We Shall Be Monsters, page 24
Tav kept his talwar at his side, watching the nagas draw closer. They eyed him just as warily, the moment stretching uncomfortably until they let their astras disappear. Both of them pressed their hands together at their chests and bowed.
“Greetings, Holy Deva,” they intoned as one.
The barrel of Vritika’s crossbow lowered in shock. “Deva?” she repeated.
Tav’s face went utterly blank. Kajal wondered when he’d last been addressed like this. Eventually, he sheathed his sword and gently touched their heads, a silent order to rise. Kajal was certain they were both taller than Tav, but they sat lower on their tails in deference. Jassi nodded to Vritika, who lowered her crossbow all the way but kept a finger on the trigger.
“Thank you for your help,” Tav said. “I’m…not sure what happened.”
“Halahala spreads quickly when it is fed,” said the nagi in her sibilant voice. She glanced at Kajal, eyes gleaming.
“Halahala?” Tav repeated.
The naga inclined his head. “An ancient poison of the earth. The result of two opposing forces that meet in hatred.”
Metal strikes with fearsome sound. The venom swells below their feet, the nagi had recited at the lake.
“How can we stop it?” Tav asked.
The naga shook his head. “Such a task can only be accomplished by the asura and deva. As for how, we cannot say.”
Jassi took a few steps forward, faltering slightly when the naga turned to appraise her. “W-We are looking for the remains of the asura. To— To bring him back.”
“There is somewhere nearby where you may find answers,” the nagi said.
“Where?” Tav asked.
“A forest to the northeast. You will know it by its gnarled trees. Stop at the border, for those who dwell within will not let you pass without consent.”
“Who dwells there?”
The nagi glanced again at Kajal. “The dakinis.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kajal threw up once the nagas left. Jassi fretted over her while Tav rubbed her back, but Kajal swiped angrily at them, allowing only Kutaa near. She expected some sort of venomous remark from Vritika, but the girl had been shocked into silence.
That is, until Jassi rounded on her. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Vritika straightened. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. More so than Dalbir.”
“Hey.” Dalbir rubbed their nose. “I mean, you’re right, but hey.”
“I know you are, but this…” Jassi sighed helplessly. “This is something big, Vritika. I don’t want you caught up in it.”
“I already am.” The girl glared at Kajal, finger lovingly curled around the crossbow’s trigger.
“Let me guess,” Kajal rasped, wiping her mouth with the back of her wrist. “You want to avenge Riddhi and prove your worth to your family. Well, no need. I’m going to get rid of the bhuta myself.”
“How can you possibly—?”
“Can we maybe not do this next to a bunch of corpses?” Dalbir said. “Vritika, if you promise to not stick Kajal full of bolts, you can at least ride with us to this forest. Uh, if that’s all right with you, Professor.”
Jassi wavered, but at the stark pleading on Vritika’s face, she finally caved. “I don’t want you traveling alone. It’s best if you come with us for now.”
If Kajal had been miserable before, she was downright wretched as they continued north. A long argument ensued between Jassi and Vritika, the latter trying to piece together what their mission was and the former unwilling to divulge it.
“I’ve already guessed you’re dissenters,” Vritika said. “You wouldn’t be traveling with a Sodhi otherwise. I won’t relate any of this to my family, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Are you sure you want to be involved?” Dalbir asked. “I mean, we saw nagas. And that—that thing, the blight. It’s like a creature all its own.” Yet Dalbir was smiling, holding their journal to their chest. “And now we’re heading into a commune of dakinis.”
“You should be more concerned about her.” Vritika nodded toward Kajal. “Get on her bad side like Riddhi did, and she won’t spare you. I’m surprised she hasn’t unleashed the bhuta yet.”
“I don’t need the bhuta for you.” Kajal knew a taunt when she heard one, but she couldn’t help herself; the magma was rising, dribbling over the volcano’s rim. “Because I’ll leave your viscera to stink in the sun if you say another word.”
Tav inhaled sharply while Dalbir muttered a quiet “Damn.” Vritika drew herself up and reached for her incense burner, but Jassi nudged her horse between them, shaking her head in warning at Kajal.
Just get through this, Kajal thought, the forest looming in the distance. It was as if her own veins had turned black, filled with whatever decaying sludge made up halahala.
She held the pouch containing Lasya’s pinkie finger tight in one hand. Kajal’s heartbeat was irregular, and every so often she heard whispers in her ear, weeping and pleading. In her mind, she replayed the instant the blight had stabbed Jagvir through the chest, through the hard pillar of his sternum and cartilage and into the membranous mediastinum, punching through vertebrae on the way out.
She’s not normal.
Something entered her line of sight. Slowly, her eyes focused on a waterskin.
“Drink,” Tav said.
She didn’t move for a long time. He continued to hold it out for her, waiting patiently. It made her want to scream and knock it out of his hand.
Instead, she accepted the waterskin and took two large gulps. It marginally helped.
“How do you feel?” Tav asked softly.
Kajal didn’t bother wiping her chin before shoving the waterskin back at him. “You’re the one who got hurt.”
After a moment’s confusion, he tried to peer over his shoulder at the shallow gash one of the undead Vadhia had made. “That? It’s already mostly healed.”
