by Payal Doshi
Chapter 8
Riddles! Riddles! Riddles!
“Rea? REAA!”
Rea looked left and right in a dreamy stupor.
“Look HERE!”
The voice came again, loud and warbled. It was familiar, but a million worlds away. Rea smiled blissfully and faded deeper into her reverie.
“WAKE UP!” the voice shrieked.
Rea forced her eyes open. Leela’s face bore down on her, her nails buried into Rea’s arms. Rea blinked several times. The room gradually coalesced. Leela let out a lungful of air and flopped onto her chair.
“Speak, dearie, of what ails your heart.”
Mishti Daadi’s words tickled Rea’s chin for an answer and Rea searched her mind for the questions she had come to ask, but the vision of that colorful, happy place kept pulling her back. After straining every muscle, she remembered.
“Where is Rohan?” she asked.
Mishti Daadi smacked her lips together, as if she were tasting the question on her tongue. Her eyelids blinked once, twice, three times, while Rea and Leela stared at her. Finally, she spoke.
“Where day is night,
And night is day.
He sits and crawls
Within copezium walls.”
“He’s alive! I knew it!” Rea sprang from her chair. But the answer confused her, and she returned to her seat. A root of dread inched up her spine.
“Is he all right?”
“Alive and kicking,
Rea wanted to jump up with joy. She squeezed Mishti Daadi’s hand so tightly, it almost broke their connection.
...Screaming and shouting.”
“Wait a second, why is Rohan screaming and shouting? Is he safe?” Rea asked.
Mishti Daadi stayed silent, her white pupils still. Rea shook the woman’s wrinkled palms, anxious for an answer.
“Mishti Daadi, answer the question. Is Rohan safe and unhurt?”
“Harm comes to those who fear,
when weakness and innocence are near.
He who you ask for
rebels the most.
Of strength and courage, he does boast.”
Of strength and courage, he does boast. Way to go, Rohan!
Rea looked over at Leela. There was no way they were going to remember these answers. Unless… “Psst!” she said to Leela, “Write this down.”
Leela was staring at them with her mouth agape when Rea’s words broke her out of her shock. She looked around and grabbed the notepad beside Mishti Daadi’s home telephone and found a pen lurking under its first page. With a loud rip, she tore it out. Rea inched to the edge of her seat.
“Where can I find Rohan?” asked Rea.
“Where day is night,
And night is day.
He sits and crawls
Within copezium walls.”
It was the same answer Mishti Daadi had given before. Rea and Leela looked at each other, momentarily discouraged. This wasn’t enough to go on. They needed more.
“O-kay, but how do I find him?” asked Rea.
All of a sudden, Rea felt a poke, sharp as a thorn and oily as a tentacle, against her brain.
“Ow,” she said and narrowed her eyes at Mishti Daadi, looking for a sign that she was working some kind of magic against them, but the old woman’s face was expressionless. Her trance appeared intact and then her lips moved as she answered Rea’s question.
“The answer lies in you.
Hidden within your mind, a clue.
Follow the beating heart,
In a journey to play your part.”
Rea sat, bewildered. These weren’t answers; they were riddles. Usually, she loved solving them, but these made no sense.
“What else do you see, Mishti Daadi?” she asked. At least the brain-prodding had stopped.
“I see
only what
you ask
of me.”
Arghhh.
“All right, who is this horrible, horrendous person that has taken Rohan away?” Rea asked.
Mishti Daadi gazed into nothingness, as if no question had been spoken.
Rea gritted her teeth and steadied her voice.
“Who has kidnapped Rohan?”
It was the first time she had said the word aloud. Kidnapped. She shivered. It didn’t feel good to say it and she worried she had somehow made it real by saying the word. Mishti Daadi’s eyes wandered around the room and Rea followed them, creepy as they looked, until they halted and faced her.
“Fair and tall,
Ruler of all!”
Rea wanted to punch something. She was getting close to discovering where Rohan was but Mishti Daadi’s rhymes were infuriating her. Right then, Mishti Daadi’s eyelids drooped and her head dipped to the side.
