Shadowland

by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni

  With that thought he realized why he had been feeling so uneasy. Nisha was missing, and so was the conch. He searched frantically in his pockets but could not locate it. His breath came in gasps and he felt dizzy. Somewhere in the abyss of time—as once before—he had lost them both, his beloved conch and his best friend. But no, she was more to him than that, though his panicked mind couldn’t find the right words.

  The conch is too powerful to get lost! he reminded himself. And it’ll protect Nisha. Still, his voice shook as he spoke the password.

  He waited for the peaks to split open with a great rumbling sound, for a shining gateway of crystal to appear in the opening, for the healer who guarded the gate to welcome him. But nothing happened.

  Had the conch been unable to heal the valley? Cold fingers of guilt squeezed his lungs.

  Conch, he cried, I’ve failed you and my brothers.

  He received no answer, but the faintest of smells wafted through the frozen landscape. Was he imagining it, or was it the fragrance of silver parijat flowers?

  “I have to get inside and find out,” he said in a determined voice. He closed his eyes and focused on the place where the gate should have appeared, using everything he knew of Transformation. It was difficult. His body ached from its journey through the abyss, and his mind was still confused. He took a deep breath and visualized the conch, perfect-fitted in the hollow of his hand. A blinding headache mushroomed inside his skull. But in spite of it, very slowly, he felt a shift in the atoms that made up the rocks in front of him.

  Opening his eyes he saw that a crack, just enough for a person to slip through, had opened up in the mountain. And in it stood the affronted gatekeeper.

  “I’ve never seen such impudence!” he cried. “First, you don’t return at the time Master Abhaydatta specified, so that your password becomes invalid. Next, instead of waiting penitently at the gate, as you would have if you had an iota of intelligence, you try to push your way in, breaking the guardian spells. Now I’ll have to call the Master of Protections to come and fix them—as though he didn’t have enough to do already! I have a good mind to leave you out in the cold for another sixteen hours, which is how late you are. But instead I’m going to take you to the Chief Healer, and let him decide how you should be punished.”

  “Wait,” Anand said, “did you say sixteen hours?”

  The gatekeeper looked at him with irritation, but Anand must have seemed particularly perplexed, so he said, in a slightly kinder tone, “Yes. You were supposed to get back from the hermit’s cave yesterday by sunset—don’t you remember? You threw the entire Brotherhood in a flurry when you hadn’t returned by midnight. Master Somdatta was afraid you’d met with some kind of accident. He was ready to send out a search party. Poor Master Abhaydatta spent all night in the Hall of Seeing, trying to find out what had happened to you. Finally he announced that it was just your stubbornness that made you stay up there longer. As you can imagine, he isn’t too happy with you, either.”

  “Where’s the conch?”

  “In the Crystal Hall, of course. Where else would it be? Did you fall and hit your head on the way down? You’re asking such asinine questions.”

  As Anand dragged his exhausted body through the gap into the valley, he tried to sort things out. The conch had brought him back to the exact time when he had reached the valley and found it devastated. It had restored everything to normal, and done it so perfectly that the Brotherhood had no inkling of what had happened. Around Anand the parijat trees bloomed, as delicately beautiful as ever. The orchards were laden with ripe fruit. Cows mooed contentedly from their pastures, and in the distance a group of apprentices followed their teacher—from his enormous girth Anand guessed him to be Vayudatta—to the tower where they would learn to decipher messages from the winds, as Anand had once done.

  Anand’s heart expanded with happiness and pride. He had done it! He had fought his way into Shadowland, battled amazing odds, and brought back the stolen conch, the greatest treasure of the valley. He had saved the Brotherhood.

  “You’re looking pretty cheerful for someone who’s about to get his head chewed off,” the gatekeeper commented dryly as he knocked on the door to the Chief Healer’s hut. “Wait outside. I’ll check whether Master Somdatta has the time to see you now.”

