“Because it’s safer for her to cross the waters of the pond. I don’t think the denizens will like it if you trespass across their sleep.” Her voice had a musical quality to it.
“I don’t understand.”
The yaksha spoke. “Let her go, Prince Veer. It’s safer for us all around.”
“I don’t like this Chandra,” said Veer in an undertone, casting doubtful glances at the supernatural beings.
“It’s not like we have a choice here,” she said out of the side of her mouth. “Besides, I’m pretty sure they won’t harm me.”
She walked to the edge of the lake and stepped onto the bridge. The whole time, Veer kept expecting something to happen, but she managed to cross without any mishap.
He let out a sigh of relief.
Once under the tree, Chandra joined her hands in prayer, eyes closed, her head bowed.
Then she opened her hands and held them like a cup.
Time passed. Veer took to sitting on the stump of a fallen tree, absently tapping his sword on the ground. Chandra appeared to have gone into one of her trances. Veer acknowledged that she was probably a better candidate of the two of them. His mind was still in chaos after last night’s revelations and the lack of sleep was getting to him.
Music continued to play in the background, a soothing, unceasing melody. Veer realized that it was the kinnara couple who were the source of the music. They played a multitude of wind and stringed instruments that appeared and disappeared in their hands.
The yaksha seemed to be friends with the couple and had informed Veer, in an aside, that the beings were mated for life,and forsook children—all so they could stay devoted to each other—as was typical of their kind.
The kinnara couple and the yaksha spoke in quiet voices in a strange language. He couldn’t understand the words but understood their cadence. They seemed to be catching up on the news.
Occasionally, he found himself the object of their scrutiny. Veer’s shoulders prickled when they stared at him. For some reason, their presence disturbed him. If he was being honest, being here, in this forest, disturbed him on a deeper level. But he had no answer if someone asked him exactly what was wrong.
Veer heard Chandra’s exclamation and swung his head toward her, standing up, hand ready on the pommel of his sword.
Up on the island, a fruit had fallen into her hands. A blue light enveloped the fruit, growing brighter and brighter, and suddenly it dimmed like someone had snuffed it out.
Chandra held up the key piece that materialized in her hands, a triumphant smile on her face.
Veer grinned at her and stepped toward the bank. Chandra did the same.
The bridge connecting the two banks disappeared like it never existed.
They both halted, nonplussed.
Veer turned toward the kinnara couple for an explanation. “What’s the meaning of this? Why’d you remove the bridge?”
“We can’t make this too easy for you,” said the male kinnara. Veer heard the laughter in his melodious voice.
“Very well. Do what you want. I’m going to swim to the other shore,” said Veer, irked.
The kinnara barred his way and Veer unsheathed his sword. “I’m warning you. Get out of my way.”
The kinnara replied, “I don’t die, Prince. Haven’t you learned that by now? Anything that dies here is reborn instantly. Even those animals you ‘ate’ have all re-formed their bodies and are doing well. The most you can do is to end me for a few minutes.”
“A few minutes would be all I’d need to rescue my wife,” said Veer, gritting his teeth. He had enough being the brunt of their sick humor.
“How very gallant of you! But are you sure you want to do that? Our song is the only thing keeping those beings underwater asleep. If we die, they’ll start to wake up.”
“And why should that matter to me?”
“Because the world isn’t ready for them to wake up,” said the kinnara, giving a slow blink.
Veer was unnerved to discover they had no eyelids. A thin nictitating membrane stretched and retracted itself across their black eyes.