Of course it is. How nice to harbor such a benevolent power. How nice to not have anyone question his goodness.
“Oh, this is appropriately spooky,” Dalbir murmured as they approached the forest’s edge. It was made up of tall, thick pines, the canopy so heavy it blocked out most light. Between the trunks wove a thin, low mist. “The trees look odd. Don’t they look odd?”
Kajal silently agreed. Pines usually grew straight, but these were leaning and bent in different directions. Some of the trunks held strange bulges like tumors, and their roots had burst out of the ground to form a weaving, tangled web across the forest floor. She wondered if the blight had reached here as well, but no matter how hard she concentrated, she couldn’t detect any black veins. There was also no rotten, smoky smell—just the fresh, clean scent of pine needles and fertile soil.
Tav chewed his lower lip while his gelding danced to the side at either his nervousness or the general wrongness of the place. He was about to say something when he abruptly looked to the left.
Two tall figures emerged from the mist and shadows. They wore simple, threadbare clothes, and bows dangled from their hands. Kajal’s first thought was that the nagas had found them again, but as they came closer, Kajal saw they were women with lustrous brown skin. Each of them had braided their long, thick black hair into plaits that rested over their shoulders.
They could have almost passed for human were it not for their sharp black nails and the vertical blue eye that sat upon each of their brows.
Dalbir gasped as they and Vritika automatically warded against the evil eye. Jassi stayed very still, though her hand twitched to do the same. The two dakinis cast their gazes over all of them before settling on Tav.
They didn’t bow like the nagas had, but they did incline their heads. “Greetings, Holy Deva.” Their voices were deep and musical. One continued, “It has been some time since you walked this plane.”
Tav dismounted and approached them, returning the greeting. “We’re sorry to intrude on your sacred land. But we wouldn’t be here without reason.”
“We know why you are here,” the other said before they turned to the tree line. “We have been waiting. Come.”
Everyone exchanged wary glances. But as Jassi rode forward, one of the dakinis raised a hand to stop her.
“Only the deva may cross our border,” she said.
Jassi touched her throat, likely thinking about the rebels and how mad they would be if she ended up losing Tav.
“I’ll return,” he said solemnly. “No matter the weapon held at my neck, we both want my brother back.”
Jassi nodded. Vritika scowled, though she stayed a healthy distance away. One of the dakinis, no doubt sensing the blessed bolts Vritika carried, gave her a cool, assessing once-over.
The other dakini studied Kajal. They locked eyes for a lingering moment, Kajal’s skin clammy and tight, until the dakini tilted her head toward the forest.
“You as well,” she ordered.
Vritika made a choking noise. Dalbir grumbled, “How come she gets to go? This is a prime opportunity for research!”
Even Tav seemed uncertain why Kajal had been chosen to come along. Kajal flushed, not with embarrassment but with shock. She fumbled her dismount and staggered, but Kutaa was there to steady her.
“Stay with the others,” she whispered while petting him. “Hopefully we won’t be gone long.” Kutaa sighed but stayed put.
The low-hanging mist curled around their ankles and calves as they entered the dark forest. It was far colder in the shade, making her shiver. Some of Tav’s butterflies appeared out of nowhere to cast their moonbeam light.
There was a hint of something metallic in the air. It grew stronger the farther they walked, following the dakinis toward the heart of the forest. The roots were gnarled and twisting, rising from the base of the trees like the dead crawling from their graves.
Her foot snagged on one, and she lurched forward. Tav caught her as she grabbed hold of another root for balance.
It was in the shape of a hand, holding hers.
She scrambled away until she bumped against Tav’s chest. The dakinis turned, and when one of them noticed the root, she smiled grimly.
“They won’t hurt you,” she said. “They’re long dead.”
Tav cleared his throat, his hands on Kajal’s shoulders. “Who is?”
“Those we feed to the forest.” The other dakini gestured broadly to the thick, contorted trunks surrounding them. “Murderers. Rapists. Abusers.” Her eyes darkened. “So-called witch hunters.”
Kajal saw them clearer now. The shape of a leg. Clawing fingers. An eroded, screaming face in the bark.
“We hunt those who have committed grievous assault,” the dakini went on. “Once they’ve been mostly drained of blood to feed the village, we feed the trees. The roots absorb the nutrients of their flesh. It is the only use for them in this world.”
A thin trickle of sap seeped from a nearby tree. No—blood. The source of the metallic smell in the air. The other dakini scooped it up with her finger and licked it clean. Meeting Kajal’s stare, she smirked as the eye upon her forehead narrowed.
“Nothing goes to waste,” the dakini said.
Kajal and Tav silently followed them onward. The yaksha butterflies trailed behind, either warded from going any farther or affected by the heavy energy of the forest. Now that she knew the bodies were there, Kajal sensed a restless stirring beneath her feet. The trees creaked and groaned every so often, their bark sheltering bones that cried for the relief of fire. So long as their bodies remained unburned, their souls would never journey to Patala to begin the process of rebirth. They were stuck here in endless torment.
Whispers kissed her ears, begging for justice, for pain, for revenge.