  Anand waited in a whirl of anticipation. How grateful the Chief Healer would be when he realized what Anand had done! Perhaps he would announce it in the assembly. Perhaps he would give Anand a special award for heroism. Anand could see himself standing in the middle of the Crystal Hall with its delicate, fluted pillars. Master Somdatta would give a brief message—he was a man of few words—thanking and praising him. In obedience to the rules of the Brotherhood, he wouldn’t mention the details of Anand’s mission, but Anand did not mind that. Great doings often had to be kept secret. He visualized Master Abhaydatta, his face bright with pride at his apprentice’s accomplishment, fastening a golden medallion around his neck. Anand would bow modestly. The assembly would erupt in applause. And right in the front row would be Nisha, clapping the loudest, her eyes bright with admiration. Later, she would throw her arms around his neck and—

  His reverie was interrupted by the gatekeeper. “The healers are in a meeting. Master Somdatta will see you at night. Meanwhile, he sends you this.” Almost apologetically, he handed Anand a piece of parchment.

  Anand was a trifle disappointed, but he unrolled the parchment with a smile. In a moment the smile faded. On the parchment was written: In light of his disobedience, the healers have decreed that, starting now, Anand must clean the cow byre for an entire week.

  Anand couldn’t believe his eyes. Instead of the praise that was his due, he had been given a punishment—a severe one. Of all the chores in the valley, cleaning out the byre was the most unpleasant. Hot outrage pricked his armpits. Even if they did not know what had really happened, they should have given him a chance to explain. Why hadn’t Abhaydatta—his own Master, who should have protected him—spoken up on his behalf, insisting that they hear his side of the story? That hurt more than anything else.

  He crumpled up the parchment, shot the gatekeeper a burning look, and stormed down the path. He wished he could talk to Nisha. She would have understood the full weight of the unfairness to which he’d been subjected. She would have sympathized. But she was in the gorge of herbs. The only one with whom he could share his anger was the conch.

  18

  A FINAL LESSON

  Anand was afraid the Crystal Hall would be full of people who would ask him where he had been for the last four days. He was in no mood to dodge persistent questions—for even in the Silver Valley, people could be very inquisitive. Though he was angry with Abhaydatta, he did not wish to disobey his request that the journey to the hermit’s cave be kept secret. Nor did he want, in his agitation, to let slip something about that other, even more secret, journey to Kol.

  There were people in the Crystal Hall, as always, but fortunately they were meditating and no one noticed Anand. He strode up to the lotus-shaped shrine where the conch shone, serene in its splendor. A part of his heart flared with joy to see it back in its home, but another part was still angry.

  Do you know what your precious Masters have done? he asked the conch silently, though what he really wanted was to shout the words until they ricocheted from the walls.

  Sit down and take a deep breath, the conch said. You look like you’re about to have an apoplexy. And that’s not going to help the cows.

  You know? You know that they’re making me clean out the byre—as though I were a callow first-year apprentice who had run off on a prank? Aren’t you going to do anything about this injustice?

  And what makes it so unjust? the conch asked innocently.

  Anand glared at the conch. I risked my life to help them. I called up the mirror and crossed the abyss. I rescued you. I helped the people of Kol. I—

  That’s a lot of Is, the conch remarked.

  Well, Anand con
ceded ungraciously, Nisha helped—and so did you and the mirror. But that’s not the point.

  What is the point, then? The conch’s voice was quiet. But it was a dangerous quiet, and for the first time, Anand hesitated to speak.

  You want the Masters to know what you did for them, is that it? the conch asked. You want me to remind them of how the valley exploded when I was pulled out of it? You want them to suffer again the trauma of being scattered into the abyss—the memory of which I erased from their minds when I brought them back? You want them to be grateful to you—the great Anand—forever, even though it will leave them scarred? As he spoke, the conch glowed like a ball of iron left in a fire. Even through the crystal walls of the shrine, Anand could feel the scorching heat radiating from it. He heard, for a moment, the shrieking of a terrible wind, followed by the cries of a thousand hapless souls sucked into it. He felt their agony on his skin, in his teeth, deep in the marrow of his bones.

