The Silver Anklet

by Mahtab Narsimhan

  Behind her Vayu halted, too. “Are you all right?” he asked.

  Tara stooped and whipped the anklet off her foot. She clutched it tightly in her hand. “I’m fine,” she said. The cold silver bit into her palm, giving her a small measure of relief. If it fell off they would have no protection at all. Let Ananth laugh right now, but she knew. She knew in her heart that something had begun the moment the children had been snatched and she was afraid.

  There was a loud slap. Tara whirled round.

  “Mosquito,” said Vayu. He held out his palm. It was streaked with blood. The insects swarmed around them, enveloping them in a bubble of incessant noise and itchy bites. She wiped her sweaty face and waved her arms around her. It was futile. Ananth walked on, ignoring the buzzing, conserving his energy. A mosquito flew up her nose. She promptly pinched it — one less to worry about from the millions that surrounded her.

  Ananth had taken the lead with Raani and Kabir following. She and Vayu brought up the rear. Vayu gasped and wheezed as he plodded behind Tara. He seemed to be the least fit of them all. Would he last till they reached the children? The thought nagged her more incessantly than the mosquitoes.

  They had been walking steadily for a while now.

  Ananth peered intently at the path ahead.

  “Should we rest?” said Raani in a muffled voice.

  She had swaddled her head in her dupatta and only her forehead showed, shiny with sweat. “We’ve been walking for ages. Don’t you think we should stop and er … discuss things?”

  “No. It’s too early,” said Ananth. “When it’s pitch-black we won’t be able to move as quickly.”

  “Why d’ you think I’m here?” said Raani. “Light or no light, we’ll still be able to go on. But I have to rest now. I’m exhausted.”

  “Ananth’s right,” said Tara. “We can’t stop now. Surely you can hang on for a little longer?”

  “Kabir, what do you say?” asked Raani. There was a whine in her voice that made Tara itch to slap her.

  “No,” he said. “Sadia is counting on me and Suraj must be feeling the same way. We have to forget about us and think of them, and if possible, move faster!”

  Raani sucked in her breath.

  “It’s all right, Raani,” said Vayu. “We’re coming up to a clearing in a short while. If we’re lucky, there might still be that hidden stream — oooffff!”

  Vayu tripped and fell flat on his face.

  “Are you all right?” said Tara. She knelt to help him.

  “Can’t even watch where he’s going,” Raani muttered loud enough to be heard. “Why on earth anyone would name him after the wind is beyond me. Clumsy oaf.”

  Vayu stood up immediately. “I’m fine. Sorry, sorry … just tripped!”

  “Careful,” said Ananth. “Let’s go.”

  Tara’s ears burned, wondering what Vayu must be going through because of this verbal attack. She wanted to shake the arrogance and meanness out of Raani, but instead she focused on the path ahead; the forest was getting more treacherous by the minute.

  They plodded onward, pulling aside thick vines, ducking under low branches, trying not to trip on exposed roots. The light was so dim now, Tara could barely discern Kabir’s tall figure ahead of her. At least we don’t have any animals to fight off, thought Tara thankfully.

  At that very moment something grunted. It was soft, but menacing.

  “What was that?” said Raani.

  “Shhh,” said Kabir. “Wild boar, I think.”

  Instantly, Tara remembered a young boy from Morni who had been badly mauled by a boar — it hadn’t been a pretty sight. But where was the animal hiding? She turned her head, trying not to move her body or let a single leaf rustle.

  They all froze, listening intently.

  “Can anyone see it? Raani, can you?” said Vayu softly. “Shall we run?”

  “Stand still,” whispered Ananth. “Running is the last thing we should do. It’ll show itself.”

  As if on cue, a dark shape trotted out of the bushes to their right, followed by four smaller shadows.

  “A wild sow,” breathed Kabir. “They’re very, very dangerous. No one move!”

  The sow sniffed the air. Her eyes glowed like embers in the dark. Behind her they saw four tiny pinpricks of red light. Tara stared at them, ready to run the moment they moved. The sow gave one more grunt, turned and trotted back into the bushes, babies in tow.

