The Silver Anklet

by Mahtab Narsimhan

  Sadia’s head lolled back and she started to fall sideways again. Tara grabbed her and shook her a little harder this time. “Come on now, you have to help me. Wake up!”

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw Zarku take a few steps toward them. “Slap her!” he said.

  Sadia opened her eyes. They were unfocused. Tara hugged her. “Good girl, now stand up. We have a short little walk and then you can sleep again,”

  “So … tired,” said Sadia. “Want to sleep.”

  “I know,” said Tara, kissing her forehead. “But after this, you can sleep for a long time. I promise.”

  Sadia got to her feet, lurching, swaying, almost falling over. Tara’s heart lurched in tandem. If she did this on that narrow walkway, they’d all plunge to their deaths.

  “Slowly now,” said Tara. She led Sadia to the narrow bridge.

  Tara and Kali held Sadia between them. Zarku was already halfway across. Kali stepped on it sideways, holding Sadia by her left arm. Tara followed, firmly gripping Sadia’s right arm.

  “Where are we?” Sadia whispered. Her eyes were beginning to focus.

  Don’t let her realize, prayed Tara. The last thing she wanted was for Sadia to panic right there in the middle of the bridge.

  “Noooooo!” wailed Sadia. Her eyes were wide open and she was frozen on the spot, looking down. “Where am I?”

  Tara glanced beyond the tips of her toes. The blackness seemed to bubble up toward her, trying to suck her down. She took a deep, shuddering breath and wrenched her eyes away from it.

  “You can do it, Sadia,” said Tara. “Just don’t look down.”

  “If she acts funny, I’ll push her over,” said Kali. Her face was whiter than the limestone they had passed.

  Tara’s arms ached trying to hold Sadia still. A cold panic seized her and it was all she could do to hang on as the little girl grew more agitated.

  Sadia tensed. Tara tightened her grip. Sadia put her foot forward instead of sideways and stepped on air. She drew it back, screaming for her mother. Her legs trembled and she sagged as if about to sit down.

  “Do something, Tara,” said Kali. “Or I’ll let her go.”

  “Drop her, just drop her!” said Zarku. “This drama has gone on long enough and I’m sick of it.”

  With a huge effort, Tara twisted sideways and slapped Sadia. Hard. The sound reverberated in Tara’s heart. Sadia immediately stood still staring at Tara with teary eyes and Tara hated herself at that moment.

  “Walk!” Tara said in her strictest voice. “Don’t look anywhere but straight ahead and walk.”

  Now and then Kali looked back at Tara, her face shiny with sweat and fear, but they moved quickly, now that Sadia obeyed her. Tara focused on pushing while Kali tugged her along.

  Between them, they managed to get to the other side where Zarku stood tapping his foot. The moment her foot touched solid ground, Tara said a prayer to Lord Ganesh. This could have ended right here but it hadn’t. They were safe. For now.

  Zarku led the way again, moving at a fast clip. “The end is near!” he crowed.

  “Help me,” said Tara. Sadia was once again on the ground, awake, but too weak to stand. “We could hold her between us.”

  Kali glanced at Zarku’s receding back. “You’re on your own,” she said and ran off after Zarku.

  Shadows crowded Tara once again, pressing down on her, smothering her. Zarku’s words echoed in her ear, the end is near. If only she had a light, she could have gone back the way they came. Escaped. She didn’t want to die.

  Follow him. It’s the only way out.

  Zara’s soft voice calmed her. She picked Sadia up and followed the fast-receding light with a nagging thought that she was afraid to think of: this was Zarku’s mother advising her.

  But whose side was she on?

  — twenty-one —

  The Dagger

  Zarku stopped before a small cave. He stood gazing at it raptly, like a small child before a magical vision. All Tara saw was one more yawning black hole. He dropped to his knees once again and touched his forehead to the ground as if about to walk on hallowed ground.

  The cave was small. They had passed by much bigger ones with unusual colours and impossible-to-imagine shapes, as if giant fingers had moulded them while the rock was still hot. Yet, in this nondescript hole lived a monster — Lord Kubera, who had given birth to another. Tara had expected something more extravagant.

