Page 38 of The Legend of Meneka
I cannot stop looking at him. Days have passed since my meeting with Rambha, days in which I have not seen Kaushika, though that is hardly surprising. He has been busy preparing for the ceremony. I myself have not come to any conclusion on my feelings, but I know my spiraling questions have no place here. That Rambha is right isindisputable. I am here in the mortal realm, not to learn to be a sage but to complete a sacred task, a heavenly mission. I am here to save my home.
Yet it is hard to remember that now, when the chants to Shiva fill my ears and the air is heavy with spiritual intention. Not even in Amaravati have I felt such depth of connection to my own ineffable soul. Amaravati is gold and glimmer, pomp and pageantry, luxury and ostentation. The hermitage, by contrast, is a searing look into my own heart. The ceremony now, coated in formality, still retains an element of abandon and freedom. We come to give Shiva what we can, surrendering ourselves so we may free ourselves.
Beside me, Kalyani bumps my arm. I tear my eyes away from Kaushika, who is accepting Ananta’s offering, and smile at my friend.
We have barely spoken the last few days, the both of us caught up in preparation for the ceremony, but there is no awkwardness between us. I expected her to still be angry with me for my defense of Indra, but she sat next to me this morning, nervously showing me the thin bracelet she brought as an offering.
“Are you sure this will do?” she whispers now.
“Yes,” I reply, smiling. “It is quite powerful. You consecrated it, didn’t you?”
Kalyani nods mournfully. “Many times. But I don’t sense any power in it. Maybe I am not strong enough. Maybe I used too much in Thumri.”
I make no reply but squeeze her fingers in comfort. The bracelet does indeed hold power; I can sense it clearly, but it feels deeply buried. Perhaps she attempted to consecrate it using a chant to one of the devas in their natural form. There is something wild about its magic—sharp, dangerous, almost veiled. It reminds me of Amaravati, but of course that is hardly something I can tell her.
I turn my attention back to the platform. One by one, Kaushikacalls out the names of different students. Durvishi burns herbs for her demonstration. Outside, storm clouds clear just for an instant, her power forcing Surya’s sunshine to glow, forcing adeva.Kaushika nods, then bids her return to her seat. Sharmisha and Advik—lovers who opened themselves up to each other’s affection after speaking with me of Shakti—perform their magic together. Through a series of yogic postures that resemble part warrior forms, part dance, the two of them move around the gathering, their eyes trained only on each other. Flowers blossom in thin air, showering all of us in petals of roses, tulips, and jasmines. Advik tucks a small bud behind Sharmisha’s ear. The two nod at me from the stage, and a thrill shoots through me; this is because of what I said to them. Aypan comes next, chanting the entire time during their presentation. The arrows they unleash pierce through Kaushika’s own shield. Everyone can see how powerful they truly are.
One after another, disciples demonstrate their magic, each of their displays impressive. A deep gravity wraps around us all, holding our excitement and nervousness. So far, Kaushika has sent no one away—not even the students I cultivated with my lectures about the Goddess. Even Renika, who was most vocal about returning to her family, has stayed. I am reminded that though my sabotage wormed doubt into their minds, Kaushika still is a rishi, commanding more respect than me. They do not want to disappoint him. Will I be the first one to do so? Despite my own mortal practices, I have only a few runes at my disposal. I cannot fake their power with illusion, not in front of Kaushika. What if I present as the weakest here? Surely he will not send me away, not after the words he spoke to me?
Not if this vision is true, I think, unleashing the command toward him once again to reveal his lust. Throughout the morning, I have attempted to probe him, unbeknownst to anyone. The image hasn’t changed, not truly. Each time I have seen only a vision of my ownpleasure, Kaushika trailing kisses up my belly, his fingers entangled within mine as I show him where to touch me. His eyes blazing in satisfaction as I instruct him to suck and lave, whimpering as he does so.
The images are too distracting. I relinquish them almost as soon as they form. On the pavilion, Kaushika calls out Kalyani’s name. I press her hand in reassurance before she weaves past the other disciples to the front. Kalyani trembles and removes the thin gold bracelet from around her wrist. She presents it to Kaushika with both hands, and he nods, accepting the trinket.
What happens next, I cannot make sense of immediately.
The bracelet touches his skin, and I blink as sharp blue light fills my vision, shaped like a massive blade that shoots into the sky. It burns in my eyes, blinding me, silencing every other sense—then crashes down, casting all of us in dimness again.
Romasha’s prayer comes to an abrupt halt. The ceiling trembles, then shatters, people around us screaming, rising to their feet, scrambling back. The scent of scorching air fills my nose, and I see Kaushika looking stunned. His form undulates, blurry then sharp, like I am seeing him over a large distance.
I don’t realize it, but I am on my feet. I push people out of my way in my rush to get to him, tripping over all the puja samigri, the rice and incense sticks, the dhoop and the havan fire. Every other thought flees me, except to ensure that he is safe. My fingers are already casting the rune of protection, but then I understand what the undulation is. Kaushika has created a shield, one he made instinctively when light ricocheted off the bracelet. He is behind it, protected from whatever occurred.
But Kalyani is not.
She sways where she stands. Her hands are still open in offering. The bracelet she holds is replaced by black fumes that flicker and dance. The fumes are unlike anything I have seen before, dark likemidnight, glossy enough that the surrounding students are mirrored in them. I am hypnotized, staring at the way they are held in her palm. Her body does not move, but her mouth drops open, and behind his shield, Kaushika’s eyes widen in comprehension.
He breaks his shield, reaching for her in the same moment the fumes are absorbed by her skin.
Kalyani collapses where she stands just as Kaushika catches her. I am there in an instant, kneeling next to them. Silence rings around the pavilion, all of us staring in shock. Kalyani’s skin is turning dark, yet it is no natural shade. It is as though the blood inside her is blackening, drying. Her body spasms. Her eyes roll back into her head. Kaushika pulls back her sleeves with his own trembling hands, and I watch as darkness spreads from her palms in waves, each current climbing higher and higher, closer to her heart.
I look up to Kaushika, terror in my eyes. “Please,” I say uselessly. “Please.”
Kaushika begins chanting.
The mantra is too complex; I can barely keep track of the many syllables. It rises and falls, its words like one long verse. Kaushika’s magic blasts the air around us, thick and powerful like an unrestrained volcano. The fumes within Kalyani slow as he sings, and to my great relief, her chest rises in a shuddering breath even though her eyes remain closed.
“Is she all right?” I gasp. “Is she injured?”
“What was that?” Anirudh says, his voice trembling. “The blade … it looked like a lightning bolt.”
I look up to see that I am not the only one who has rushed to Kalyani. Romasha is here with Anirudh, and Eka and Parasara. Everyone else hovers close enough to help, but not close enough to disturb us, knowing we are the ones who care for Kalyani most.
Kaushika makes no answer to Anirudh. He closes his eyes and joins his palms together. A stream of chants emerges from him, melodious and quick. His voice is as deep and beautiful as ever, but there is something else in it now. A desperate kind of emotion, like he is unsure for the first time whether his chants will work.
The air ripples in front of all of us. I can almost see the letters of the mantra, like the most delicate calligraphy moving around in a swirl. Kalyani gives another shuddering breath then collapses again. Her chest moves, too shallow to mean anything good.
Terror grips my heart like never before. I find myself unable to think clearly. Tears trickle down my cheeks and I make to touch Kalyani, but Anirudh holds me back.
“Kaushika,” he says again. “What is it?”
