the silver anklet
—tara trilogy—
mahtab narsimhan
Copyright © Mahtab Narsimhan, 2009
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise (except for brief passages for purposes of review) without the prior permission of Dundurn Press. Permission to photocopy should be requested from Access Copyright.
Edited by Shannon Whibbs
Designed by Courtney Horner
Printed and bound in Canada by Webcom
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Narsimhan, Mahtab
The silver anklet / by Mahtab Narsimhan.
(Tara trilogy ; 2)
ISBN 978-1-55488-445-2
I. Title. II. Series: Narsimhan, Mahtab. Tara trilogy ; 2.
PS8627.A77S56 2009 jC813’.6 C2009-903262-7
1 2 3 4 5 13 12 11 10 09
We acknowledge the support of the Canada Council for the Arts and the Ontario Arts Council for our publishing program. We also acknowledge the financial support of the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program and The Association for the Export of Canadian Books, and the Government of Ontario through the Ontario Book Publishers Tax Credit program, and the Ontario Media Development Corporation.
Care has been taken to trace the ownership of copyright material used in this book. The author and the publisher welcome any information enabling them to rectify any references or credits in subsequent editions.
J. Kirk Howard, President
Printed and Bound in Canada.
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For Vicky, Mazarine, and Aziz
Table of Contents
One - Hyenas!
Two - Five into the Forest
Three - Rohan
Four - The Temple
Five - Captured!
Six - Zarku
Seven - Possessed
Eight - The Final Feast
Nine - Hide and Seek
Ten - Reprieve
Eleven - An Unknown Voice
Twelve - The Pit and the Plan
Thirteen - The Fist
Fourteen - Race to the River
Fifteen - Kabir
Sixteen - The Fist Unfurls
Seventeen - Sadia
Eighteen - The Voice of Madness
Nineteen - Into the Cave
Twenty - Zara
Twenty-one - The Dagger
Twenty-two - The Last Wish
Twenty-three - The Evil Doubles
Twenty-four - The Silver Anklet
Acknowledgements
— one —
Hyenas!
The patch of sunlight at the edge of the forest had an odd look; dirty yellow and striped. Tara squinted hard and before her very eyes it moved, took shape, stood up: a yellow-eyed hyena! Glistening ropes of drool swung from its powerful jaws. It opened its mouth, revealing a jagged row of dirty teeth. It laughed.
“Ananth!” yelled Tara. She stumbled backward at the edge of the fairgrounds, not taking her eyes off the beast that hadn’t taken its eyes off her. She whirled round. “COME QUICK!”
Ananth dropped the ice-lollies he had just bought from a vendor and ran toward her. “What’s the matter?” he called out. “What happened?”
“Faster! Oh my God! Just look.” Tara was paralyzed by the vision. The hyena retreated into thick bushes at the edge of the forest till only its snout showed.
Tara turned to face Ananth. Turned back. It was gone.
“What … happened … Tara?” Ananth gasped for breath, his face streaming with sweat.
“Here,” said Tara. She jabbed the air with her finger. “I saw a huge hyena right here and it was staring at me. Oh God, Ananth, it was massive. It looked — I don’t know — hungry…”
Ananth stared at her for a moment, aghast, uncomprehending. Then he burst out laughing. “Good one, Tara. You’re kidding, right? That was brilliant!”
“Ananth, stop laughing. I’m serious. I saw the hyena as clearly as I see you. Stop laughing, I said! ”
“That’s enough, Tara.” Ananth pulled her toward the fair. “Joke’s over.”
All around them the annual fair in the village of Ambala was at its peak of colour and noise. Along the periphery of the field, vendors hawked their wares: clothes, pots and pans, jewellery and handmade crafts. In the centre of the grounds the rides whizzed around. The food stalls, selling everything from sweets and snacks to biryani, thronged with people.
“I’m not joking,” said Tara. She wanted to shake that smirk off his face. Why wouldn’t he believe her?
Ananth stopped near one of the stalls and pointed to the ground. Two damp patches littered with wooden sticks marked the spot where he had thrown the ice-lollies. “Couldn’t you have played your joke after we finished those? What a waste! You’re buying the next round.”
Tara resolutely looked away, refusing to answer him. Had she really imagined it? Was it just the midday heat that had made her see that horrible beast? Those searing yellow eyes and powerful jaws still made her pulse race. She shuddered, absolutely sure she hadn’t been dreaming and met Ananth’s gaze defiantly.
“Hyenas haven’t been seen in the Kalesar forest for years, Tara. If you had to pick an animal to yell about, you could have at least picked something like — I don’t know — maybe a wild boar? We have plenty of those …”
“I know what I saw. You can say what you like.” She glared at Ananth. He may have been her brother, but at this moment she had not a gram of sisterly feeling toward him.
“Didi,” a voice cried. “Didi, Didi, I want some more money!” Tara’s anger melted away instantly at the sight of her younger brother, Suraj. He raced up to her and tugged at her sleeve, his best friend Rohan close behind.
“You can’t have spent your money already,” said Tara. “We’ve been here for just over an hour!”
