by Payal Doshi
Rea sat up, and looked at her hands. Her fingertips tingled.
Your nectar has been fully awoken, fearless one.
She smiled, hearing the deep, gentle voice.
It has?
Your act of true selflessness has brought your full power to life. You served the injured without a thought for your quest or well-being. Combined with your bravery and determination, your compassion for others has awoken all three tenets of the blood of the nectar.
Rea was elated. Maybe her powers would finally work to find the petal!
But how do I wield it, Thubian? I’ve tried every way I can think of.
Your nectar had not been fully awoken then. Use your instinct. It will guide you. Bear heed. The nectar is a gift, and it can be tainted. Use it unwisely and the road turns shadowy.
I won’t let you down, Rea said.
I am proud of you. Your heart is brave for one so young. But also, fragile. Protect it well. I might not always be of help. I can only be of assistance when you find yourself in a magical predicament. The same way I can avail of your help when I’m bound in a human predicament.
So, you can’t help me when I’m stuck in a non-magical problem?
Alas, the magic of Astranthia is rooted in fairness, justice, and goodness. It wouldn’t be fair, just, or good to use magic against an entity that has none and gain an unfair advantage. The trails of taint are slippery. Hurry on now. Time eclipses over your quest.
Rea stood up and a wave of wooziness hit her, and she sat back down. She stood up again slowly, and walked to the window. She parted the curtains. Night cloaked the sky. How long had she slept? She went to the door and down a set of spiral stairs.
Xeranther, his mother, Flula, and Leela were sitting around a leaf-shaped kitchen table. Rea’s heart soared with happiness.
“Hey,” she said, standing shyly at the edge of the doorway. Snores erupted from another room.
“You saved my XeeXee,” Xeranther’s mother ran towards her and grabbed her in an unwieldy hug. Her radish mane caught a ray of moonshine, turning a shimmery red. By the time, she released Rea from her grip, Berber appeared with bowls of steaming stew. For Flula, who was perched on the table, he placed a thimble of slivered berries dusted in sugar. Hunger struck Rea. The stew reminded her of Bajai’s spicy noodle soup and she felt a stab of betrayal.
“I’m forever in your debt,” said Xeranther, barely making eye contact.
“You’re not,” said Rea. “You would’ve done the same for me.”
His wound had healed. Only a crusted line remained. Leela fidgeted with her fingers and stared at her food. She seemed more uncomfortable than either of them.
“These are unsafe times,” said Xeranther’s mother, reaching towards the potted plant in the corner. Rea watched as she touched each eyelid to one of the leaves, exactly as Amma did. A tear slipped down her cheek as she laid her hand on Xeranther’s cut. “The Queen has reminded us of her true nature again. Lassie, we are blessed by your presence.”
“S-same here,” said Rea, slightly embarrassed.
“Mar, what do you know about the nectral powers of the royal family? Do you know how they wield it?” Xeranther asked.
Rea tried to catch Xeranther’s eye, but he wouldn’t let her.
“I don’t know much about all the powers of the blood of the nectar, but I’ve always envied their ability to speak Vossolalia, the language of flowers. Through it, they can talk to flora and seek knowledge from them. It’s how their bloodline grew to become the royal Astranthian family. Scores of centuries ago, the rulers, then of common blood, sought folk with nectral blood to use their gift to learn secrets about their enemies. Soon, those gifted with the nectar grew tired of the oppression and overthrew the empire, reclaiming it for their own. Ever since, their bloodline sits on the throne. Mostly, they’ve been fair and just rulers. Sadly, all good things come to an end,” she said wistfully. “The bearers of nectar are the few selected ones whose duty it is to act as guardians to the great natural realms. They say if their blood is dropped on a seed, it can grow without soil or water. That is as much as I know. I’ve haven’t been in the presence of royalty to know how they wield their nectar. Until tonight, that is.”
“Thank you. This is very helpful,” said Rea. “But I should be going. I don’t think I have long to find the sacred petal.”
“The ceremony is tomorrow night,” said Flula, her face pinched with worry.
“We’ve got less than a day,” added Leela.
