Arjun said nothing, but his silence carried more meaning than any words could.
‘I can’t believe it,’ Agastya said. ‘For once I am not alone in saying that we shouldn’t do crazy stuff like this.’ He looked at Arjun. ‘Maya’s right, you know. Drop it, Arjun. Let’s not do it.’
A heavy silence hung over the group.
Maya watched as Arjun stood there clenching his fists. Whether in anger or frustration, she couldn’t tell, but he was clearly upset that two of his friends were opposing him.
She could understand how he felt. He had locked horns with his uncle, arguing that his friends were the Saptas and should be treated as such. It was natural for him to feel let down now.
But she didn’t regret taking a stand against his idea. It was just plain wrong.
With a great effort, Arjun composed himself and spoke. ‘I can’t believe you guys don’t want to look for the prophecy. I really don’t understand it.’
Maya realised that Arjun hadn’t been listening to them explain their positions. His attachment to his own idea blinkered his understanding.
‘It isn’t that we don’t want to search for the prophecy,’ she tried to explain. ‘It’s just that we don’t want to go against the decision of the Sangha.’
‘It’s the same thing,’ Arjun insisted. ‘They don’t want us to look for the prophecy either.’
Maya was nonplussed. For the first time in her life, she didn’t know how to get through to her friend. It was like a chasm had suddenly opened up between them—a chasm that she had never believed possible.
‘Fine, then.’ There was a strange undercurrent in Arjun’s voice. ‘We’ll drop the idea. We can’t do it without the two of you. We can’t get into Gandharva-lok without Maya since only she can recite the mantra that opens the portal. And Ags is the only Rishi in the group. We need him along. If you two are dropping out, the rest of us don’t have a choice.’
He turned and walked away towards the dorms without another word.
The rest of the group cast apprehensive glances at each other, then followed him.
Chapter Twenty-nine
A New Angle
Raman Kapoor’s Office
New Delhi
Kapoor sat at his desk, looking at Ajit with a perplexed expression.
The last four days had been spent frenetically poring over mobile phone records of the dead girl, talking to neighbours, school teachers, her friends, examining the girl’s medical history, and speaking to doctors who had treated her for any kind of ailment in the last few years.
One thing had been established. The girl—her name was Diya Chaudhry—had been in fine fettle before she disappeared. She had definitely not been suffering from any kind of sickness or infection.
Ajit had made another discovery, which he had just reported to Kapoor. A discovery that was wholly unexpected, but not one that made the case simpler.
Diya Chaudhry had been in touch with Naresh Upadhyay just a few days before the history teacher was murdered. And she had studied in the same school as Upadhyay’s daughter and Virendra Singh’s nephew.
‘Are you sure about her having been in touch with Upadhyay?’ Kapoor asked Ajit.
‘One hundred per cent, sir,’ Ajit replied.
‘Not that it means that there is any connection between the two cases,’ Kapoor muttered, rather unconvincingly. ‘But it doesn’t help us either.’
‘I just thought you should know, sir,’ Ajit said.
Kapoor nodded. ‘You did the right thing. Now go out there and get some more clues.’
‘Sir.’ Ajit rose, saluted and left the room.
Kapoor sat staring into space for a few moments. Then he picked up the phone. ‘Get me forensics,’ he said. ‘Suresh.’
In less than a minute, the phone rang.
‘Suresh,’ Kapoor said,’ do you have the fingerprints of Diya Chaudhry?’
‘Yes, sir. They’ll be in the files.’
‘Good. Then listen carefully. Here’s what I want you to do.’
After giving Suresh his instructions, Kapoor put the phone down and paced the room, thinking hard. He had acted on a hunch, asking Suresh to compare the fingerprints. He really didn’t know what he was trying to achieve. He only knew that his instinct had never failed him.
The phone rang.
It was Suresh.
‘Sir!’ Suresh’s voice carried an unmistakable ring of excitement. ‘You were right.’
‘But that doesn’t make sense,’ Kapoor said. ‘Ajit was very clear that he saw a man go into Upadhyay’s house. Not a girl.’
‘Ajit must be mistaken, sir. The prints match. There can be no doubt that the person who opened the gate to Upadhyay’s house was none other than the victim—Diya Chaudhry!’
The Forest
Unknown Location
‘What you did last night was unacceptable.’ Satyavachana’s face was grave as he looked at Maya. ‘Eavesdropping, that too on a Council meeting! Whatever were you thinking, child?’
‘I’m sorry, Mahamati,’ Maya said with downcast eyes. ‘I … I was curious to know if the Council would discuss the Saptas.’
‘The Council does not believe in the Saptas,’ Satyavachana sighed. ‘Sometimes I think they do not believe in the prophecy itself.’
‘I will not eavesdrop again,’ Maya said.
Satyavachana nodded. ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘Last night you were in real danger. If Jignesh had uttered the mantra that I thought he was going to unleash, you would have been in real trouble.’
‘I understand, Mahamati.’
‘Come, now. Let us proceed with our lessons.’
Chapter Thirty
Kapoor Follows Up
Raman Kapoor’s Office
Raman Kapoor rose and greeted the rotund little man who bustled into his office.