Suraj nudged his friend.
“We did, Tara-didi,” Rohan said. “Please, just enough for another ride on the Ferris wheel. Pleeease? ”
The wooden Ferris wheel, its giant spokes covered with red, blue, and green ribbons, whizzed through the air, holding screaming children in its many-cupped arms. Beside it, a battered merry-go-round with black and white horses bobbed up and down, slicing through the cloud of heat and flies. Tinny Hindi music blared from a speaker mounted on its ragged canopy. Children stood impatiently in double lines, awaiting their turn.
Tara sighed. “All right, just one more ride and then both of you come straight back to me. If I’m not here, look for me. Understand?”
They nodded, arms outstretched, faces distorted with extra-wide grins. Tara pulled some coins from her pocket and picked out a rupee for each. A third person appeared alongside, arm outstretched.
“For me, too,” said Layla, their stepsister.
Suraj shifted away slightly, his smile dimming.
“I don’t have any more to spare,” said Tara. The sight of Layla always reminded her of her evil stepmother, Kali. She tried not to snap at Layla.
“But you do, you do!” said Layla, her voice shrill.
“I’ll tell your mother you’re being mean to me again.”
Tara hesitated for a mom
ent, then pulled out a coin from her pocket and slapped it on Layla’s palm. Layla did not bother to thank her as she waddled after Suraj and Rohan.
“Come right back, Suraj, Rohan,” Tara yelled after them. “I’ll be waiting.”
Layla stopped, turned around. “Don’t worry, Tara.
I’ll look after them well.” People passed by in front of her and she barely caught a glimpse of those mean black eyes that glittered in Layla’s pudgy face. When Tara could see her again, Layla was already walking away.
“That’s precisely what I am worried about,” mut–tered Tara when she saw her stepsister catch up with the boys. “I don’t trust her. Not one bit.”
“Oh forget about her, Tara,” said Ananth. “What could happen to them in the mela on this fine, sunny day? It’s time we had fun, too. What do you want to do first?”
“Let’s walk around, take a look,” said Tara. “I don’t want to wander too far from here till Suraj and Rohan come back.”
They strolled along the periphery of the fair. The Ferris wheel was still, hordes of children gathered at its base, waiting to climb on board. It was close enough. Suraj would be fine. He was growing up so quickly. Still, after almost losing him once, she hated to let him out of her sight for even a short period of time.
“Just one second, Ananth.” Tara darted back to the Ferris wheel. An overweight boy with a smiling, round face was in charge. Tara leaned against the barrier and watched him for a minute; he seemed to be enjoying himself almost as much as the children.
“Hey!” she called out.
The boy glanced at her.
“Large crowd today, isn’t it?” said Tara.
The boy nodded, his cheeks jiggling, his eyes sparkling. “Lucky for us!” He unhitched the bar on a seat that rocked gently. Two girls sat there leaning back, clutching the sides tightly. He reached out with his strong arms. The girls shook their heads.
“Come on,” said the boy, smiling. “The others want a turn, too. Here grab my arms, I’ll show you something else that’s fun.”
The girls grasped his arms and clung on. The boy lifted them into the air simultaneously, swung them over the exit barrier and deposited them gently onto the ground. Squealing their thanks, they ran off.
Tara couldn’t help but smile at his ingenuity.
Two boys got into the vacated seat, squirming to get comfortable as they wedged their feet against the footbar. “You’re doing a great job with these kids,” said Tara. “They really like you.”
The boy shrugged. “I love doing this, too.”
“My name’s Tara, and those two are my brother and his friend.” She pointed out Rohan and Suraj waiting in line. “Rohan’s in the yellow shirt and Suraj is wearing the white kurta-pajama. Keep an eye on them will you, please?”
“I’m Vayu,” said the boy. “No problem, I’ll watch out for them.” He swung two more children over the exit gate and helped another two into an empty seat.
Ananth had caught up to her. “Planning on telling every person at the fair to keep an eye on Suraj?” He addressed Vayu. “You got asked, too, right?”
Tara blushed and punched Ananth on the shoulder “Shut up.”
Vayu smiled at Ananth. “I really don’t mind. Are you coming back for them?”
“No, just tell them to look for us,” said Tara. “We won’t be too far from here. Probably near the performers in the centre of the field. And don’t let either of them back on the ride. I think they’ve both had enough.
Vayu nodded. All the seats were full with a fresh lot of screaming children. Tara watched him secure the barrier once more, move the crowds waiting in line farther back, and sit on his high stool to start the ride.
“Happy now?” said Ananth. “Can we go do something interesting?”
Tara nodded absently, looking around her. “It’s really crowded this year. I’ve never seen so many people at the fair in a long time.”
“I heard the river’s not been too flooded this year,” said Ananth. “So many people are coming by boat from as far as Hissar. In fact, the waterway has more boats on it than ever before, and not just near the villages, either. It’s easier to get to the forest for hunting and gathering firewood by boat than on foot!”
Tara barely heard him. She glanced once more toward the trees at the edge of the fairgrounds. Something caught her eye, a dark shape within the deep shadows, as if someone was hiding and watching them. She dug her nails into Ananth’s arm. He winced.
