The Silver Anklet

by Mahtab Narsimhan

  “Raani, no!” said Ananth very softly. “Don’t move.”

  But Raani wasn’t listening; she didn’t even seem to be aware of anyone around her.

  The hyena tensed and inched closer to her, Kabir forgotten. Any moment now it would leap at her. Raani stared at it wild-eyed, white-faced, and took another step back. The hyena stalked her, the hair on its back bristling. She was definitely going to run … “Here,” screamed Tara suddenly. The hyena swung its head toward her. She sprinted into the forest. “Get him, Ananth! Don’t miss!”

  With a growl, the hyena leaped after her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Ananth jump for his bow and arrow. Don’t miss, don’t miss, she prayed as she zig-zagged toward the trees, the hyena galloping after her.

  The hyena’s teeth ripped the edge of her kurta, but Tara didn’t stop. The snap of its jaws was unnaturally loud. She reached the edge of the clearing. The hyena was gaining on her; its teeth grazed her ankle. She shrieked and went crashing into the trees.

  “Turn around and come back,” yelled Ananth. He sounded close by. “Make a wide curve, I’m ready.”

  Tara swerved sharply and ran around a tree. She saw the root too late and tripped, screaming as she fell, face-down on the forest floor. “Kill it!”

  The hyena landed on her back, knocking out all the air from her lungs. Its breath was loud in her ears and the smell made her retch. Her neck was wet with its saliva. Any moment now she expected to feel teeth sink into her. She screamed again and again and yet again, unable to stop.

  There was a loud thunk, a strangled yelp, and the weight from her back was gone. Tara lay on the ground, her nose pressed to the damp earth, inhaling its fragrance, unable to believe she was still alive. She took a deep, shuddering gulp of air.

  “Are you all right?” asked Raani, kneeling beside her. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”

  Tara sat up with some effort and Raani pulled her to her feet. Tara leaned on her, unable to control the trembling of her limbs. Raani put a steadying hand around her waist. She was trembling, too.

  The hyena lay on its back, its long, red tongue lolling out the side of its mouth. A green rock, the one she’d used to grind the herbs, lay by its head. An arrow pierced its neck, the bright-red tip sticking out the other side. The ground below it was starting to turn red and they moved past it hurriedly.

  “Thank you. That was really brave of you,” said Raani. She shook her head in wonder, her eyes moist. “You saved my life.”

  Tara managed a weak smile. All she wanted to do was throw up, but she took several deep breaths instead. It wouldn’t do to vomit all over a person who had just called her incredibly brave. Then they were all around her, even Kabir, who had managed to get to his feet.

  “Thanks, Ananth,” said Tara. “That was a good shot.”

  Ananth nodded. “You’d better thank Raani, too. She flung a rock at the brute to slow him down. Four arrows broke before I could get him. This is the last one.” He looked at the solitary arrow in his hand. “I wish I had my other ones. These are terrible.”

  “Thank you both,” said Tara. She smiled at Raani, who returned it warmly, a hint of awe still lingering on her face.

  “All right, Kabir?” asked Tara.

  He nodded. “I think we’re all okay.”

  “You see now why we have to get away from here as soon as possible?” said Tara. “One of those animals can be so dangerous. Can you imagine three?”

  “I’m tired of running,” said Kabir. “It’s time we started making things a bit interesting for Zarku. Let the hunter become the hunted for a change. We can do this — together.”

  He extended his fist and winked. They piled their fists one on top of the other. Tara was the last to add hers. She looked around at her companions, faces lined with grime and exhaustion and determination. A faint glow of hope warmed her heart. Maybe Kabir was right; together they just might be able to defeat Zarku.

  Grimacing, Kabir picked up a twig and traced out a rectangle on the ground.

  “Raani, Tara, Vayu, dig out the earth in this spot as fast as you can. It needs to be at least three feet deep,” he said. “Ananth, collect as many branches as you can, tall short, anything. We’ll need to sharpen them to make stakes for the pit.”

  Dusk was upon them. An occasional flutter of wings, the grunting of a wild boar or yowling of a wildcat broke the silence. It seemed as if the forest was holding its breath, too; waiting to see how this game of hide-and-seek would play out tonight.

