“Live in exile?” supplied Makhadeva helpfully.
“Yes.”
“It’s a long story.” He glanced sidelong at her. “Perhaps one day I’ll tell you the reason.”
“Did the devas banish you?”
Makhadeva whirled around, the bees buzzing aggressively. She shrank from his anger, cursing her quick tongue. She remembered some of the unsavory legends of therakshasas, of their fondness for human flesh and propensity for violence.
“If it were anyone but you who asked this question…”
She thanked the goddess that at least he seemed to be fond of her…for some reason.
Chandra pondered this news with excitement. If they were the danavas, they must know all about the mechanism on Meru and how the lotus key worked. And perhaps they also knew the location of the rest of the key pieces or how to obtain them.
Makhadeva stopped suddenly and put a hand over one of his ‘eyes’.
“Ah. I’m needed, Princess. Please feel free to explore. I must go.”
Before she could say anything, he disappeared. Chandra went searching for him, desperate for answers.
She didn’t have to search for long in the dilapidated husk of a city and spotted him in a large circular room with a domed ceiling that had a central crack through it. A swarm of bees hovered in the air in front of a dozen mirrors at different heights, each showing a different part of the forest.
Chandra found the beast that was Veer reflected in each of the mirrors. She winced when she saw his killing rampage with no signs of slowing down.
“Your husband seems to have torn a swathe through the forest,” said Makhadeva, noticing her arrival. “I’m impressed by his stamina. Perhaps his rage is fueled by some sense that he’s missing his prey? He seems to be closing in on where we are currently staying.”
Chandra wondered what Veer’s plans were when he ultimately found her. She gulped just thinking about it. Was he going to consume her like the other animals? Will that finally satisfy his hunger? Will that break his curse or make him more damned?
“Can’t you help him?” she asked again.
“No. We talked about this yesterday.” Makhadeva paused. “But I do have to do something to restrain him. He cannot be allowed to continue like this. Frankly, I thought he would’ve run out of energy long before now.”
“What are these mirrors?”
“These are magical mirrors made from water. My friends, the kinnara couple, made these. It allows me to watch what is going on in my domain.”
“Does the mirrors’ reach extend beyond the borders of this forest?” she asked.
“Sometimes, yes.”
“Well, in that case, can you show me something?”
“If you know the location of this person, I can try.”
“In Amaravathi’s royal palace, there’s a king who is sick. Can you show him?”
Makhadeva adjusted the mirror and closed his left eye. The mirror went in and out of focus, each time showing a different place, but she recognized some of them—a village on the outskirts of Amaravathi, the temple spire of Devarakonda, the neatly paved streets of Tripura, Amaravathi’s capital city, and finally, the royal palace.
The next time the mirror came into focus, it showed the king’s bedchamber.
An airy chamber lit with natural air and sunlight. She could almost smell the scent of medicinal paste her mother must have sent.
In the large bed lay the king. The ravages of the sickness had left their mark on his body. Chandra saw that he had lost a lot of weight.
She put out a hand longingly, almost but not quite touching the reflective surface, wishing she could see him in the flesh once more.
“Thank you for showing me. It’s been seven years since I have seen my father. I didn’t think I’d be able to see him before he pardoned me.”
