The Third Eye (19 page)

“Zarku has indeed become very strong. He has been capturing the souls of all the villagers he's hypnotized. I am sure that he has made Kubera, the Lord of the Underworld,
very happy. They have been feeding each other with power,” said Prabala, wringing his hands.

“Don't worry, Father. I am sure you will be more than a match for him. You are the best healer ever. And you have the blessings of the gods,” she said.

She smiled at him, confidence radiating from her beautiful face. Prabala smiled back.

“What about Lord Yama?” asked Tara. “Isn't he going to be angry that he has been cheated out of the souls of the dead?” she asked Prabala.

“I am sure he must be very angry. But Kubera is very happy with Zarku at the moment. Zarku is feeding him with live souls, making him extremely powerful. Lord Yama can only claim the dead. This makes him less useful to Kubera right now.”

Prabala continued his pacing, muttering under his breath while everyone prepared for their journey into Morni.

•••

Tara stole out of the cave unseen. She emerged into the cold night. Bright stars twinkled overhead and the moon shone from a corner of the sky. She slipped the conch shell out of her pocket and put it to her mouth. The cold shell against her warm lips made her shiver. She took a deep breath and blew hard. The sound of a hundred waves crashing onto the shore ensued from it, startling her. She looked around
to see if anyone had heard it. She expected Ananth to come racing out. No one came.
Maybe Lord Yama and I are the only
ones who can hear it
, she thought.

She blew into the shell again. This time a silvery tinkle floated out. It was beautiful and soothing. Still, no one heard it and there was no sign of Lord Yama.

She blew into it a third time and the sound of a hundred galloping horses erupted from the conch. She almost dropped the shell in surprise. The night seemed undisturbed.

Tara stood alone at the edge of the clearing. Was this a joke Lord Yama had played on her? There was no sign of him. Her eyes searched the dense foliage for signs of life. Nothing stirred. Her shoulders sagged and she headed back to the cave.

Clip-clop.

The familiar sound reached her eager ears and she turned back, relief flooding through her as she slipped the conch back into her pocket. Lord Yama and his bull appeared before her. He had come — he had heard her call. Yama dismounted and beckoned to Tara to step into the shadows.

“What is it, Tara? You look very troubled.”

Tara folded her hands and bowed. To have the God of Death be so kind to her was unimaginable.

“Our village is in grave danger from Zarku and his army. We need your help, Lord Yama,” she said in a shaky voice.

“Tara, I know all about Zarku and his cheap tricks. He has been capturing the souls of the villagers of Morni, Ropar, and hundreds of other villages. He has currently earned the goodwill of Kubera. But not for long ... not for long,” said Lord Yama.

His face was a grim mask. He balled his right hand into a fist and smacked it into his left palm with a resounding thwack.

“Lord Yama, can you help us? We are going to the village tonight. My grandfather, Prabala, is going to face Zarku and force him to free the villagers. I am afraid that his skills may not be a match for Zarku. If you were to fight with us ...”

Lord Yama shook his head sadly. Tara's heart sank.

“Why not?” she asked.

“My hands are tied, Tara. I cannot do too much. I can only claim the souls of the dead. What Zarku is doing is evil. I cannot do the same or I will be banished forever from the clan of the gods. He is evil and will always be an outcast.”

Tara's face fell. They would never have a chance.

“Have faith in your grandfather. He is more powerful than you think. He can and will defeat Zarku.”

Tara shook her head. “Ananth and I have faced Zarku's army. They are so many and we are so few. I am very afraid.”

Her chest heaved with sobs. She sank down on the ground and buried her head in her hands. Lord Yama clasped her thin, shaking shoulder.

“Tara, you worry too much. Everything will be all right. You don't need me.”

Tara wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and stood up.

“But we do, Lord Yama, ...
we do
! You gave me the conch shell when I came back from the cave. You said you'd help me if I needed you.”

Lord Yama watched her closely without uttering a word.

Tara knelt and clasped her hands together. “Lord Yama, you are most powerful and wise. A mere girl like me could never dream of helping you, but someday,
someday
, you might need my help. I will do anything you ask of me.”