  No. His voice came out in a croak as he sank to the ground. His face burned with shame. How arrogant he had been. How selfish in his blindness. I don’t want them to experience that again. I’d rather they never found out. Not even Abhaydatta—especially not him. I don’t care if I’m never thanked. I’d much rather clean the byre—for a month, if necessary. And anyway, it wasn’t I who restored the valley—I could never have tackled something so huge, I see that now. It was you.

  The heat was replaced by velvet warmth. We did it together, the conch said. It spoke no further, but Anand felt forgiven.

  After a while, he dared to ask, The force from the future—was it really stronger than you?

  I’ve defeated worse things in my time, the conch replied. Remember Surabhanu? Remember the jinn?

  Then why did you let it pull you from the valley, Anand said in agitation, when you could have prevented all this pain?

  Sometimes pain is necessary for a greater good, the conch said. If we hadn’t gone into Kol, what would have happened there?

  The people of Kol would have destroyed each other. Or they would have ultimately run out of energy sources and perished. Now they’re trying to work together to improve their environment—

  Exactly. You, too, learned some things in the course of your journey, though you might not realize their importance yet. And we, the Company of the Conch, had a great adventure. Wasn’t that what you had wanted on that day when Abhaydatta called you to the Hall of Seeing? Now you’d better get yourself to the byre before the Animal Master comes looking for you.

  As Anand hurried to the byre, something nagged at him. The conch had said, We, the Company of the Conch, had a great adventure. The company—that was the four of them: Nisha, the conch, himself, and Abhaydatta. But how could it be an adventure for Abhaydatta—and perhaps Nisha, too—if they didn’t remember any of it?

  * * *

  At the byre, empty because the cattle were out grazing, a resigned Anand armed himself with a bucket of water, a shovel, and a scrubbing brush and entered the first stall. He grabbed the shovel in a determined grip, hitched up his robes, and started shoveling manure. But before he had finished even one stall, he heard someone calling his name.

  Wiping sweat from his forehead, he stepped outside to find Raj-bhanu, the junior healer who had brought him the message from Abhaydatta—was it only a few days ago? Anand stared at him. Had Raj-bhanu been pulled into Shadowland? Was he the young truck driver who had helped Anand and Nisha escape from Vijay? Anand would never know.

  Raj-bhanu greeted him affably, just as he would on any other day. A little distance behind him was a boy of about ten years whom Anand had not seen before. He was thin and buck-toothed and hung back shyly, his stiff new robes proclaiming that he had recently arrived in the valley.

  Anand was embarrassed at the state of his own reeking, spattered clothing, but Raj-bhanu smiled as though he had noticed nothing amiss and handed him another parchment. “From the Chief Healer,” he said.

  Anand wiped his hands hastily and unrolled it with some trepidation. The healers had strange and unknown sources of information. Had Master Somdatta found out that he had complained to the conch? Had he increased the duration of his sentence?

  To his surprise, the parchment read, Instead of cleaning the byre, you are to spend the next week showing the new apprentice around the valley.

  Anand’s face must have mirrored his confusion, for Raj-bhanu said, “The Masters’ ways are mysterious. They must have decided that you’ve already learned what they needed to teach you through this task.”

  “Who’s the boy?” Anand whispered. “How did he get here?”

  “No one knows! The gatekeeper found him in the snow outside the secret gate. He examined the boy’s palms and forehead and determined that he had the marks of a potential healer. He took him to see the Masters, who decided to accept him as one of the Brotherhood. Could you keep him with you until he is apprenticed to a Master and assigned to his own sleeping hall?”

  Anand nodded enthusiastically. He remembered his first days in the valley when an older apprentice had taken him under his wing, answering his myriad questions. He had helped the overwhelmed Anand feel at home. It would be good to be able do that for another newcomer. Besides, it was infinitely better than having to clean out manure!

  “Come along!” he said to the boy. “I’m going to take you to the noon meal. But first I’ll have to change my robes, which aren’t exactly smelling of parijat flowers.”

  The boy smiled timidly at the joke but was too shy to say anything.

  On the way to the dining hall, Anand pointed out some of his favorite things.