Rea’s heart dropped to her toes. A painful grunt came from the back room and Berber rushed out of the kitchen to help Poppy.
“I’m afraid he’s having a rough night.” Xeranther’s mother gestured to her leg to indicate his pain. “Xee, your Par wouldn’t want you to risk your life for him. If a-anything happens to y-you...”
Xeranther’s face clouded and he turned away.
“But I know you won’t listen when your mind is made up. You were always as strong-willed as he was. For better or worse,” she smiled feebly. “Promise me you will stay together. There is courage in numbers and the courage of children is some of the strongest I’ve known.” She gave them each a kiss on their cheeks and exchanged a knowing nod with Flula. Turning to Rea, she curtsied. “Good luck, your Greatness.”
“Oh no, please don’t call me that.” Rea reddened with embarrassment. “I can’t thank you enough for taking care of me... and for allowing Xeranther to come with us.”
Xeranther’s mother caressed her cheek and hurried towards Poppy’s room.
The three of them stepped outside the bud with Flula flying beside them. Dawn peeked over the horizon.
“Leela told us everything,” Xeranther said. “The sacred flower cannot afford to lose another petal. It has lost two already. To think it has lost three? It could lead to the end of the realm and our lives. If the petal can be found and reattached, we must do whatever it takes.”
“Can we... um... talk first?” Rea said to him. The elephant in the room felt like a fire-breathing dragon.
“I’m sorry about how I acted before. I didn’t mean to be selfish.” She touched his hand and he made a move to shrug his arm away. She tried not to feel hurt.
“It’s still just me, Xee. Earth, Darjeeling, that’s my home. I have no connection to this place except that my brother is imprisoned here, and it’s because of the royal blood in us. The same blood which runs in my Amma and Bajai, who have betrayed me, too. After everything you’ve done for me, I shouldn’t have been so rude. I don’t care if I’m a princess. I just want to free Rohan and... have everyone stop lying to me.” Her breath snagged on the last sentence. Although she had uttered it to regain Xeranther’s confidence, she found herself passionately feeling its depth. Those words were her truth.
Mumbling something, Xeranther kicked a pebble, sending it rolling into the bushes.
“What was that?” said Rea.
“I said, I’m sorry.” He kicked another pebble.
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
“Knowing you’re a princess, I don’t know, it made me feel weird. Even though you’re nothing like the Queen, it stung to know you’re related to someone who hurt my family. ”
“I’m so sorry, Xee. If I could change the truth, I would...”
“I thought we were alike, from the same background.” He glanced at her and looked away. “It’s stupid, I know.”
Rea bent and flung a handful of mud on him. Stunned, he glared at her and then flung fistfuls of soil back at her and they both burst out laughing.
“Do you think a real princess would have nails as dirty as these?” she said, sticking out her hands.
Xeranther grinned, showing her his equally filthy nails.
“Enough silliness,” admonished Flula. “If what you say is true, we need to find the petal. The fate of the pari-folk rests on it too.”
Rea nodded and handed Xeranther a peony-like flower. Leela did the same.
“To friendsh
ip across worlds.”
Chapter 24
The Land on the Other Side
The weight of Rea’s guilt lifted as the sun rose in the sky. Her hand began to tingle. They were still standing in Xeranther’s vegetable-patch of a garden. A light wind blew, and the grass swayed. She sensed the spark of current flowing in it.
“So... Guess what? My nectar has awoken,” said Rea, her eyes alive with excitement.
Everyone did a double take.
“It has?” Flula’s eyes grew to the size of pumpkin seeds.
Rea nodded. “Thubian said it’s because I helped the villagers.”
“H-He did?” Xeranther fanboyed hearing the Ceffyldwer’s name.
“He said there are different stages of nectral power. Before, I could only do little things because it hadn’t fully awoken yet. But after the act of selflessness, it has fully come alive.”
“What’re you waiting for? Show us!” exclaimed Leela.
“I haven’t used it yet, but I think I know what to do.”