  “How much of daylight do you think we have left?” asked Raani. She tied her dupatta securely around her waist and started digging.

  “About an hour or so,” said Kabir, squinting at the sky. Dark, grey clouds rimmed with gold floated past. “Looks like another thunderstorm tonight.”

  They dug as hard and as fast as they could. Kabir sat at the edge of the pit, sharpening branches that Ananth brought to him. Slivers of wood showered over them and the pile next to him grew. Occasionally he would close his eyes, take a deep, shuddering breath and continue. Sweat beaded his face, but he did not stop.

  “I think we have enough, Ananth,” said Kabir after a while. “You better help with the pit. I’ll finish the rest of these.”

  Ananth jumped into the pit and started digging. The heat built up as the storm gathered strength. Mosquitoes swarmed around them once again, getting into their eyes and ears, even their mouths whenever they spoke to each other. As they dug deeper, the mud grew softer, heavier, and Tara felt it cake under her fingernails. Her muscles ached, threatening to seize up.

  The sun sank lower and the forest grew darker. A hot wind swept through the trees.

  “Hurry,” said Kabir. “We still have a foot or so to go and then we have to arrange the stakes. If it’s not deep enough, this trap won’t work.”

  Tara doubled her speed and so did the others.

  Pebbles, rocks, and roots tore her nails. The wet, cloying smell of mud and mulch enveloped her. She dug, thinking of nothing else but moving her hands. Scoop, throw, scoop, throw. Slowly and steadily the pit grew deeper. Kabir moved the earth away from the sides to make room for more.

  “We’ll never finish in time,” said Kabir. “Make room for me, too.”

  “No, Kabir,” said Tara. “You stay up there. You’re in no shape for this.”

  “If the hyenas catch us, the only shape I’ll be in, is dead … don’t know though … what shape is death?” replied Kabir. Tara had to smile. In spite of everything he could still joke.

  Kabir jumped in. They stood shoulder to shoulder in the cramped space, throwing the mud out in a wild frenzy. The shadows deepened and it was getting difficult to see how much progress they had made.

  “Should we light the lanterns?” asked Vayu. “Might help.”

  Ananth shook his head. “Best not to. If Zarku has started out, it will only pinpoint our location faster. Hurry and we’ll get this done before it gets too dark to see.”

  There was a loud crack. “Arrrghhh,” Kabir groaned. “My shoulder.”

  They all stopped and stared at him. His right arm was twisted at an unnatural angle near his shoulder.

  “I’ve dislocated it,” he gasped. He reached up with his left hand and tried to push it back in, but the effort was too much. He fell to his knees groaning. “Can’t do it … on my own. Someone do it.”

  “What do I do?” asked Ananth. “Tell me!”

  “Shove it back into place,” said Kabir. “This one’s not like the usual ones or I would have done it myself.”

  “You should never have gotten in here,” said Tara. She pressed herself against the wall of the pit, wiping her face, staring at the dislocated arm. “Why didn’t you stay up there? We were doing fine without you.”

  “Just do it,” said Kabir. He braced himself as Ananth took hold of his shoulder. “Wait,” Kabir cried at the last moment.

  “What?” said Ananth. His face was as white as Kabir’s.

  “Push it straight back
in without twisting it to the right or left,” said Kabir. “If it goes in wrong, I won’t be able to move my arm at all.”

  Ananth dropped his hands to his sides. “I-I can’t do this,” he said. “What if I mess it up?”

  “You can,” said Kabir. “Hurry, the pain’s killing me.”

  Ananth took a deep breath. Tara nodded, trying to look calm and encouraging at the same time, neither of which she remotely felt. Ananth took hold of Kabir’s arm, bit his lip, and pushed hard. It settled into place with a crack. The sound of bone against bone echoed through the cramped hole and Tara shuddered. She looked over at Raani, who had stuffed her knuckles into her mouth.

  Kabir uttered a strangled yelp and crumpled to the ground.

  “Oh God, Ananth!” said Raani. “You’ve killed him.”