“No, no, no. Please hold on. I only have a few questions left.”
Rea stared into those milky abysses, willing them to stay open. Mishti Daadi’s grip slowly strengthened and her head returned to position. There was no time to waste. Questions about Rohan were leading nowhere.
“I’ve been having a nightmare since Rohan went missing,” said Rea. “Is it trying to tell me something? Is it a clue?”
The prodding on her brain returned, like an itch inside her mind.
“As certain as fate
The mind’s eye lives.
Slip past the sleeping lies
To where hidden truths hide.”
“What hidden truths?” she asked as slow breaths came and went from Mishti Daadi’s lips.
“S-Suns as bright bu-burning orbs glow,
Unwavering, t-they watch and kn-know.”
Mishti Daadi’s breathing grew to large heaves and she struggled to keep going. Rea slid her fingers out of her grip.
“It’s all right, Mishti Daadi. You can let go now—”
Mishti Daadi grabbed Rea’s hands.
“They gu-ide and you shall fo-follow.
I-Into a s-s-sylvan h-heart’s h-ho-llow.”
Mishti Daadi coughed violently. Her unnatural black irises vanished and their rotten-grape glaze returned. The levitating petals dropped gracefully onto Rea’s palms and Mishti Daadi sighed. She looked entirely scrunched up.
“Apologies, dearie. The augury consumes a great deal of energy. I tend to forget I’m not as young as I used to be.”
Mutely, Leela offered her Rea’s untouched glass of water and Mishti Daadi slurped it down.
“There’s no need to look so frightened. Don’t you worry, I’ve got plenty more left in me.” She wrinkled her already wrinkled face with a smile. “I hope you got the answers you were looking for.”
“Well... in a way,” said Rea. “You said Ro—wait, don’t you remember?”
Mishti Daadi shook her head. “I have no memory of the prophecies once the augury is over. It’s nature’s way of balancing knowledge. It would be unwise for someone with the ability,” she pointed to herself, “to be privy to another’s destiny. The sacred gift must not be misused.” Her curved forefinger moved like a windshield wiper.
“I suppose you want to go next.” Mishti Daadi motioned to Leela. “Although, I do require a few moments to recover...”
“Goodness no. It was Rea who wanted to do it. Just Rea.”
“Very well,” said Mishti Daadi, seeming visibly relieved. “Have some biscuits to bring the color back into those lovely cheeks.”
Leela eagerly reached for one. “Mishti Daadi, how do you know our names?”
Rea turned in surprise and Mishti Daadi grew forlorn.
“It’s a small town. When I pass through Tombu, I often see the two of you playing. Back when you were five or six years old, you were so close. Running around, chasing each other over monkey bars and slides.”
Rea was pretty sure she hadn’t known Leela when they were that young, but there was a more pressing question waiting on the tip of her tongue.
“Um... a few days ago, my Amma came to see you. What did she want to know?”
“Your Amma?”
Wrinkles crowded Mishti Daadi’s eyes.
“Tallish, hazel eyes? Kunjan Chettri?” said Rea.
“Why yes, she had on a blue dupatta.”
“YES!”
“I’m afraid I don’t discuss my patrons with anybody, dearie. As I’ve said before, I have no memory of what transpires during a divination, but I do know your Amma is a strong and wise woman. You needn’t worry about her.”
Rea gave a tight smile. The universe was clearly conspiring against giving her any answers.
“Mishti Daadi, why do you live alone?” Leela asked. “Don’t you have a family?”
The cuckoo from the cuckoo clock swung out of its tiny door, chirruping in song, and Rea almost flew out of her chair. They should have left five minutes ago! She was dangerously close to missing dinner and Amma might have stopped caring about her, but Bajai would be livid.
“It’s a long story, dearie. Maybe for another time.”
