She dragged her eyes from the lotus key. “It was you! I wondered who you had sent to spy on me.”
“Is it your bracelet that gives you power?” he asked. Something flickered in his eyes, but Chandra felt worse seeing it, loathe to call it respect when she felt so awful.
“No,” she said. “My powers come from the goddess.” Chandra glanced up at the statue. Dwindling sunlight painted the statue in deep shades of red and orange, giving her features an enigmatic slant.
“It is said that Goddess Durga granted a boon to one of the ancestors of Amaravathi. A blessing passed down for generations. Everyone born into the royal family can wear this mark,” she said, pointing to her own forehead. “And has the potential to acquire these powers, but they need to adhere tocertain, stringent practices and work on them rigorously and often.
“The repercussions when you put a foot wrong or choose to use magic for the unjust reasons are…painful.” Her eyes flicked toward him and darted away. “That night you saw me, I was following Guruji’s orders. Ever since I’ve mastered the goddess’s powers, he recruited me into his schemes. It gave me a purpose to be a part of something worthwhile.
“But to answer your question, the bracelet is only a way to channel those powers,” she continued, holding up the bracelet ofrudrakshabeads on her forearm. “Those who attain the highest level no longer need its presence as a requirement to use those powers. My brother, Bhupathi, can do that. But then, he has had a lot longer to practice.”
“No wonder you were so against me chopping off the goddess statue earlier,” said Veer contemplatively.
“I have never used a genocide arrow before,” she said, biting her lip, her eyes welling with tears. I’m not sure if I did the right thing, but I’ll find out this evening.”
“What does that mean, Princess?” asked Veer quietly.
“The goddess’s magic is pure,” she said, as a tear trickled down her cheek. “When it is used for an unethical thing, you experience the pain of the wronged party.”
Part 5
THE TEMPLE CITY
Chapter 17: The Altercation
Veer slid the heavy gunnysack of grain from his back onto the waiting cart and straightened, cracking his spine. He pulled the sticky, homespun cotton shirt away from his sweaty torso and blew a breath down the V-shaped opening at the neck. The relief was only short-lived.
It was a hot day, and he had been working all morning under the blistering sun. He undid the turban around his head and wiped the sweat off his nape. His skin had darkened already to a roasted nut brown. He considered stripping the shirt off completely but didn’t want to explain how he got the linear pattern of sucker-shaped scars to random passersby.
“I thought this was the rainy season. When are we going to get a respite?” he muttered.
Billadev made a sympathetic sound from his position in front of the cart. He was chewing on a sugarcane stick, resting against the grain bags in the cart, the swaying shadow of a coconut tree gave him a break from the unrelenting heat of the sun. He appeared not to have a care in the world.
“Do you think you can get off your large ass and give me a hand here?” Veer called irritably, brushing at the bits of hemp from the jute bags that had stuck to his arms.
Billadev spat out the chewed-up fibrous pulp of the sugarcane. “Why would I do that? You need exercise. Shota’sorders and all that,” said Billadev. “And my ass is just fine, thank you very much.”
Veer narrowed his eyes. Billadev was enjoying his rest a little too much. Veer had volunteered to lift the grain bags in the back of the cart, knowing he needed to build his strength back up after the encounter with the tentacled monster in the caves of Amaravathi. The fight had taken a little too much out of him.
The myriad sounds of a bustling temple city were muted here, in the backyard of the temple kitchens. A narrow, shallow stream gurgled in the distance. Palm trees lined the grassy bank, their crown of leaves waving in the wind as the dark earthenware pots fastened at their tops gently clattered. The sap collected into the pots would then be fermented to toddy, a mildly intoxicating drink.
“While I don’t mind a spot of mindless activity, Veer, what exactly are we doing? Working as common laborers isn’t going to bring us close to the idol,” said Billadev under his breath, climbing down from the cart and looking around cautiously.
Billadev’s question was quite valid. Veer shaded his eyes with a hand and observed the towering temple spire that was visible for miles.
The temple was built many years ago by King Amarendra. The town that grew around it carried the same name.
Previous scout missions had revealed little. Apparently, there had been some rise in bandit attacks recently that had the town’s people on an edge. No one could be bribed to reveal any kind of details, especially to strangers.
He might have appreciated their principles more if it didn’t make his task harder.
A couple of days had passed since they arrived, disguised as a family from Amaravathi. It was nothing but luck that they could reach the Temple City of Brihadeeshwar at all.
Saved by his wife, of all people. All these days, he had taken his powers for granted. It was a rude shock to discover there were creatures that were immune. And that he may not be the only one who was wielding magic.
For all her avowals of hating magical prowess, the princess had managed to keep her own abilities under wraps. It made his eye twitch, wondering what else she was keeping a secret from him.
The night following the monster battle, when they had found shelter at an inn, he had heard her cry out in her sleep. He almost broke down her door, but Girish, standing guard outside her locked room, informed him that this was normal.