  Ananth got down on his knees and patted Kabir’s face. “Talk to me, Kabir. Are you all right? Please say something.”

  Kabir’s head flopped back and forth. The pain killed him, thought Tara, we’ve lost him forever. It seemed unreal. One moment he was alive and in pain and the next moment he was gone.

  “I did exactly as he told me to,” said Ananth. He raised an anguished face to them.

  “And you did a great job, Ananth,” said Kabir. He stirred, groaning softly.

  Both Tara and Raani screamed and fell to their knees.

  “You idiot, you gave us quite a scare,” said Ananth.

  “What happened?’

  “Sorry, the pain was a bit too much,” said Kabir. “I’ll try never to faint again. Promise.”

  An owl hooted loudly and flew off into the night, followed by the shrill chatter of birds.

  “Here he comes,” said Kabir. “We have to stop now and plant those stakes or we won’t be ready in time.”

  He climbed out of the pit slowly, breathing hard. They all climbed out after him.

  “Is this deep enough?” asked Tara. She stared at the pit they had just dug. “Do you think it will work?”

  “Even if it doesn’t, we have no time,” said Kabir. “We’ll just have to hope for the best.”

  Zarku advanced through the brush, making no attempt to keep silent, as if he knew he’d win, no matter what. He was probably expecting to find them hiding like scared rabbits. Except that he would get a shock. A fatal one if they were really lucky!

  “Get in there, Ananth, and plant the stakes throughout the pit evenly, with the pointed ends facing upward,” said Kabir. “Try not to leave too many gaps. I’ll hand them to you.”

  “The rest of you, get as many large branches and leaves you can find to cover this up. If Zarku suspects that it’s here, all our work will have been in vain. Run!”

  Like a group possessed they worked in the near darkness, which intensified with each passing moment. Tara raced to the trees and hauled dead branches, twigs, and leaves toward the pit in which Kabir and

  Ananth had planted the stakes as best as they could.

  Back again, another armload, drag, drop, and back again. Tara’s lungs were on fire and her arms were ready to drop off. But she went back for another load and yet another.

  Suddenly, it was night. As if God had blown out the sun.

  “I guess that’s it,” said Kabir. His voice was soft, his breathing laboured. “We’d better hide.” Not too far off they heard the steady rustle of footsteps approaching and giggling; a sound that had come to haunt Tara’s every waking and sleeping moment.

  “No time to get up a tree,” said Ananth. “Quick, Raani, help us look for a place to hide.”

  Zarku’s lamplight bobbing toward them from a distance dispelled some of the darkness as they all searched frantically. Why hadn’t they thought of choosing a place before we started digging? thought Tara. They could have avoided this last-minute panic.

  “Bushes or hollow log?” asked Raani. “I can’t decide.

  They’re both too obvious.”

  “Bushes, I think,” said Vayu. “The hyenas will probably not want to get in there.”

  They raced to a large clump of bushes and threw themselves into it. Thorns scraped and tore at Tara’s flesh, but she didn’t slow down till she had crawled right into the middle along with the others. She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed. Let him die. If Zarku escaped the pit, she had no doubt that he’d discover their hiding place within seconds.

  The light drew nearer and there he was, at the edge of the clearing. A few more steps and he would fall into their trap. He was singing tunelessly, cheerfully, certain of victory. Behind him the hyenas fanned out, sniffing at every bush and log. Tara’s heart thumped. Would their trap work? Would he walk straight into it? Nothing would give her greater pleasure than to see him with a stake through his heart. She closed her eyes to savour the image.

  The very next moment her eyes snapped open. A thought struck her hard, almost as if she had walked into a wall. If their trap worked, she would not see Zarku but Suraj with a stake through his heart. Her brother. Oh Lord what had she done? She had dug her brother’s grave with her own hands.

  “No, oh no,” she whispered.

  “Tara, what is it?” said Raani. “What’s the matter?”

  “I have to stop him,” she said. “I can’t let him die.”

  “Are you mad?” whispered Ananth. “That’s exactly what we want. That’s why we worked so hard all evening.”

  Zarku moved stealthily, his lantern held aloft. Shreds of light trickled into the bushes. He moved closer, Kali right behind him.