‘Professor Ratan Tiwari?’ Kapoor proffered his hand, which Tiwari shook with a firm grip. ‘Thank you for coming to meet me. I thought it would be more discreet than my visiting the university.’
Tiwari nodded and sat down. ‘No problem, sir. But I am curious about why you wanted to meet me.’
Kapoor sat at his desk and nodded. ‘Of course. I wanted to ask you some questions about a case that I am investigating at the moment.’
Tiwari looked at him inquiringly. ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘I’m not sure how I can help, but I’m happy to try.’
‘Thank you, Professor. Now, you must have seen and read about the girl who was found dead under mysterious circumstances. It’s all over the news and social media.’
‘You’ll have to be more specific, sir,’ Tiwari said. ‘I don’t watch a lot of television, especially not the news, and I stay away from social media. And the newspapers are filled with bad news about children being killed almost every day.’
‘True,’ Kapoor agreed. He opened a drawer in his desk and took out the photographs of Diya Chaudhry and handed them to Tiwari, observing him keenly as the professor looked at the photographs one by one.
Finally, Tiwari handed the pictures back to Kapoor and nodded. ‘I remember these,’ he said and shuddered. ‘A terrible thing to have happened.’ He hesitated. ‘So, I guess you know that I knew Diya. Is that why you called me here?’
‘Yes, Professor. We examined Diya’s mobile phone records and found that you are one of the people with whom she was in touch quite often. Tell me what you know about her.’
‘Well.’ Tiwari pursed his lips and shrugged. ‘She came to me for Sanskrit tuitions. I’m a Sanskrit scholar and professor, as you know. She was a very intelligent student and a hard worker. Quite good at Sanskrit too, and one of the toppers in her school. But I’m afraid that’s all I know about her.’
‘Did she ever mention anything that you feel may be important and has a bearing on this case?’ Kapoor pressed.
Tiwari thought for a moment, then shook his head. ‘I can’t think of anything of that nature,’ he replied. ‘I’m sorry I’m not being of much help.’
‘T
hat’s alright, Professor.’ Kapoor rose and held out his hand. ‘Thank you, once again, for coming over. And if you do happen to remember anything, please let me know.’
‘I will definitely do that.’ Tiwari shook Kapoor’s hand, then bustled out of the room.
Kapoor gazed thoughtfully at Tiwari’s disappearing back. The man was hiding something. Of that he was sure.
But what was it?
Harish appeared at the door.
‘Well?’ Kapoor looked enquiringly at him.
‘It’s a positive identification, sir.’
‘You’re sure of it.’
Harish nodded vehemently. ‘I’m sure. This is the man who arrived at Panna National Park with the girl and then met up with Virendra Singh and his family.’
‘It was sundown. There was insufficient light for you to have seen his features properly. And you were at a significant distance from the car.’ Kapoor’s face was grim. ‘That’s what the defence will say, if it gets that far.’
Harish shook his head. ‘I’m one hundred per cent sure, sir. There’s no doubt about it. He’s the one.’
‘Well then, get a tail on him. I want to know what he does, where he goes, who he meets.’
‘Sir.’ Harish saluted and left the room.
Kapoor leaned back in his chair and grimaced. He seemed to be going round in circles. No matter what lead came up, it led back to the same place.
A part of him exulted. It seemed that this case was inextricably linked with the Trivedi and Upadhyay murder cases. The girl, Diya. The involvement of this man, Tiwari. His presence in the park where Virendra Singh had met him. It all meant that the leads in his earlier case had not gone cold, and the two cases were possibly connected.
There was something big happening.
The key to that revelation had eluded him so far. But Kapoor was determined to find it.
For the umpteenth time, he pulled out the sheet of paper he had found beneath the desk in Upadhyay’s house and studied it.
A flaming sword.
A sword on fire?
What did it mean?
Chapter Thirty-one
Arjun Reflects
The Gurukul
Panna National Park
Arjun sat and reflected.
He had still not got over the shock of the previous night. Somehow, he had been able to understand and forgive Agastya; the two boys had not exchanged a word last night in the dorm when they retired for the night, but by this morning, Arjun had calmed down and was able to think things through more rationally.
Agastya, as long as Arjun had known him, had played by the rules; he would the last one to go against the grain. It didn’t matter if the rules made sense or not; for Agastya, they were sacrosanct. They existed, therefore they had to be followed. Without question.
But, try as he might, Arjun could not understand why his oldest and closest friend from childhood had deserted him at the moment when he needed her support the most.
It was very unlike Maya. She had always found a way to agree with him when they were growing up. It wasn’t as if they never had disagreements or fights, but they had always found a middle ground to make up. Their friendship had ensured a healthy respect for each other, even when their ideas differed.
Last night was different. Maya had shot down his idea without a second thought. She had acted like Agastya, only she was not Agastya. Far from it.
He had been stunned.
Maya had always been cool, level-headed, logical, and willing to see sense. Why had she not supported him this time?
The two missing parts of the prophecy had to be found. That much was clear. All that Arjun wanted was the chance to be able to prove that he and his six friends were the Saptas.