Rea breathed a sigh of relief. She thanked Mishti Daadi for the augury, and tugged Leela’s arm, trying to get her out of there before she asked the old woman more questions and made them even later. Getting the message, Leela reached into her pocket and pulled out the money. She held it out, but Mishti Daadi waved her hand away.
“I can’t take money from children. Especially since I suspect your Ammas are unaware you are here.”
Leela and Rea looked guiltily at each other and Mishti Daadi chuckled.
“Your company has been payment enough. Will you dearies come see me again?”
“We will!” said Leela.
Rea threw her a look, but Mishti Daadi’s face lit up.
“We promise,” Leela assured her and gave the old woman a hug.
“We have to leave now,” Rea said, hurrying towards the door. “Thank you for your help.”
Mishti Daadi lumbered behind them.
“The pleasure was mine, dearies. Now, ride home carefully,” she smiled widely, her yellowed teeth on full display.
The gravestone glistens. The moon hangs low. Its pockmarks follow her as she wades through the bog. A few feet from the tombstone, Rea closes her eyes. She takes slow, careful steps. She must not see the words. On her sixth step, she spins around with her back towards the plinth.
She opens her eyes.
The bog, the shrubbery, the trees are blurry. They remind her of smudged watercolors she used to paint as a child. Dotted around this picture are countless sunflower-yellow spots, flickering incessantly. She hasn’t seen them before. The spots grow. Hundreds of owls appear perched on every branch of every tree. Their dark feathers blend into the night, leaving only their glowing eyes to be seen. One stares at her.
Hoots and screeches fill the sky. The owls fly from tree to tree, branch to branch, crisscrossing each other. They swoop down low. Rea covers her eyes, fearing they’ll be pecked out, and she stumbles onto the grave. Her eyes land on the carved words.
HELP ME. OR I DIE.
She screams.
Chapter 9
Pnigalion
The waters of Senchal Lake shimmered in the afternoon light. White swans glided by. Rea sat on the water’s edge, under the shade of a dhupi tree, as tourists mounted horses for a jaunt around the lake, or stepped into shikaras for a romantic boat ride around the rose gardens. Rea had walked the three miles to the lake, hoping the fresh air would clear her mind.
It had been four days, and hope was withering fast.
“It’s time you accept your brother isn’t coming home,” Amma had said that morning as she flattened a crease on Rohan’s t-shirt and laid it on a pile of folded clothes. She looked like a sack of skin fighting to stand up.
“You must learn to live with it like Bajai and I are trying to. First your father, then your brother. What sins have I committed to deserve such sadness?” She turned to Rea as if she had the answer. “Now all I have left is you.”
As she remembered the words, Rea blinked away tears. She knew her mother didn’t mean to hurt her, but she also knew she would never be enough. Rohan’s spirit would haunt Amma’s heart forever, leaving a hole that would never be filled.
Adding to the turmoil was Rea’s nightmare. Even while awake, she could feel the mud sludge on her legs, the eeriness around her, the biting wind. She could see the shining tombstone, and those terrifying words.
This morning, she had finally confided everything about the dream to Bajai, hoping her grandmother would be able to offer her some comfort.
Bajai had listened carefully to the dream. When Rea was done, she said, “The mind is a mysterious place, Reeli. In its vast and many corners are hidden pieces of knowledge. When we sleep, they float up in the form of dreams. They can be wild, have a mind of their own, and lead us places. They can carry messages or warnings. If they recur, one must heed them.”
Bajai handed Rea a diary they kept in their telephone drawer. Its pages were yellowed and blank.
“Write down each detail,” she instructed. “And tonight, you must follow the nightmare. I fear it has not ended.”
“There’s more?” groaned Rea.
“I believe so, and you need a good night’s rest to unravel this pnigalion.”
“Nigh—what?”
But Bajai had disappeared into her room.
Sitting at the lake, Rea scribbled notes into the diary, analyzing the nightmare from every angle. Neither had she been able to ‘follow it’ nor had it screamed, ‘I’m the message or warning you’ve been looking for!’ If anything, the only message it gave her was that her puzzle-solving skills were disastrously failing her.