  “I have to warn him,” Tara repeated. “I can’t let my brother die.”

  She struggled to get up. The next moment four pairs of hands clamped down on her. She opened her mouth and Ananth clapped his hand over it. Thorns scraped her scalp, her arms, as they wrestled silently.

  She glared at Ananth, beseeching him with her eyes, but it only served to tighten his hold on her.

  If their plan worked, Suraj would die. Tears leaked out of her eyes as she realized that it was the right thing to do. This was the only way. But how could she stand by and watch it happen? She struggled to sit up, but her friends held her down.

  A horrible shriek pierced the air and all the fight went out of her.

  Suraj had fallen into their trap. He was going to die and she was responsible.

  — thirteen —

  The Fist

  “O no,” whispered Ananth and loosened his hold on her. “Oh no …”

  Tara squeezed her eyes shut as the scream reached an agonizing peak. She clapped her hands over her ears, knowing she would remember this scream for as long as she lived. It turned into a gurgle and died away. There was complete silence.

  Suraj was dead.

  Tara sobbed softly, unable even to sit up. She could see the image clearly in her mind; Suraj skewered on a stake in the pit she had dug with her own hands. How would she ever forgive herself? She had no right to live after this.

  “You’ve killed him!” someone shrieked. “You’ve killed my companion. I’ll make you all suffer for this!”

  Tara sat up immediately, happiness flooding her. She peered out of the bushes. Zarku was alive! This was bad news for them — really bad. If he found them, they were all in danger, but there was a part of her that was very relieved.

  “It failed,” said Kabir. His voice was flat. “We got the hyena instead of him. He has the luck of the devil.”

  Zarku stood at the edge of the pit flanked by two hyenas and Kali, his face contorted with rage. His eyes swept the bushes around him and then back to the pit.

  “Can’t you bring him back to life?” said Kali. She took a quick look into the pit, wrinkled her nose in disgust and looked away.

  “Are you mad, woman?” snapped Zarku with such vehemence that she took a step back. “How many times do I have to explain to you that in this weak body I have limited powers? Wait till I get another, more powerful, body and then see what I do. I’ll kill anyone who crosses me and prevent Death from coming to those who serve me well. You’ll be wise to rememb
er that.”

  “I only asked,” said Kali. Her tone was servile, her head bowed. But even from a distance Tara could see the slight curve of her lips as she smiled to herself, no doubt dreaming of the power and glory she would enjoy in Zarku’s reign.

  “Come out from wherever you’re hiding. Now!” said Zarku.

  This was it. They had killed his companion and now it was their turn. In spite of the growing fear in the pit of her stomach, Tara got a small measure of comfort from huddling together with her companions. No one moved.

  “I know you all are close by,” said Zarku. “Come out now. If I have to come look for you, you’re going to regret it. I’ll count to ten and if you’re not out by then …”

  Tara looked at Ananth. He shook his head.

  “One … two,” intoned Zarku.

  “I think we should show ourselves,” whispered Raani. “If he works himself into a frenzy, there’s no telling what he might do.”

  “Stay,” said Ananth. “He said the same thing last time. He’s just having fun scaring us.”

  “Three, four, five,” said Zarku. “You’re trying my patience!”

  “Please,” said Tara, “let’s just go and get it over with. If he lets the hyenas loose, they’ll find us anyway.”

  “He won’t bother to squeeze in here, that’s for sure,” said Vayu. “But the hyenas might. We should go.”

  Zarku paced the edge of the pit, alternately looking at the hyena and then at the forest around him. His gaze slid past the clump of bushes where they hid and returned to it. Had he guessed where they were?

  “Six, seven, eight,” yelled Zarku. “Last chance. Give up now and I might show some mercy.”

  “Nine, te#8212;#8221;

  Tara crawled out of the bushes before anyone could grab her again. She faced Zarku, trying to ignore the blood oozing from the numerous scratches on her arms and legs. “Here I am.”

  “I’m not blind,” said Zarku. “Where are the others?

  I told you, if you split up #8212;#8221;

  “You want me,” said Tara. “You’ve got me. Why do you need the others?”