  Tara exhaled, her lungs bursting for air. “That was very close,” she said. “Raani, I thought you were keeping an eye out. Couldn’t you have warned us?”

  “I am keeping an eye out,” snapped Raani, “on the path ahead. If you want me to look out for animals, you walk ahead and help Ananth. I can’t do two things at once.”

  “Oh, come on you two,” said Ananth. “Stop it! No one could have seen that sow — she was well-hidden. The important thing is that we all kept our heads and no one got hurt.”

  Tara did not bother to reply, nor did Raani. More dank forest, rogue branches, and clouds of mosquitoes slid past. Then it was pitch-black. One moment she could see the silhouettes of her companions and the next, nothing. Not even her hand in front of her face.

  The forest was alive around them. Tara moved closer to her companions, their laboured breathing her only guide now. Branches rustled overhead. Tara’s skin crawled as she remembered the python above Suraj’s head when they had last escaped into the forest.

  “You better take the lead, Raani,” said Ananth. “Find someplace where we can rest for a short while. I don’t want to light the lanterns just yet. Oh, and keep a lookout for any animals. If they decide to attack now, we’re doomed.”

  They all slowed while Ananth and Raani switched places.

  “Hold on to the person in front of you,” said Raani, “and follow me. I think I see a clearing up ahead.”

  Tara held onto Kabir’s sweaty shoulder. Vayu’s hand rested light on hers. Though the heat from his hand seared her burning skin, it was comforting. The darkness was a living thing, intent on smothering her. She took a few deep breaths to calm her racing pulse, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.

  “Oh my God!” breathed Raani. “Oh no.” Tara bumped into Kabir in front of her and realized he had stopped.

  “What happened?” Tara asked. “Is it that sow again?

  Should we run?”

  “What is it?” asked Kabir.

  Raani was silent. What had she seen? Was it so horrible that she was paralyzed with fear? Tara tensed, ready to flee. But in which direction? In the darkness, it was all one and the same.

  “Raani, what is it?” asked Ananth. “Don’t stand there like a damn fool. What d’ you see?”

  “I-I see …” she said, and fell silent again.

  “Speak up, Raani, or I’ll slap it out of you,” said Tara. “Stop scaring us.” Her stomach was in knots. Why didn’t Raani say something?

  “It’s not an animal,” said Raani. “Light the lantern.

  Quick.”

  It’s him, thought Tara, he’s here. She was right. He had come back.

  There was a faint clinking, the striking of a match. The flare momentarily lit the clearing ahead. It was empty. Tara breathed a deep sigh of relief. That Raani! She should have been called Drama Queen instead of Night Queen.

  Darkness slithered away as soon as Ananth lit the wick in the lantern. Raani was not with them. She was crouched a short distance away, staring at the ground. They ran toward her, their gigantic shadows keeping pace.

  Tara stopped just behind Raani. Her throat closed up. Her heart pounded against her chest.

  They had found Rohan.

  — four —

  The Temple

  Tara dropped to her knees, trembling. The heat had inexplicably disappeared, replaced by a numbing chill.

  She stared at Rohan. His sightless eyes stared back at her, an expression of horror frozen on his face. He looked like he had been in a struggle; his arms and legs were covered
with bite marks, his ripped clothes stiff with dried blood.

  He was dead.

  “No! Oh no,” she sobbed. “NO!”

  Only a few hours ago this face had smiled up at her.

  Begged for money for a ride on the Ferris wheel. She would have given anything to turn back the clock. If only she had known what was in store for him, she would have kept a tight hold of Rohan till she took him back to Morni with Suraj. Ananth pulled Tara to her feet.

  She sobbed into his shoulder, aching to do something, anything, but aware that there was nothing she could do to bring him back to life.

  “Shhhh, Tara,” he said. “Get a hold of yourself. It’ll … it’ll be all right.” His voice trembled, a leaf in a breeze.

  She pushed his arms away. “How can you say that? Rohan’s dead. Suraj and Sadia are still missing. It’s my fault — I should never have let them out of my sight. What have I done? How am I to live with this? I killed him!”