  “Here’s the Hall of Seeing, made entirely of trees and vines. Those orchards have the sweetest mangoes, and when it’s your turn to pick them, you’re allowed to eat as many as you want. Here’s the yak enclosure. Watch out for those yaks, though. They’ll come up to you, docilelike, and then spit right in your face. To the left is the Wind Tower, which is really a tree—a tree with intelligence, can you believe that? And this is the most important place, the Crystal Hall. Don’t you love the carved pillars? Inside it is a shrine where the conch is kept. Have you seen the conch yet—uh—what’s your name?”

  A look of bewilderment came into the boy’s eyes. He pulled nervously at his ear and seemed on the brink of tears. “I don’t know,” he said. “I can’t remember anything from before I got here.”

  He seemed so distressed that sympathy welled up in Anand’s chest. Somehow the boy must have become separated from his own people. A trauma like that could make anyone lose his memory.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said, putting an arm around the younger boy. “Don’t worry. You’re safe now. We’ll take good care of you, and when you get formally accepted into the Brotherhood, the Masters will give you a new name that will fit you even better than your old one.”

  * * *

  Entering the noisy dining hall, Anand looked around for Nisha. His heart beat unaccountably fast as he saw her sitting at a table across the hall, her hair helter-skelter around her face, her shawl awry as usual. She waved at him to join her. He gestured for her to save an additional space, pointing to the nameless boy. When they joined her, she stared at the boy with a small frown. Anand wondered why. But what he most wanted to know was whether Nisha remembered their journey to Kol. How could he ask, though, when they were surrounded by so many people, including this boy with his deep-set, solemn eyes that observed everything?

  “There’s so much I have to tell you!” Nisha was saying. “The gorge of herbs is absolutely beautiful. I was longing to stay another night, but I knew Mother Amita would have a fit if I didn’t return on time. I loved all the birds there, but the parrots were most friendly. I’d taken some nuts, and they sat on my shoulder and ate them from my hand. A large green-breasted one even followed me halfway up! But how was your journey? And who’s the boy with you?”

  It took Anand all his willpower to answer Nisha’s questions and introduce the new boy. She had forgotten! The conc
h had taken the memory of Kol from her. He didn’t doubt the wisdom of the conch’s act, but his chest felt hollow and dark. Now he had no one with whom to discuss his adventures in Shadowland. Worst of all, he would never be able to tell Nisha how much her smile had helped him in the midst of the many dangers he had had to face. Loneliness spread through him like fog.

  The boy was looking around the hall with great interest. Nisha took this opportunity to whisper to Anand, “There’s something about him. Does he look familiar to you?”

  Anand stole a look, but he could not tell. His heart was still heavy. To distract himself, he asked the boy, “Do you like the food?”

  The boy nodded. “I’ve never eaten anything like it!”

  Anand smiled. He remembered when he’d first come to the valley, a poor boy from the slums of Kolkata, and felt the same way.

  The boy raised his glass of milk and drained it in a single gulp. Something about the gesture tugged at Anand’s mind, but before he could figure out what it was, a bell rang.

  “The Masters—the ones sitting on the dais—are about to make an announcement,” he whispered to the boy.

  The hall was silent now, every face turned expectantly toward the Chief Healer, who had risen to his feet.

  “We have something to celebrate,” Somdatta said. He spoke with his usual softness, but his words penetrated the farthest corners of the hall. “Thanks to two of our own who shall remain unnamed, we have been saved from a great disaster. We will not speak further of this dark event, for it is best not to give such things power through attention. But this much we can say: In honor of the brave young people, the Masters themselves have prepared the desserts today.”

  Excited chatter erupted through the room as the Chief Healer sat down; everyone was trying to guess the identity of the heroes. Anand felt his cheeks burn. The Masters knew. Somehow the conch had found a way to inform them without making them suffer. He glanced at Nisha, hoping Somdatta’s speech had jogged her memory, but she was explaining to the newcomer that the Masters, who rarely cooked, made the best sweets. “Wait till you taste them,” she concluded. “I’ll bet you really haven’t eaten anything like that! I’ve only had the good luck to try them once, and my tongue still dreams about it.”