Frustrated, Rea picked up a rock and threw it into the lake. She watched as the ripples disturbed the calm waters. One of the nearby swans gave her a dirty look and she stuck out her tongue at the bird, but it didn’t make her feel any better.
The one thing Rea was supposed to be good at was puzzles. If there was any way to use this nonsensical trickery to find Rohan, she needed her puzzle-solving powers. But her brain refused to pick up all the loose ends. It was horrible, the feeling that if she could figure out how everything fit together, she could reach him.
Rea stared at her loopy handwriting for a solid ten minutes, trying to force her brain to see the connection. Giving up, she turned towards her school bag, and fished out the torn piece of paper with Mishti Daadi’s riddles and read the first one.
Where can I find Rohan?
‘Where day is night,
And night is day.
He sits and crawls
Within copezium walls.’
What are copezium walls? Rea thumbed through Rohan’s pocket dictionary. There was no such word. She circled it with tiny question marks and searched for ‘sylvan.’
Of, pertaining to, or inhabiting forest or forest regions.
The shorter, relatively simpler riddles of Rohan being ‘alive and kicking’ and of the kidnapper being ‘fair and tall, ruler of all,’ meant Rohan was out there and a person—she wrote, ‘powerful like a tea estate owner or a rich tourist’—might have kidnapped him. What confused her were the last two prophecies.
How do I find Rohan?
‘The answer lies in you,
Hidden within your mind, a clue.
Follow the beating heart,
In a journey to play your part.’
What hidden truths?
Suns as bright burning orbs glow,
Unwavering, they watch and know.
It guides and you shall follow,
Into a sylvan(forest) heart’s hollow.’
With a red pen, she underlined ‘hidden within your mind, a clue,’ and ‘beating heart.’ What possible clue lay in her mind that had something to do with a beating heart? Rea drummed her fingers. Rohan had a beating heart. Maybe he was the clue somehow?
Continuing, she underlined ‘orbs’ and ‘burning,’ and an image of a bright, flaming sun popped into her head. But the word ‘sun’ was already mentioned so she changed her approach and played with analogies, jotting down things which were sphe
rical and yellow or orange in color.
sunflowers
oranges
pumpkins
mangoes
turmeric
marigolds
tennis balls
Rea imagined them on fire and scratched them all out. She decided to come back to this clue later. That was one of her tricks to solving puzzles—if she hit a wall, she had to take a step back and try something else. Otherwise, she would get too discouraged and want to give up entirely.
Rea moved onto the last two lines.
‘It guides and you shall follow,
Into a sylvan heart’s hollow.’
Her hand stilled over the words, ‘heart’s hollow.’ She turned to the last line and rewrote it as ‘Forest heart’s hollow’ while adding in parenthesis ‘a hollow heart in a forest.’ A heart in the forest… Could it be Rohan’s heart? But his heart wasn’t hollow.
“Ugh,” groaned Rea. She dug her face into her knees and mouthed the prophecies aloud, hoping for something to click.
“What are you doing?”
Rea stopped her recitation and looked up. Leela was standing over her, her orange glasses sitting crooked on her nose.
“You came!” Rea exclaimed.
“Of course! I went to the principal’s office complaining of a terrible stomach ache. I told her I had momos from the street yesterday and if I was made to wait for someone to come get me, my stomach would empty itself right there in her office. She told me to run home and here I am!”
Rea grinned. Leela’s knack for sneaking out of things sure came in handy. She handed her the diary and Leela read the updated nightmare.
“Speaking of your nightmare,” her eyes shone with excitement, “I was researching at the library today and came across this phenomenon called ‘sweven.’ It’s an Old English word for a dream or vision one gets in their sleep. Rea, it’s a real thing! Bajai and Mishti Daadi are right. I had my doubts at first, but these things actually exist. There have been recorded accounts of people, mostly women, who have suffered through traumatic events, getting visions which are messages in the form of coded secrets.”