  “It’s the hyenas, Tara,” said Ananth. “They could have chosen anyone.”

  Tara looked at him steadily, dashing away a tear. “But they didn’t choose just anyone. They chose my brother and his friend.”

  “What I don’t understand,” said Kabir, “is why the hyenas didn’t … you know … it’s not like them to leave …” He was unable to finish the sentence. Tara stared at him in horror.

  What if they had killed Suraj first and had their fill so that there was no room for Rohan? What if there wasn’t even a bone of Suraj left by the hyenas? Nausea bubbled up inside her throat. Darkness slithered back toward her, pressing upon her, pulling her down. She was almost ready to succumb and never wake up to face the fact that Suraj had probably died a very painful death. And so had his friend Rohan.

  “Tara, are you all right?” asked Vayu. His heavy hand rested on her shoulder. She shook her head and wiped her eyes. Suraj was still alive. She would have known if something had happened to him. He was waiting to be rescued. They had to hurry.

  “This is weird,” said Vayu.

  “What is?” asked Tara.

  “Look here, at his forehead,” said Vayu. He shone the lantern on Rohan’s face. Tara forced herself to look at him again. In the middle of his forehead was a dark shadow in the shape of a tear, as if that spot had been singed. A cold hand squeezed her heart.

  “There’s no way a hyena could have given him that mark,” said Tara. “No way at all.”

  “He could have bumped into a tree,” said Ananth.

  His voice was soft, undecided. Kabir paced the clearing.

  “What could have done something like that?” asked Vayu.

  “There is one person who has a mark on his forehead,” said Tara. “Exactly where this one is.”

  “Can’t you ever give up this foolishness, Tara?” said Ananth.

  Tara ignored him and stared at the others around her.

  She took a deep breath. “Zarku is back. He’s responsible for this.”

  “Stop it!” said Raani. “You’re just trying to scare us.”

  “And you should be,” said Tara. “I’ve had this uneasy feeling for days now. I even took to wearing this at all time,” she said. She whipped the silver anklet from her pocket and held it out. It lay coiled in her palm; a tiny, cold snake and surprisingly heavy.

  “You’re showing us your jewellery at a time like this?” said Kabir. “Are you mad, Tara?”

  Tara wanted to shake Kabir till his bones rattled. Could he really be that stupid? But she restrained herself. It would do her no good to lose her temper now. “This is no ordinary anklet. It belonged to Zarku’s mother,” she said. “It may be the only thing that could protect us from him. The best part is that Zarku doesn’t even know I have it.”

  “Then how did you get it?”asked Raani. Her eyes narrowed as she searched Tara’s face. “Did you steal it?”

  Tara clasped the anklet tightly in her fist and shook her head. “The night that Suraj disappeared, I thought I had lost him forever. I was all alone, ready to give up on life, too. I heard someone crying. The sound drew me to the abandoned temple deep within the forest. I was shocked at first and very afraid when I saw it was Zarku. He was talking to someone.” She rubbed her chilled arms as the memory of that dark night enveloped her once more; of Zarku discovering her, attempting to burn her to death and failing. It had been a night as dark as this one, but no one had died, certainly not an innocent child.

  Ananth did not look surprised — he’d heard this story already, but Raani, Kabir, and Vayu goggled at her.

  “He tried to kill you and you survived?”asked Kabir. “How?”

  “This anklet saved me,” said Tara. She opened her fist. It sparkled in the lamplight. Tara slipped it back into her pocket, feeling it drop all the way to the bottom, weighing down her kurta.

  “I heard his mother had died,” said Raani. “You’re making up stories just to sound important.”

  “She is dead,” said Tara. “He was talking to this anklet about killing Grandfather. I gasped out loud. He heard me and dragged me to the post where I hit my head hard. It fell into the folds of my shawl. Then when he caught me and tried to burn me with his third eye, it would not open. At the time I thought I was incredibly lucky. Now I know it was because of this.”

  “What has that got to do with the hyenas?” said Ananth. “I still say you’re making too much of this, Tara.