Was that too much to ask?
Apparently, according to the Sangha, it was.
But that didn’t rankle as much as the fact that Maya didn’t think the way he did. She too felt that the Sangha’s decision was not to be questioned. She didn’t seem to mind that the Saptas would have to sit on the sidelines instead of being in the thick of the action as the first part of the prophecy had predicted.
Arjun had spent the entire day moping over Maya’s behaviour last night.
By now, however, a strange loneliness had begun to creep up on him.
His mother had left with the rest of the team deputed by the Sangha to search for the prophecy in Gandharva-lok. The day had been spent with Agastya, under the supervision of his uncle and Mahamati Usha, learning and practising. It had been tough and intensive and he had had no time to think.
But when he returned to the dorm after practice, something seemed to be missing. He felt the absence of his mother keenly.
And, despite his misgivings about Maya’s behaviour, he missed her too.
He rose abruptly, making up his mind.
There was something that he had to do.
Chapter Thirty-two
Maya Explores
The Gurukul
Maya looked around. The dorm was unoccupied. Adira and the other girls were probably in the common room.
She flopped onto the bed, exhausted. Satyavachana had been putting her through her paces and it had been both difficult and enervating.
Ever since Satyavachana had taught Maya the Pratismriti mantra, she had been using it to travel to the forest and back to the Gurukul. Initially Satyavachana had accompanied her, both to ensure that she was safe and also to give her the experience of taking someone else along with her while using the mantra. But after a couple of days, he was satisfied that she was quite capable of making the trips herself.
The sun was setting and darkness was slowly creeping up on the Gurukul, like a black wall separating it from the world of the sadhs. The glowing orbs of light that illuminated it at night began winking on, keeping the darkness at bay.
There it was again.
Cutting through her excitement and happiness, the familiar tug was back, calling out to her.
It was like an argument that you knew you could not win. At some point, you would have to give in to it.
Maya slid off the bed.
She had to know.
Where was this coming from? What was its source?
She stole down the stairs of the cottage, past the other dorms, creeping past the open door of the common room where some boisterous game was in progress, accompanied by much squealing and laughter. She stepped outside and quietly shut the door of the cottage behind her.
The Central Avenue was deserted at this time, students and faculty alike having retired to their dorms or cottages.
Maya decided to follow her instinct. The tug seemed to be coming from beyond the classrooms.
But there was nothing there. Just the practice fields for the Kshatriyas and the Rishis.
And the river Ken.
Was it coming from the river?
There was only one way to find out.
She walked down towards the Assembly Hall.
The tug did seem to get stronger as she walked. She was definitely moving in the right direction.
A sudden apprehension gripped her.
What was she going to do when she found the source of the feeling that had been plaguing her since she had arrived at the Gurukul?
Chapter Thirty-three
Dilemma
Lajpat Nagar
New Delhi
Vishwaraj threw a few things into a suitcase. He wouldn’t need much; he was travelling light. Just the bare essentials.
He looked around the small, drab, flat.
A tiny bedroom with a single rickety bed and attached bathroom; a second bedroom just beyond, and a room that doubled as a sitting room and dining room with a cubicle of a kitchen attached.
It had never been comfortable, but he had more important things to worry about. There was a job to be done.
And he could not use this flat as his base any more. The Sangha knew about him now—they would have seen him in Panna, where he had used his powers to counter the
protective mantras of the Gurukul, to enable the Nagas to advance on it unchallenged.
He had been reluctant at first, to play such a leading role in attacking the very institution that he had been a part of. But that feeling had not lasted long. The feeling of power, of dominance and invincibility that he had experienced once he started chanting the mantras had been unparalleled. Nothing he had ever done in the Sangha was comparable to that feeling. He had revelled in it.
Until Garuda had appeared and reversed the momentum of the Nagas.
Vishwaraj knew that the Sangha would come for him. They would search him out, produce him before the Sangha Council and pass judgment on him. He was powerful, but he knew he could not battle the might of the Sangha.
No, he could not stay here any longer.
Yesterday, the Son of Bhrigu had given him a new assignment. He had stressed its importance. And Vishwaraj had understood what Shukra was planning.
It hadn’t been long since Shukra had first sought him out in Allahabad. Vishwaraj still didn’t know how Shukra had known about him, or found him. He had simply appeared at Vishwaraj’s school one day. The Son of Bhrigu had spoken to him and convinced him to be a part of his grand plan for Bhu-lok.
Vishwaraj had begun working with Shukra, training under him, learning powerful mantras that he had never known existed, even while being a part of the Gana.
Shukra had told Vishwaraj about the prophecy and about what had happened in Allahabad fourteen years ago.
Subsequently, Vishwaraj had also learned that Rudrapratap’s son was still alive. And that Kanakpratap was living in Delhi under an assumed name.
Vishwaraj had left for Delhi immediately, but he had been unable to locate Rudrapratap’s son. However, he had managed to locate Maharishi Dhruv, who was also living in Delhi under an assumed name, by using a member of the Gana—Diya Chaudhry.
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