This is justice, she thought viciously.
They quieted at once.
“Haven’t they formed bhutas?” she asked.
The dakinis shook their heads. “Their bodies are absorbed by the trees, so anything that remains of their spirit gets absorbed as well. It’s why the forest is so well protected. If anyone tries to enter without our permission, they’re swiftly stopped.”
Curious, Kajal prodded her enigmatic connection with Lasya, wondering if her bhuta would form despite the dampening effect of the forest. She couldn’t tell if she was relieved or dismayed when nothing happened.
Eventually, they emerged into a spacious clearing surrounded by small white buildings with domed, thatched roofs. It left the center free for a wide communal well and mud chulhas, where pots bubbled and simmered, their steam smelling of meat and herbs. Women squatted before flat iron pans, flipping rotis with their bare fingers. Laundry hung up to dry on long stretches of rope, and a couple of children were using the long kurtas and uttariyas to hide from one another as they played.
Kajal couldn’t help but gawk. Roughly half of the population were dakinis, but the other half were humans of all ages. The majority seemed to be women, from an old auntie clucking her tongue and swatting her hand at the rowdy children to a young woman—hardly older than Kajal—who sat sewing on a stump.
It was that young woman who looked up with haunted eyes and froze at the sight of Tav. The others gradually became aware of him as well, and though the dakinis didn’t seem particularly fazed, the humans either tensed or hurried back inside.
The two dakinis who had led them through the forest said something in a dialect Kajal wasn’t familiar with. The humans’ reactions ranged from shock to doubt to intrigue. Many remained fearful and stayed close to whichever dakinis were nearby.
Tav scanned the village as if looking for something, then lowered his gaze in an effort to alleviate their discomfort. “I’m sorry. I can leave, if that would be easier.”
“So long as you don’t stray deeper into the village, it’s fine,” said one of their guides. “We’ve told them you are the deva. We’ve allowed you to cross our border for this reason and this reason alone.”
“Most of them haven’t laid eyes on men in years,” added the second.
“I understand.” Tav kept his gaze averted. “I apologize for disturbing the peace.”
The other dakini smirked. “You’ll know if you’ve disturbed the peace.” Her hand tightened on her bow. “Come.”
Kajal and Tav followed their guides around the outskirts of the village. Kajal wondered where all these people had come from, how they had found this place, or if the dakinis had rescued them. The woman sewing on the stump shut her eyes tight as they walked by, and Kajal noticed a long, jagged scar near her temple.
She remembered the day villagers had thrown rocks at her and Lasya. How one had struck her sister, making her bleed.
A sound left her throat, and Tav turned. Whatever showed on her face made his own tighten in…what, concern? He had no reason to be concerned about her. She’d done nothing to deserve it.
She shouldered past him and hurried behind the dakinis until they reached a spot outside the village where a handful of elders were sorting through plants, either putting them into clay pots or grinding them into pastes or pressing them to dry. Their braids were threaded with silver, and some were using those long, thick plaits as an additional limb to grab shears or jars when their hands were full.
When they spotted Tav, they stopped working and got to their feet.
“Please don’t stop on my account,” Tav said.
One of the older dakinis stepped forward with a hoarse laugh. “It is not every day the deva comes calling.” She reached up to pinch Tav’s cheek, and he let her. “Especially when that deva is supposed to be dead.”
“I…” Tav glanced at Kajal, then away. “I’m not dead. Anymore.” The other dakinis laughed. “But the asura is.”
They sobered at this. Dakinis were considered rakshasas and were therefore under the care of the asura. Without that pivotal tie between Martya and Patala, between the humans and the other rakshasas, they had considerably less protection against any who decided to do them harm. Humans, mostly; the Vadhia, specifically.
Kajal stared at their third eyes, thinking of all the times people had flicked their fingers at her.
“The usurper called Anu Bakshi killed my brother and scattered pieces of his body.” Tav swallowed hard. “We were told there would be more information here.”
The dakini elder brushed her hands off on her uttariya and nodded to the others to resume their work. They did so with reluctance, obviously piqued by the drama.
“You may call me Ruhi,” she told Tav. “Follow me.”
They walked farther into the forest, along with their two original guides, who seemed to act as bodyguards; whether for the elder or for Tav and Kajal was uncertain.
“For some years now, we have not been alone in this forest,” Ruhi said. “To the east prowls a being of immense strength and power. He does nothing but pace the same spot over and over. He is guarding something, though none of us have been able to get close enough to figure out what, and the forest’s protections have done nothing against him. We do not let the humans near, for fear that he will perceive them as a threat.”
Out here, the pines weren’t as gnarled, and there was more foliage. Apparently, the dakinis kept this part of the forest unfed. They passed under a tree where a dakini sat among the branches, bow balanced on her knees. She nodded at them.
“Nothing unusual today,” she called.
“We keep him watched,” the dakini elder explained. “Though for nearly two decades he has never strayed from this spot.”
Nearly two decades. The amount of time Tav and Advaith had been dead.
Their guides silently gestured for them to crouch. Peering through the trees and underbrush, Kajal could see a clearing lush with grass except for a ring of hardened dirt around its boundary.