Yama threw back his head and laughed.

“Oh, Tara! You never fail to astound me with your bravery and, yes, sometimes your utter foolishness. But once again you have won me over. I will help you and will remember your words if I should need help
someday
.”

“You promise?” she asked, looking into his coal-black eyes.

Lord Yama nodded. “Now, go back before you are missed. Tell no one about this,” he warned.

Tara skipped back to the cave, smiling.

“What are you so happy about?” asked Ananth.

“Nothing, nothing at all,” said Tara, though her eyes continued to sparkle.

“It's time to go,” announced Prabala.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at
him. He stood up straight and, in spite of the gaunt frame, the power and confidence that radiated from him stilled the doubts in their hearts.

“You will
all
do as I say. Our lives depend on this. No one will do as they please. No arguments. Is that understood?”

Everyone nodded.

Tara shouldered the heavy bundle she was used to carrying.

“Leave that, Tara,” commanded Prabala. “We can fetch it later. Right now we need to get back to Morni as quickly as we can.”

Tara dropped the bundle and followed Prabala out of the cave.

•••

They began the descent to Morni. The path was steep and twisted, like the coils of a gigantic serpent. Tara was excited and nervous at the same time so that her stomach churned and her hands were icy. She strained her ears to catch the clip-clop of hooves. She did not hear anything.

I hope he does not desert us,
she prayed.

Soma flooded the path with a silvery light. A biting wind swept down the mountainside. They descended the mountain in a single file. It became colder, and Tara's hands and feet grew more numb. The hairs in her nose were frozen from inhaling the frigid air. At every step a
voice nagged her ...

You've forgotten something, Tara. Something very important.

Tara wracked her brains, but she couldn't think of anything. She patted the conch shell in her pocket. It was the most important thing she would need right now.

After what seemed like hours, a light twinkled in the distance: Morni!

They reached the outskirts of the village and the feeling of danger and panic was palpable. Tara's heart started hammering. She looked at Ananth. His smile looked more like a grimace. Suraj clutched Parvati's hand tightly. Gayatri followed silently, darting anxious looks around her at every step. Only Prabala strode forward confidently.

Not a sound disturbed the still air, which was heavy with the stench of fear. Prabala led the way to the nearest hut. He beckoned to Ananth and pointed to the hut. Ananth nodded and walked toward it. Prabala turned to the rest of the group, put a finger on his lips, and held up his palm. Then he turned and followed Ananth. All eyes turned to Ananth, who had peeped into the hut through the window and was now looking back, his eyes wide open with horror. Prabala quickened his pace. Tara could stand it no longer. She took a step in the direction of the hut and stopped.

“Ow,” she yelped softly.

Parvati had reached out and grabbed Tara's plait to stop her from walking away.

“Stay here,” hissed Parvati.

“I have to go, Mother,” Tara replied in a very low murmur. “I must see what's going on.” She slipped out of her mother's grasp before Parvati could utter another word and ran to take a look. Prabala and Ananth were already inside. Tara reached the window and peeped in. She clapped her hands to her mouth.

Inside were a mother and her two children, motionless. The woman's mouth was wide open in a silent scream. The first child was huddled close to his mother, crying. Tears, glistening like pearls in the silvery moonlight, were frozen on his cheeks. The second boy was sprawled near the door. He must have charged at whoever entered the hut and been flung aside. He lay on the ground, clutching his bleeding head.

The terror on their faces was so contagious that Tara shuddered. Could it have been Zarku who had entered? Unable to look upon them any longer, Tara turned and, on shaky legs, made her way back to her mother. Parvati shot her an angry look, but before she could say anything, Prabala and Ananth returned.

“It's horrible in there. Let's go. There is nothing we can do at the moment,” said Prabala.

They made their way to the next hut and the next. Every hut was the same. The women and children were frozen in eternal terror.

“Do you notice a pattern, Dada?” Ananth asked Prabala in a whisper.

“The men are all gone,” said Prabala in a grim voice.
“Zarku has claimed all the men of the village.”

