“But he didn’t know that. Please, it was a mistake. Change him back,” she pleaded.
“That is, unfortunately, not in my hands, Princess.”
“Then tell me, how can we break the curse?”
The face shifted to a different position in another tree branch, and it took a moment for Chandra to find it again.
“Why do you even want to, Princess?” came his reflective voice. “I know all about the history between you two. Has he ever shown you mercy that you ought to care for him now?”
“That doesn’t matter. This isn’t the time to go over the past. If you know everything, then you must know why we are here and what we are trying to do.”
“Yes. I know about the Meru. And I think it’s a bad idea.”
“Bad idea,” said Chandra incredulously.
“Natural disasters are meant to run their course. They exist for a reason. Trying to stop nature was one of the reasons the danavas had disappeared.”
“That was different. There are lives at stake here.”
“How was it any different, Princess?” came the stubborn argument. “The danavas were a strong race and trying to get rid of the checks and balances that existed in nature was the reason for their demise. Is the race of man superior and arrogant enough to think they can do better?”
A distant roar of an animal interrupted their conversation, causing Chandra to glance fearfully toward the sound. She imagined she saw a flock of birds take to flight, but the trees grew too thick together to make out any details. She, however, had no doubt as to who the cause of the roar was.
“I’m not here to argue the finer ethical points behind trying to prevent Meru’s eruption. I beg you to help me save my husband.”
“No. Your husband is gone. The thing you see is nothing but an empty vessel without conscience, the essence that makes them ‘human.’”
Chandra was taken aback. The thing that made them human? So, what was Veer now? More importantly, how to recover what was lost?
She tried to appeal to him again. “But the way he is now, he is killing anything that crosses his path. How is that going to help? If you are a guardian, shouldn’t the safety of everything living in the forest be your responsibility?”
“What dies is always reborn, Princess,” he said enigmatically.
“So why are you here if you don’t want to help?” she asked, exasperated and annoyed in equal measure. “Just to enjoy my despair?”
“I came to offer you a place to stay the night. If you wish to take my help.”
Chapter 37: Maayavi
Thianvelli, Giridah Fort
On a dark moonless night, which carried a heavy hint of storm, where the very air seemed expectant with dread and most of Thianvelli slept uneasily, came a wizard of the dark arts.
He made his slow way along a dirt road leading to the prison tower of a partially demolished fortress.
Mud squelched and splattered the tattered shawl around his shoulders. He wore a threadbaredhoti, leaving the upper part of his body bare. Gaunt bones stuck out of his emaciated torso.
In his hand, he carried a crooked staff, made of a gnarled branch from akadambatree. Redkumkumand yellow turmeric stained the wood permanently. Four human skulls, shrunken and mummified sat on the top of the staff, one for each cardinal direction.
The tower guards threw open the gates as his dark figure appeared at the edge of the lights cast by the torches along the walls and then stood well back. They had been given their orders not to halt his progress.
Bone-white ash decorated his sunken face, and crimson dust smeared his forehead. Bloodshot eyes protruded from the mass of matted black hair atop his head. The pious among themaverted their eyes, nary a whisper from anyone about the blood dripping softly from the satchel he carried over his shoulder.
The wizard climbed the steps and entered the wide entrance hall. A waiting party of three were standing to greet him.
“Glad you could make it, O’ Great Wizard, Maayavi. We welcome you to Thianvelli,” said Sakaala.
The crown prince of Thianvelli, Nandiketu, and his younger brother, Ketuvahana, also were present, standing a step back, as greetings and introductions were made.