  The mark on Rohan’s forehead aside, this is definitely the work of an animal. Because of Zarku you became a hero and now you want to relive it again.”

  Ananth’s words could not have hurt more if he’d slapped her. “And you’re feeling left out, is it?” said Tara. Tears pricked her eyes. “Do you really think I would relive those moments when Zarku tried to burn me, just for a little bit of attention? You’re so wrong and in a short while I’ll prove it to you.”

  Ananth did not say a word. He looked away, a sulky expression on his face.

  “Enough, you two,” said Kabir. “What do we do now? Go on or go back?”

  “I think we should head to the temple where I saw him,” said Tara. “If we don’t find anything there, I’ll say

  I’m sorry. But for now, just listen to me, please. We have to hurry. God, I hope we’re not too late.”

  “Tara, you’re getting worked up for nothing,” said Ananth quietly. “And you’re scaring us.”

  “I think we should listen to her,” said Vayu. He was still staring at Rohan’s body. “This mark on his forehead was not made by a hyena. In fact, I’ve never seen anything like it. Have any of you?”

  No one said a word.

  “What are we going to do with Rohan?” said Tara. “We can’t just leave him here.”

  “We should bury him,” Ananth said, his voice faltering. “At least until we can take him home and give him a proper funeral.

  Kabir tested the ground with his toe and found a spot where the earth was soft. They all set to digging at a furious pace. Kabir tried to help, but when his arm popped out of the socket for the third time, Ananth made him stop.

  Tara concentrated on digging, though all she wanted to do was sit down and sob. Her eyes lingered on Rohan’s inert body. Just that morning she’d woken up and every–thing had been fine. Not in her worst nightmares had she thought that she would be digging a grave for her brother’s best friend by the end of the day. The world around her kept going blurry. She sniffed and dug, dug and sniffed.

  When the hole was deep enough, Ananth picked Rohan up gently and laid him in the grave, tucking his arms by his sides. Tara reached down and clasped his small hand. “I’m so sorry we didn’t get to you in time, Rohan,” she whispered. She gently caressed his face and closed his eyes that had been staring at her, at all of them, accusingly. His skin was cold. She said a little prayer as the others shovelled earth on him hastily. Little by little his small body disappeared till there was only disturbed earth to mark the spot where he lay.

  “We should move on,” said Kabir. “Sadia and Suraj are st
ill out there waiting for us.”

  “We have to mark this spot,” Tara said, “so we can come back for him.” The words stuck in her throat painfully, as if she had swallowed needles.

  “We’ve done all we can,” said Kabir. “Time’s running out.”

  “For Sadia you would have had the time,” snapped Tara. She clapped her hand on her mouth at Kabir’s stricken expression. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean —”

  “No,” said Kabir. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

  They collected rocks in silence and piled them on the grave in a pyramid.

  “Douse the lantern and let’s go,” said Ananth.

  “I’ll walk behind Raani,” said Tara. “We need to head toward the abandoned temple. That should be north of here and is probably the best place to start.”

  “And how am I supposed to know where that is?” said Raani. “There’s nothing to guide me. Not even a star, except you, Tara. You’re welcome to take the lead any time.”

  Tara sucked in her breath. She was only trying to help and all she had gotten so far was sarcasm and anger. If only Raani hadn’t come with them, they would have been better off. In fact she should have set out with only Kabir. They would have moved a lot faster and with much less bickering.

  “The moss grows on the south side of the trees in this forest, Raani,” said Vayu. “So if you keep an eye on the tree trunks and which side the moss is on, we will be heading north. Even if we are slightly off, we can correct it in the morning.”

  “That’s really smart, Vayu,” said Tara. “Thanks!”

  Everyone, except Raani, echoed her. Tara was glad Vayu had offered to come along. He spoke little, but when he did, it made a lot of sense. He had said he was an orphan. She remembered the moment with painful clarity when she thought she had lost Suraj forever, believing she was all alone in the world. It had been one of the worst moments, ever. And here was this boy, living that moment for a lifetime.

  The slow, agonizing walk made Tara want to scream in frustration. Unable to see anything around her, she could only think; the last thing she wanted to do.