“This means that we will be fighting our own friends and family,” Tara whispered in dismay.

“They are now under the influence of Zarku,” said Prabala. “Till they are freed, they are all Vetalas. If you don't kill them first, they will kill you. We've seen enough. Let's go to my hut.”

They passed a few white-washed huts that glinted silver in the light of the full moon and reached Prabala's hut. It was deserted, yet they moved cautiously. Prabala pushed open the rickety door that hung awkwardly from a single hinge. It opened inward and moonlight lit up the interior. Parvati moaned.

“Oh Father, just look at the state of your beloved home.”

Prabala looked around with a pained expression. He avoided stepping on the pieces of clay and glass that littered the floor. Blood and feathers lay strewn about. The stench of decaying meat, soured milk, and vomit was so strong that Gayatri rushed to the window and retched. She took a deep breath, trying to draw some fresh air into her lungs.

“This is ghastly,” she gasped.

“He has defiled my home, the evil wretch,” thundered Prabala. “He will pay for this.”

“Dada, I can smell something burning,” said Suraj.

Prabala looked down at Suraj, who was tugging at his dhoti.

“Are you sure, Suraj? I cannot smell any ... you're
right! Something is burning.” He strode to the window and looked out. A faint glow was visible behind the huts. The smell of burning grew stronger and his nostrils flared. He went back to the centre of the hut.

“Someone find me a lantern. Quick.”

Everyone scattered.

“Tara, come here,” called out Prabala.

Tara came up to him. Prabala drew out the rudraksha from his dhoti, where it was tucked securely at the waist, and handed it to Tara.

“Tie this on my right arm, hurry,” he said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

Tara tied it to his arm with trembling hands. Prabala continued to twist and turn, trying to peer out the window and to the back of the hut at the same time.

“I've found one,” Ananth called out from the kitchen. “But it's broken and empty.”

“Never mind, give it here,” said Prabala.

He tapped the lantern with his staff and uttered a few words. A flame leapt up and he thrust the lantern back into Ananth's hands.

“I want all of you to stay in this hut. I am going to put a spell around it. You will be safe here. Zarku or the Vetalas will be unable to enter the hut.”

“I cannot let you go alone, Father,” said Parvati. “I am coming with you.”

“So am I,” said Ananth.

“No one is coming with me. I want no arguments.
This is not a game.”

The smell of burning was a lot stronger. Light flickered outside the window and the glow was almost as bright as the lantern in Ananth's hands.

“Oh my God! He has set the village on fire,” shrieked Gayatri. “All those women and children in the huts, they'll be burnt and they won't even know it.”

Her voice cracked and she started sobbing.

“Not yet, Gayatri,” said Prabala. “The houses are not on fire. Zarku has lit a ring of fire around the village to prevent anyone from escaping, including us. The fire will creep inward slowly, but before that I will stop him.
I MUST.
”

“But you will need help,” Tara piped in. “Let me come with you.”

“No, I will go alone. This amulet is all the protection I need. I will concentrate better if I know all of you are safe. Stay here till I return.”

“But,” started Tara.

“Enough,” roared Prabala. He flung his hand at the window. “Just look outside. Do you think I can fight that madman if even one member of my family is in danger? Not a word more ... from ANYONE!” he shouted as he pounded his staff on the floor. The amulet slid off his arm and fell to the ground, landing under a piece of broken clay. No one saw it but Tara. They were too busy staring at Prabala's thunderous face.

Tara went cold; she had not tied the rudraksha tightly
enough. She had to tell him and re-tie it.

“Grandfather ...,” said Tara hesitantly.

“
NOT ANOTHER WORD, I SAID!
” he bellowed.

“But all I wanted to say was ...”

Prabala's face twisted with rage and his nostrils flared as he breathed heavily.

“Enough, Tara! You should know when to keep your mouth shut,” said Parvati.

Suraj, Ananth, and Gayatri observed the heated exchange between Prabala and Tara in silence. Prabala strode to the door, turned, and looked back at Parvati.