“Amaravathi’s business…” she said. Her default answer when she wanted to avoid his questions.
“And you needed to make Girish swear on your life to get him to leave?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. “Kinda felt like he didn’t want to leave you.”
Chandra sat and poked at the fire as she watched the pot of water boil, maintaining an obstinate silence. Her evasiveness reminded Veer of the time in Amaravathi when she refused to satisfy his curiosity regarding Sarun. He wondered now if there was a connection.
She pulled out a handful of dry-roasted chickpeas and popped them in her mouth.
She offered some to Veer, who declined. “Don’t know how you can stand that food,” he said irritably.
“Beggars can’t be choosers. Last chance before I eat them all.”
“And what’re you going to do when you get hungry the next time?” he asked.
Chandra reached into the satchel and pulled out a bunch of sweet yams. “I shall cook these.”
Veer frowned at the bunch of tubers. “Where did you get them?”
Chandra returned them to her satchel. “Found them a couple of miles ago. Saw a squirrel foraging for them.”
“You saw a squirrel? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Well, it disappeared too fast for me to tell you. Why?”
“We could be dining on squirrel meat by now,” he said.
Chandra made a face. “You know I don’t eat that.”
“That’s right. I forgot. Damn, I’m getting hungry thinking of meat.” He gave her a disgruntled look and spread his palm up. “Give me the damn chickpeas.”
Veer leaned back against the banyan tree trunk; eyes closed. He still felt hungry after the chickpeas. Worse, his mouth flooded with water remembering food. Dark, gory images ran behind his closed eyelids. He was exhausted. Ever since he noticed his ring was missing, he had been expecting the demon’s presence, but although he felt sick and nauseated, Ilavu was far away.
He glanced at the princess through eyes opened to slits. She was busy peeling the yams.
“There’s something you should know, Princess,” he said.
Chandra continued, intent on her task. “What is it?”
“If something happens to me, you should run.”
Her eyebrows pleated as she made long gashes on the yam with her dagger. “What nonsense are you speaking? It’s obvious you are sick. Let me make a concoction and you’ll be all right once you drink it.”
“The red ring,” he said urgently, swallowing with difficulty. “Without its protection, I’ll be a danger to you, to everyone. You should run when I tell you to.”
“I’m not going to abandon you,” said Chandra, stubborn as always. “I thought the ring was for increased strength, anyway. Why should that matter now?”
Veer wanted to argue more but sweat broke out on his brow as his gorge rose. He suppressed it with difficulty, breathing through his mouth.
“This forest is strange,” she said. Veer focused on her voice to distract himself. “We can hear animals and birds and not one has appeared in a while now.”
“Water…” wheezed Veer. “Can I have some?”
“Yes. Of course.” She got up, then offered him a small leather bottle.
Veer snatched the bottle out of her hands. Out of the corner of his eye, he observed her watching him drain it with a worried look on her face.
“Are you that thirsty?” she asked. “You’re drinking more than usual.”
“Are we running out?”