“Ananth!” said Tara. “Did you see that? Something moved under that tree there.”
“What?” said Ananth. He gazed in the direction she was pointing. “Where?”
“There, near that tree.” Tara waggled her finger.
“It’s not moving anymore. But look carefully and you might see it.”
“I don’t see anything,” said Ananth in a sharp voice.
He looked away as he rubbed his arm.
“Something’s wrong.” Tara stared but could only see shadows once again. “You think it could be something like … last time?” Her voice tapered off. Spoken aloud, the very thought seemed absurd, impossible. “Or then maybe the hyenas have returned …”
“For God’s sake, Tara!” said Ananth. “He’s dead, remember? Just because you were right once, doesn’t mean there’s danger around you all the time. And I’ve told you before there are no hyenas in this part of the forest.”
“Stop yelling at me,” said Tara. “You’re not always right, either.”
But she had to admit he had a point. This was a normal day at a fair. What could possibly go wrong?
Zarku was dead. She had been the one to reduce him to ashes. These had been sealed in an urn and she’d heard Lord Yama promise to bury it so that it would never be found. Ananth was right this time and yet …why did she feel so uneasy?
“I’m sorry, Tara,” said Ananth. “Let’s not fight. I want to have fun today. Come on, already.” He was looking about him as eagerly as Suraj had a few moments ago.
Should she tell him about the silver anklet she had taken to wearing these last few days? It was clasped securely around her ankle, hidden underneath her shalwar. It had belonged to Zarku’s mother and had once saved her from his wrath. Whether it would work again, she did not know, but the solid weight of it gave her a modicum of comfort.
Fingers snapped in her face and she jerked out of her reverie.
“Wake up, Kumbhkaran,” said Ananth. “Want me to win you something at the archery stall or do you plan on standing here indefinitely, waiting for Suraj to return?”
Tara opened her mouth. Ananth raised his hand. “No, don’t bother to answer that. You’re coming with me.”
They had been through so much together, Ananth and she. They had vowed to be brother and sister even though they were unrelated by blood. Tara noticed that he still wore the ragged thread that she had tied on his wrist in lieu of a real rakhi when they had first met. Already he was a head taller than her with a mop of curly black hair and serious black eyes that often twinkled when he was teasing her.
“Is this just another ploy to show off?” asked Tara. She tried to sound annoyed, but his infectious smile made it difficult.
“Me, show off?” said Ananth. “Never!”
“Oh, all right, let’s go,” said Tara. She glanced at the Ferris wheel one last time and followed Ananth.
They waded into the fairgrounds, thick with wandering animals, people, and above all, the tantalizing aromas of food. The late afternoon sun burnished everything to gold and even the air seemed to sparkle.
Ananth pulled her through the crowds to the archery stall. Three brightly coloured plastic parakeets stood on perches some distance away from the counter. There was just one customer ahead of them and he was hopeless.
Tara watched him miss all three tries and walk away, shoulders slumped, muttering under his breath. The stall owner turned his shrewd gaze on them.
“Try your luck and win a beautiful doll or bear,” he sang, waving
his bony hand at the row of bright new toys on shelves in the tiny stall.
Ananth examined the two bows on the table.
“These are definitely rigged,” he whispered to Tara.
“How can you tell?” she whispered back.
“By the string. It’s too slack. The arrow can’t go far.”
“What are you looking at, young man?” said the owner. “Go on, win something for your girlfriend, don’t be shy,” he said. He picked up a bow and three arrows and handed them to Ananth. “Only one rupee!”
She’s my sister,” said Ananth. “And this bow is horrible. Do you have another one?”
“Hey!” said the owner. “Who are you to tell me that my bows are not good? If you can’t shoot, move on.
Stop maligning my good name.” He glanced around quickly. A steady stream of people swept past his stall.
No one stopped or even looked his way.
“A bad marksman always blames the bow,” said Tara softly. She leaned against the counter and smiled at Ananth. “Sure you can shoot?”
“A good marksman will get his target in spite of a bad bow,” said Ananth. “Watch closely and learn!”
Ananth picked up the bow and arrow and took aim. The arrow shot away from him and missed. Red-faced, he snuck a glance at Tara. “I wasn’t focusing,” he said.
“Ahhhh,” said Tara. She tried hard not to smile.
The owner smirked. “That happens to the best of us. Try again.”
Ananth raised the bow, fitted another arrow, took a deep breath and released it. It hit the mark. The parakeet keeled over and hung upside-down from its wooden perch. The smile slid off the owner’s face. Ananth took aim and shot the third arrow. The last parakeet fell over.
“Two out of three,” yelled Ananth. “Yesss!
”
“Not bad,” said Tara. “Not bad at all.”
“Very good, very good,” said the owner. His sour expression belied his words.
Ananth dropped the bow on the counter. “So, what have I won?” he asked, rubbing his hands together.
The owner brought a bedraggled bear and a cheap doll from under the counter. “Since you didn’t hit all three targets, this is your choice.”
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