  “At last,” said Zarku. “We’re home.” The excitement in his voice was unmistakeable.

  The ball of fear in the pit of Tara’s stomach expanded. The end of the road. Zarku would carry out his plan and within a short while she would be dead. All the ways he might kill her whirled inside her head, each one more gruesome than the previous one.

  “Follow me,” said Zarku. He marched inside. Heart pounding, Tara obeyed. Would his Lord be waiting there, ready to strike her down?

  But the narrow cave was empty. Its black stone walls stretched into darkness, sucking away any light that fell upon them. There were no reflections and no shadows around them. Tara felt they might suck the life out of her if she went any nearer.

  “Put Sadia down and come here,” said Zarku.

  Tara sat Sadia down at the entrance to the cave.

  Surprisingly, Sadia stirred and opened her eyes. “Where are we, Didi?”

  “Shhhh,” whispered Tara. “Sleep now. Everything will be all right.” She pressed her lips to Sadia’s forehead. It dawned on her that she would be unable to fulfill her promise to Kabir. Deep sadness filled her; she had never broken a promise yet. This would be her first. And last.

  Zarku put the lantern in a small niche in the wall.

  The light was so weak that it was like being underwater.

  Nothing moved, nothing flickered. The absence of shadows was so unnatural that Tara began to wonder just how evil this place was, if not even shadows dared linger there.

  “So, what now?” she asked. Her voice was unnaturally loud in the silence.

  “Quiet!” said Zarku. “You are in the shrine of the Lord. You will speak when you are spoken to. Stand here quietly. I’ll let you know when I’m ready.”

  Zarku walked deeper into the cave and came back moments later with a broom.

  “Clean up the cave, Kali,” said Zarku. He threw the broom at her. It bounced against her ample body and fell to the floor with a thump. Kali’s eyes matched the stone walls as she retrieved it.

  “Do a thorough job,” said Zarku. “Not the shoddy one you normally try and get away with. Sweep every inch of the cave. Everything must be perfect.”

  Kali did not utter a word. She wrapped the end of her saree around her waist and got to work. The rhythmic swishing and occasional grunt were the only sounds disturbing the loud silence. Hurry up, thought Tara. Just get it over with. This waiting was driving her mad.

  Zara, what’s he going to do?

  I don’t know.

  As Tara sat in that eerily dim room with no shadows, she wished, for the umpteenth time, she were back home in Morni doing normal day-to-day chores rather than waiting for Zarku to kill her. Would she get a chance to see this Lord Kubera before he killed her?

  She wandered over to the mouth of the cave, unable to sit still. Her insides churned and the beat of her heart drowned out the silence. The darkness just beyond the periphery of the lamplight was thick and heavy and depressing. Just a few feet from the entrance was the chasm they had crossed. Even if she ran for it, without a light she had no hope of getting across. She stepped back into the cave immediately, trying to think of another way to escape.

  The black walls seemed to pulse toward her; the ceiling hung lower. She gulped air, but it seemed all of it had burned away. She was suffocating!

  She looked behind her. Zarku had untied the bundle and was examining its contents. Lying on the white muslin cloth, a dagger caught her eye. The golden light from the lantern glided smoothly across its blade, stopping short of the ornate handle, which
was studded with red stones.

  Steal that dagger and throw it into the chasm, said Zara.

  What? thought Tara.

  Steal the dagger, throw it away. He can’t carry out the ritual without it.

  Tara took a few steps toward Zarku. Then stopped.

  What if this was a trap? But if she couldn’t trust Zara, whom could she trust? There was no one else.

  Round and round her mind scurried like a caged rat, asking questions, grasping at thoughts, throwing them away. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t think of a way out. She was doomed, and so were Suraj and Sadia. Unless she decided to take Zara’s advice.

  Tara pulled out the anklet from her pocket and clasped it tight in her sweaty palm. A numbing panic was starting to spread through her once again, clouding all coherent thought.

  Put it on, Tara. And keep it hidden.

  With trembling hands, Tara surreptitiously put the anklet on. Then she inched closer to Zarku. He was examining the urn in which he had spent the last few months, caressing it lovingly.

