t I keep it, Lord? I promise not to summon you again. I-I like having it with me.”

  “No, it’s time you returned it.”

  Tara extended her hand very slowly, clutching the shell tight. Every muscle in her body rebelled against giving it back. Yama loosened her fingers, took the conch, and tucked it away into the folds of his dhoti. Stricken, Tara watched him.

  “Tara, don’t look at me this way,” said Yama. His voice was gentle. “You don’t need this conch. You don’t need anything or anybody. What you need to defeat Layla, you already have. You trusted yourself once and succeeded. Can you remember how to believe in your abilities once again?”

  Tara could only stare at him, a maelstrom of emotions raging inside her. With a brief nod, Yama turned the bull toward the forest. For a moment she watched him go. The countdown had begun and fear paralyzed her. She could not move, she could not breathe. Twenty-four hours and so much to do.

  She looked at Morni, knowing it would be for the last time. She gazed at the Shivalik Hills surrounding the village, shrouded in darkness. No time to smell the night flowers, the ever-present little voice said. Time to move.

  First she had to check on Suraj and her mother. Then she’d take care of Layla.

  Tara sprinted to Ananth’s hut, keeping to the shadows. Once again, the number of lit windows surprised her. Why were so many villagers awake? Low voices reached her as she sped past huts. Children bawled and mothers hushed them. Heat smothered the village and Tara longed for a cup of cold water. She arrived at the rickety back door of the courtyard, gasping for breath. The door creaked as she pushed it open.

  “Who’s there?” someone whispered.

  Tara remembered that Ananth normally slept outside. “It’s me, Tara. Er … go back to sleep.”

  Ananth sat up immediately, staring at her as she approached. “Tara! Where were you all day? And why are you creeping around in the middle of the night? Where did you go? We’ve all been looking for you. Your mother is out of her mind with worry …”

  “I-I went for a long walk,” said Tara. She perched at the edge of his cot, trying to catch her breath. “The fire and the situation with Layla was really bothering me and I needed to think.”

  “All day?” snapped Ananth. He stood up and started pacing. “You needed to go for a walk in this heat? You’re hiding something, Tara, and you better tell me what it is. You’re in a lot of trouble!”

  Tara stared at him, her mouth dry. “What kind of trouble? Has something else happened? How is Suraj?”

  Ananth shook his head and Tara’s heart spiralled down to her toes.

  “He’s in bad shape, Tara. And with the other incident that happened today, the vaid has refused to come and treat him.”

  Tara didn’t wait to hear any more. She jumped to her feet and raced through the kitchen to the front room. Suraj tossed and turned on his cot, muttering unintelligibly. Parvati was fanning him with a reed mat.

  Tara knelt by his bedside. Seeing her younger brother this way made the room spin momentarily. His face was pale. The burns had worsened and oozed yellow pus and blood. He lay there looking frailer than she had ever seen him. Tara’s skin crawled. He must be in so much pain!

  Tara touched his forehead and jerked her hand back. He was burning up. The stink of blood in the small room was so overpowering, she almost retched.

  “How long has he been this way, Mother?”

  “Where have you been all day?” asked Parvati, her voice thrumming with anger. “Do you have any idea what I went through today?”

  “I’m sorry, Mother. I needed to be alone for a while and so I went for a long walk.”

  Parvati stared at her. The next moment Tara was on the floor, her cheek stinging with a slap. “Our house burned down, Suraj is very ill, Morni is going mad and you went for a walk?” Her mother’s voice climbed higher with each syllable and yet she was sobbing.

  Tara flushed and the words almost stuck in her throat. “I just needed to think things out. I’m really sorry, Mother. It was a stupid of me. I won’t do it again.”

  Suraj moaned and they both turned to him. In spite of the fierce heat, he was barely sweating. The fever seemed to have a very strong grip on him and showed no signs of breaking.

  “Mother, you have to bathe him and bring the fever down. I’ll get the vaid.”

  Parvati picked up the reed mat and started fanning Suraj again.

  “Mother, he needs water, not air,” said Tara, trying hard to keep her voice even. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you still sitting here? We have to do something — quick.”

  “There’s no water available, Tara,” said a soft voice. Gayatri stood in the doorway, wiping her sweaty face and neck. “Not even to drink, let alone bathe in.”

  “Ananth didn’t bring any?” snapped Tara. “Why? What was he doing all day?”

  “Tara!” said Parvati. “Watch your mouth or I’ll shut it for you. You will not speak in this tone to Gayatri or Ananth.”

  “I’m sorry, Mother. But at least Ananth could have brought water for us while I … I was away,” she said. Both women were leaning forward, listening to her carefully.

  “He couldn’t because the well at Pinjaur has been shut down, too,” said Gayatri, staring at Tara. “A dead dog was found in it this afternoon. The water is poisoned.”

  Tara felt as if she had j
ust been struck by a bolt of lightning. She looked from Gayatri to her mother. “How did this happen? Don’t they have guards at the well? Who did it?”

  “Why don’t you tell us?” snapped Parvati. “Maybe you saw something while you were taking a daylong walk.” She glared at Tara, but her lower lip quivered. She bit down on it, her eyes swimming with tears.

  “Mother, I didn’t see … ohhhh …” Tara stopped as all the pieces of the conversation fit together. “You think I did it?”

  “Where did you go for a walk in this heat? Did anyone see you? I know you’re lying to me, Tara, so why don’t you try telling the truth and then we’ll figure out what to do next.”

  The room spun as the enormity of the words sunk in. If her own mother suspected her, then she didn’t stand a chance with the villagers of Morni, or the Panchayat. They would tear her apart. Why, oh WHY had she promised Lord Yama she wouldn’t say anything about their journey to the Underworld? She took a deep breath and looked into her mother’s eyes, willing her to believe.

  “Mother, do you really think I’m capable of something like this? Especially with everything that’s already happened?”

  “That’s what we can’t understand,” said Gayatri. “It’s just impossible. And yet … everyone believes that you’re responsible for contaminating the well once again.”

  “There’s more to this, isn’t there?” said Tara. There was a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach as she gazed at the two women.

  “One of our large cooking pots was found abandoned near the well. It had our name on it. Since Suraj could not have gone for water …”

  “But Mother, our house burned down! All our possessions are lying there in the open. Anyone could have taken the pot.”

  “Yes, but since you’re already under suspicion, they all think it’s you,” said Parvati. “They think you’re still possessed and that’s why you’re doing these crazy things, endangering the lives of everyone around you.”

  Tara opened her mouth, but no words came out. So this is what Kali had meant when she’d said that Layla had made things more interesting back home.