Aya looked thoughtful. “I think he must be free,” she said. “After he mended the Mazaria he disappeared.”
“Do you still have the amulet?”
With a nod Aya reached into her bag and brought out the golden bee. The diamond glittered in the light of the dying sun, but the speck of gold at its centre was gone.
Sharat laughed. “Well, at least he won’t have to grant any more wishes,” he said.
Aya held it towards him. “Here,” she said. “You can have it back now.”
Sharat shook his head. “No, you keep it,” he said. “After all, it’s as much yours as it is mine.”
Aya’s eyes lit up. “Are you sure?” she asked.
“Of course I’m sure!” said Sharat. “It’s far too pretty for me.”
Aya’s fingers closed tightly around the jewel. “Hopefully we can give it back to our mother one day,” she said quietly.
For a little while they enjoyed watching the dancing, but soon the music slowed down, as it often did when the crew had drunk too much wine.
Sharat nudged Aya. “What about your Mazaria?” he said. “That might liven things up.”
“Oh yes!” said Uma. “I’d like to hear it, too.”
Aya didn’t need any more encouragement. Carefully, she pulled the little instrument out of her bag and began to play.
With a growl of approval, Emira lay down at Aya’s feet and started to purr.
“We’ll have you on stage with that thing!” Lemo called out loudly.
Aya flushed, but she carried on playing, and soon it seemed that the earth was keeping time underneath them like the beat of some giant heart.
“Can you feel it?” whispered Sharat.
Aya nodded as she played. “Look at the trees,” she said.
“They’re dancing with the wind,” said Sharat.
“One day I’d like to have a good look at your Mazaria,” said Uma, her eyes settling watchfully on the silver hands, but before Aya could answer, the clouds began to roll down from the mountains. In an instant the sky darkened. There was a rumble, a flash of lightning and then the heavens opened as it began to rain.
The circus troupe moved their party noisily into the big, orange tent and Emira stalked off to find shelter in the trees, but Sharat and Aya didn’t move, happy to be outside.
“Come on! Come on!” Uma scolded them. “You’ll make yourselves sick sitting out here.” She grasped each one of them firmly by the arm. “Bedtime!” she said.
Sharat tried to pull away from her. “But the party’s only just started!” he complained.
“I’m not even tired,” said Aya.
Neither of them were used to being told what to do.
“Never mind that,” snapped Uma. “You’ve been up since dawn.” Her grip was like steel as she steered them towards Lemo’s caravan. “I’ll give you five minutes,” she warned them. “Then I’m coming in to make sure you’re both asleep.”
They grumbled as they were pushed through the door. Then they stopped in surprise. Before Mohini had come along, Sharat had always lived with his father. He was used to bachelor quarters, but now the inside of the caravan had been transformed. Fluffy white sheepskins lay on the floor and clean linen was tucked neatly into the two beds on either side of the room. A bunch of flowers decorated the table in the middle and a jug of water and two mugs stood next to it. There were candles burning in brass holders on the walls.
Sharat’s cousin Risa was waiting for them. As they came in she brushed down the beds to make sure they were perfect, and adjusted the vase.
Sharat looked around, then grinned. “Is this for me or for Aya?” he asked.
Risa shrugged. “I thought you might both like a decent night’s sleep,” she said.
Aya sat down on her bunk. “It’s been so long since I’ve slept in a real bed,” she sighed. She glanced up at Risa. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, thank Lemo,” said Risa. “He insisted that you should have his bunk.”
She gave Aya a quick smile, then blew out the candles.
“You’ll have to tell me the rest of your story tomorrow,” she whispered to Sharat as she leaned down to kiss him goodnight.
A little later, Uma popped in to check up on them, just as she’d promised. Then, once she was satisfied that they were tucked up safely in bed, she closed the door and sat herself down on the caravan steps. The rain had stopped now and it was a balmy night.
Emira, back from the hunt, came striding through the darkness and lay at Uma’s feet. Moments later, Ripiraja landed next to them with a caw.
Just then Lemo and Hussein came over.
“How are they?” asked Hussein in a low voice.
“They should be fast asleep by now,” Uma assured him.
“Good,” said Lemo. “We’ll need to leave at first light if we’re heading for Narayan’s pass.”
Uma nodded. “That’s probably wise,” she said. “Rookh may be out of action now, but he’s sure to come looking for them and the more space we can put between us and the City of Jewels the better.”
At the sound of Rookh’s name, Emira raised her head and a threatening growl played in her throat.
Hussein put a reassuring hand on her back.
“It’s all right,” he murmured. “You’re home now.”
“Are you coming with us this time?” Lemo asked Uma.
“Yes, I’m coming,” she said. “There’s nothing left for me in the City of Jewels. Besides, those children need an education. They’ve both been running wild for far too long.”
Lemo smiled. “It will be good to have you back.” He put out a hand to the old woman. “Come on,” he said. “Emira can look after them. Let’s find you a bed.”
With a grumble, Uma got to her feet.
Inside the caravan, Sharat and Aya were lying in their bunks, but they weren’t asleep yet.
“I can’t believe we made it,” Aya whispered into the darkness.
“I always knew I’d find Emira,” said Sharat, “but I couldn’t have done it without you.”
Aya smiled, but there was something that had been troubling her.
“I wonder what’s happened to Kalki?” she said. “Do you think he’ll come back when you’re grown up, like Vasuki told us?”
Sharat hesitated. He couldn’t remember much about being the Prince of Jinnis. “I don’t know,” he said with a sigh. “I don’t want to think about that now. All I want to do now is settle back into life at the circus.”
Still, he couldn’t help feeling a sense of wonder as he put his hand up to touch the seed that was tucked safely into a pouch strung around his neck. His heart was filled with love as he remembered the Queen of the Forest. His mother. Perhaps one day, when he had planted this seed he would see her again. He hoped so.
In her own bunk, Aya’s thoughts had turned unbidden to her terrible secret.
“What do you think will happen to Doctor Rookh?” she asked.
Sharat hesitated for a moment. “Do you care?”
“No!” said Aya, her voice fierce. “I hope I never see him again.”
“Then you don’t have to,” Sharat assured her. “The circus is your home now. We’ll look after you.”
Aya’s reply was inaudible. He heard her stifle a yawn.
Smiling, he turned over, wriggling to make himself more comfortable. It was so nice to be back in his own bunk and tomorrow he would go out hunting with Emira just as he always had. Muttering goodnight he closed his eyes and soon he too was drifting off to sleep.
Outside, the wind blew away the clouds and a crescent moon shone its light on the living earth. For a while a few of the circus crew remained around the camp-fire talking quietly, but it wasn’t long before even the stragglers wandered off to their tents.
From her place under the caravan, Emira let out a sigh. All was still. It seemed nothing could disturb the peace of the night. But still the tiger didn’t sleep. Instead she sat like a sentinel, her eyes glinting in the moonl
ight as she turned her head to face the valley below.
Copyright
First published in the UK in 2013 by Nosy Crow Ltd
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London, SE1 1QR, UK
This ebook edition first published in 2013
Nosy Crow and associated logos are trademarks and / or registered trademarks of Nosy Crow Ltd
Text copyright © Michaela Clarke, 2013
Cover illustration © Dominic Harman, 2013
Cover and inside pattern and typography © Sarah Coleman, 2013
The right of Michaela Clarke to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved.
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictiously. Any resemblence to actual people, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
ISBN: 978 0 85763 067 4
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