Flowers dipped in shades of indigo and marigold swayed in the morning breeze. Rea caressed one, its petals soft under her skin. She closed her eyes and felt as if she was back with the tea shrubs in Darjeeling. Being among them had always brought her a sense of calm. As Rea breathed in the Astranthian plant with its scented leaves and velvety blossoms, the din of noises cleared. She could feel the spark of nectar flowing through the plant and she held onto it. But it sputtered, and then it was gone.
Rea took a deep breath. She concentrated on the inhalation and exhalation of air until the last smidgen of oxygen was consumed by her lungs. Slowly, the chaos in her mind ceased and the world turned mute. She felt warm and clear. Peace wafted upon a breeze and one by one, dots of worry drifted away from her and faded into the light. She felt empty. Whole. Like a circle.
In an instant, she fell.
Far into a void.
Until a heart other than her own thumped in her chest and she could feel the life of the plant pulsing through her veins. Their souls merged, the moment of conjunction electric.
Where does the missing petal of the sacred Som lie? she asked the plant.
Current burst through her body and an image of a tree flashed behind her eyes.
Rea opened one eye. Everything was the same. Nothing testified to the fact that an image had been sent to her by a plant. To anyone watching, she was a girl holding a flower in the early hours of the morning.
How do I get there?
Below her fingertips came vibrations. Rea held her calm, focusing on the deep soundlessness within her when the flower beamed image after image.
Petals of liquid lavender. An ancient stone structure. A babbling river.
Rea couldn’t hear anything. She could only see. After a series of images, the communication stopped.
“It worked!” she cried. “The plant shot images into my mind!”
Hurriedly, she asked another question, one that she couldn’t resist. It took her a few tries, but the slip into tranquility was easier.
“Why did Amma visit Mishti Daadi?”
The plant remained silent. There came no vibration or rumblings of messages. Maybe Astranthian flowers didn’t know of the happenings on Earth... For now, her questions about Amma would have to wait.
“How did it work?” asked Leela, her eyes dancing with excitement.
“Like a camera snapping photos. Click, click, click!”
Xeranther and Flula looked puzzled but their elation trumped their confusion.
“What did the flower say?” he asked.
“It showed me images of a willow with a LOT of lavender flowers. It’s by a river and an old arch-like thing,” Rea breathlessly said.
“I know of one by River’s Arc,” said Flula. “Larkspur, my water sprite friend, told me yesterday the willow there is soon to shed its blossoms.”
“Excellent. Lead the way!”
Whistles of wind blew as Rea, Leela, and Xeranther followed Flula through a vibrant forest. Around them, the trees and plants had tripled in size, cramming over each other in their quest for sunlight. Their sharp, tapering leaves arched overhead, bending under the weight of chunky dewdrops. The willow, Flula said, was to appear along the Wildwater River but so far, the ground was bereft of even a puddle.
Rea retreated into the shadow of her thoughts. With every blink, she saw the bodies, heard the wails and felt the manic stare in Rohan’s eyes. Paries within rainbow-tinted bubbles flew past them and she remembered how she and Rohan used to blow soap bubbles from rubber rings and chase after them.
“There,” Flula pointed and raced towards a narrow brook making its way across the forest floor. “I see water sprites and the Wildwater.”
“It gets bigger,” Xeranther said, noticing Rea’s doubtful look at the trickling waters.
Breaking into a run, they followed the fledgling river to a dilapidated arch consumed by creepers and tendrilled plants. It was the same stone structure the flower had beamed into Rea’s mind. Behind it was an old willow.
Rea’s hands tingled. The tree’s branches drooped low with flowers made of lavender-tinted water. At the end of each branch, the liquid blossoms faded to white. A whiff of wind unclasped a watery bloom and it fell to the ground. Instantly, it dried into a withered flower. Rea ran towards the dusting of white blossoms and placed her hand on the wizened tree trunk.
Where is the missing petal of the sacred Som?
The hum of the willow buzzed under her touch. Unlike the other flora, it spoke directly into her mind. The willow’s words were ancient, weary and firm.
It is not for you to know. Humans are unworthy of this knowledge. With greed and violence, you have given up your right to the petal. I will say no more.