  The swishing sound stopped and Kali plodded up to them, wheezing. “It’s done,” she said.

  “High time,” said Zarku. “Take all these things and arrange them in the centre of the cave. Be careful! Some of these are worth more than your life. I’ll be back as soon as I’ve changed my clothes.”

  Tara inched forward, her eyes darting to the dagger and back toward Zarku. He turned and started to walk away. Kali stooped to gather the items. Tara lunged forward and grabbed the dagger.

  “Oi! STOP!” yelled Kali.

  The dagger slipped out of Tara’s sweaty hands and fell back on the cloth. She scrabbled for it, but her hands shook so much, she could barely grasp it. The blade brushed against her palm. A shower of bright-red drops stained the white cloth.

  Zarku whirled around and raced back to her, his eyes clouded with rage. He slapped her so hard that she went reeling and sprawled on the ground a good distance away.

  “How dare you touch this sacred blade with your filthy hands!”

  Tara saw stars as she sat up.

  Zarku advanced on her, his lips speckled with spit.

  “So, you think you’re being very smart, are you?” His voice was soft and low and deadly calm.

  Tara inched backward, not taking her eyes off him.

  He raised the dagger. “You want this?”

  “No,” said Tara. “I’m sorry, it was a mistake. I’m very sorry.”

  “Too late!” Zarku raised the dagger. The steel flashed silver. He brought it swishing down through the air and slashed his arm.

  Tara’s scream died in her throat. She watched, mesmerized, as the blood welled out of the deep cut and dripped to the floor and on the white muslin, mingling with hers. He didn’t utter a whimper.

  Zara, what’s happening? What did you make me do?

  Why is he doing this?

  Zara did not reply.

  Zarku raised the dagger again. Tara leaned as far back as she could, unable to move, her eyes riveted to the steel blade. This time he was sure to slash her face or stab her in the heart. Once again the dagger swished through the air. This time, Zarku sliced his thigh. A red patch spread rapidly on his pajamas.

  Tara stared at him horrified. Why was he punishing himself? Did he actually think she’d feel sorry for him?

  “Shall I continue or will you behave, Didi?”

  It was as if a rock had fallen on her head. He was punishing her all right — by injuring Suraj!

  “Stop!” she shrieked. “Stop, please. I’ll do anything you say. Please don’t hurt Suraj anymore.”

  “That’s better,” said Zarku. “One more silly move from you and I’ll cut off an arm or a leg. In a short while this body will be useless to me.” His hysterical laughter filled her ears, but she didn’t dare cover them. She didn’t dare move. Zarku lowered the dagger and walked away, a trail of blood marking his path. Tara fell to her feet and touched her brother’s lifeblood, smearing it on her fingertips. What had she done? In a few moments, Zarku would sacrifice her, and leave Suraj’s body behind. Badly injured. Would her little brother survive after she was gone? What would happen to him and Sadia? Pain welled up from deep within her and came bubbling up to her throat, her eyes and spilled over.

  Zara, what did you make me do? said Tara weeping silently.

  There was still no answer.

  “Scared?” said Kali, a triumphant smile on her face.

  Tara wiped her eyes and faced Kali defiantly. “No. You?”

  “Liar,” said Kali. “Finally you get what you deserve. I will be cheering him on!”

  Tara had no words in retaliation. Didn’t have the energy, either. They had won; evil had won in the end … In the centre of the room, Zarku, all cleaned up and wearing fresh clothes, sat cross-legged on the muslin cloth spread out in the middle of the room. He struck a match.

  The flare lit up the urn that was so familiar to Tara by now. Beside it lay a heap of silvery wood cut up into small pieces, and the gleaming dagger, its blade now spotless.

  Chanting under his breath, Zarku lit the end of one of the sticks of wood and dropped it into the urn. The flame caught and an orange-red glow emanated from within. Zarku added another and yet another sliver of wood. The fire burned brighter, leaping toward the black ceiling.

  Zarku picked up the dagger and held the blade over the flames. It glowed a blinding white, and then as she watched, it turned black. As black as the walls around her.

  He looked up at Tara, the red of the fire reflected in his eyes. She held her breath. He crooked his little finger and beckoned to her.

  “It is time.”

  — twenty-two —

  The Last Wish

  The world spun crazily. Only when Tara’s lungs were bursting for air did she realize she had been holding her breath.

  “Come,” Zarku repeated. He licked his lips, and they gleamed, red and wet.

  Tara found herself moving toward him, her eyes riveted to that black blade with its silver handle inlaid with red rubies. The dagger was too big for his hand and yet he held it with such ease.

  “Please,” said Tara. “Don’t do this.”

  “Stop this stupidity, Tara. I have waited months for this moment and nothing can stop me. Come closer.”

  Tara took a step toward him, every muscle, every nerve straining against it.

  “Closer,” he whispered. “Don’t make me come there.” His eyes glowed red and his forehead pulsed, as if some large insect just under his skin were trying to tear through it.

  Tara walked right up to him, feeling the heat from the urn rise up between them. “What are you going to do?” asked Tara. There was a dagger in his hand and there she was. It was very clear, but still, she wanted to hear it from him. She was so scared, she was numb.

  “Just a quick stab to your chest, I cut out your heart while it is still beating and …”

  “And then?”

  “I eat it.” Zarku held her gaze, his eyes alight with excitement.

  “No!” Tara wrapped her arms around her. “Never!”

  The thought of her beating heart in the hands of this evil soul made it race at triple speed. She took a step back, then another. Even the chasm would be a better fate than this.

  “You didn’t let me finish,” said Zarku sternly. “I’ll only take a tiny bite. The rest goes into the urn as an offering to my Lord. Your heart in the urn that held me — for an eternity.”

  She could think of nothing, see nothing but her heart carved up by that night-black blade. She had to delay this, keep him talking. She searched for something, anything, however stupid it might be, to stay Zarku’s hand. She took a deep breath.

  “How … how does that help you?” asked Tara. “You’re making a huge mistake killing an innocent person.”

  “You? Innocent?” Zarku laughed. He raised the dagger.

  “Wait,” said Tara. “What happens to Suraj and Sadia after I am gone? Surely you’ll let them live.
I’m not sacrficing myself in vain.”

  “Ahhh, I knew you’d ask that.”

  “Promise me they’ll both be safe,” Tara. “Promise me that you will take them back home.”

  “I make no such promises.”

  “Surely you’re not scared that two children will ruin your evil plans?” said Tara, trying to inject scorn into her shaking voice. “You owe me this at the very least.” She bit down on the fear that ran rampant within, turning her insides to mush.

  Zarku looked at her steadily. “You’ve been a good sport, Tara,” he said, “and a worthy opponent. I’m in a generous mood so I’ll grant you one last wish. Ask for anything but your life — that’s mine.”

  It’s better than nothing, thought Tara. This was her chance to ask for the children’s lives. He would keep his word and take them back home safely. She’d have kept her promise to Kabir and Suraj would live. Yes, that was it.

  No, Tara don’t ask for that. Ask that he allow you to hug him. He needs to know, to feel, that I’m here.

  “What?” screamed Tara, hating Zara at that moment, with her silences and crazy advice.

  “Are you deaf?” said Zarku. He glared at her. “I said you have one last wish. Act funny and I’ll cut your heart out without a moment’s delay.”

  Zara, I have this one chance to save my brother and you’re asking me to hug your son? No, I can’t do that.

  I listened to you once and that almost cost Suraj a limb.

  Don’t do this again. Please!

  Hug him. Now! Zara used the firmest voice she had ever used with Tara. You’ve failed me once already and you saw the consequence of that.

  Hug this monster? You’re mad, Zara, I couldn’t even bear to touch him.

  “At last,” whispered Kali. “Justice.” Her lips curved into a smile.

  Trust me, Tara. Do it, now.

  Tara’s clothes stuck to her. Sweat poured into her eyes, blinding her, and her head ached viciously. What if she was making a terrible mistake? This was Zarku’s mother. Of course she would want to embrace her son through Tara. But how would that save her brother and Sadia? Could she trust her?

  On this one decision rested three lives.