Rea’s spirit splintered to pieces.
Why was I led to you if you won’t tell me about the petal? she challenged the willow. The beating of her heart slackened to slow, heavy thuds.
Guardian of the nectar, offspring of the Som, I have borne life through my roots since the stars sprayed light over the advent of night. I have seen many a war and many a halcyon day. My sister and I have our reasons for our silence. The sacred petal departed its dwelling to remain missing. It wants not to be found and no tree nor leaf shall tell you where it lies.
“NO, NO, NO! I will NOT accept it,” Rea cried, slapping the tree. She slid to the ground, sobbing like a child, not caring if anyone heard.
After the horror she had witnessed, how could she fail now? What use was talking to plants when they had nothing to say to her? With no petal, what did she have to trade Rohan’s freedom with? Rea wiped her snotty palms across her cheeks. Think, think, think, she ordered herself. Someone else has to know where this stupid petal is.
Suddenly, she grabbed the willow.
O-Ole... Oleandra! Tell me where Oleandra lives.
Within seconds, the willow beamed a route into her mind. Oleandra was close—a few miles ahead. Taking a moment to match the route in her mind to the one in front of her, Rea darted ahead. The others followed her as she turned left and right and jumped across the river, which was steadily growing larger. She ran at full speed until a blast of sunlight blinded her and she teetered to a halt. She had reached the edge of a cliff.
“This cannot be.” Xeranther stared agape at the sight ahead. He wiped his face, his sleeves smeared in mud-splattered sweat.
The roots of the trees lining the cliff had grown across the chasm, forming a bridge to the other side. It oscillated in the wind. At its end stood a hut high on stilts.
“That’s Oleandra’s house,” Rea said, avoiding a look at the Wildwater frothing and churning at least five hundred feet below.
“Whose house?” asked Xeranther. He exchanged a look with Leela. “I thought we were looking for the petal.”
“The petal does not want to be found, but Oleandra knows where it is. She’s the face I saw talking to the Queen.”
“The flower-fire-face-thing?” said Leela.
Rea nodded and holding onto her locket, took a wobbly first step onto the bridge. Nausea overcame her, and she grabbed the leathery railing. Flula charged forth. The fierce wind struck her and she squealed a tinny scream and flew straight into Xeranther’s pocket.
“This is not good, this is not good,” swore Xeranther, coming up behind her.
As they inched forward, the wind slapped them from every angle. Sprays of water wet their arms, faces, and clothes. Ever so slowly, they kept moving. After what seemed like a lifetime, Rea leaped off the bridge onto the other side. Leela followed, her pinched lips white. Xeranther whistled as he jumped to safety and Flula shot out of his pocket, pink and cold with joy.
“I’ve never been this far before. It’s a foliage-reporter’s dream!” she said, peppering the air with wet, golden flecks.
But there was no time to celebrate. They speedily made their way to the stilt-house and climbed up the ladder. A wreath of flowers hung on the door. Beside it, a painting of a blue full moon and a hibiscus shimmered in the damp sunlight. Rea sent a plea to all the gods of Earth and Astranthia to change Oleandra’s mind about revealing the location of the petal and knocked on the bamboo door. Dollops of rainwater fell from the thatched roof.
The door opened, and Xeranther gasped aloud. A face of flaming petals floated in the air in front of them.
“Greetings,” the face said.
Leela’s knees buckled and Flula flew into Xeranther’s pocket. But Rea’s heart soared. She had found Oleandra.
“A Princess, an Earthling, a bud-dweller and a Pillywiggin pari. What a treat! Do come in.”
The scent of petrichor, wet leather, and old paper greeted them. The room was bare of chairs or stools and the light flickering from the petal-face fell over piles of severely tattered books. The covers had grown moldy with the tropical weather, peeling like boiled potato skin. Wild and strangely beautiful blossoms littered the space and an assortment of perfumed weeds sprouted unabashedly from nooks and crannies along the walls and floor. From within the shadows came a flapping of wings, but none of them could see what made the sound. Rea, Leela and Xeranther found room in the little available space and sat cross-legged on the bamboo floor.
