Page 58 of The Legend of Meneka
“People you gathered,” I say, dazed. “What do you mean?”
He waves at something in the distance and I let my vision sharpen. A mess of huts dot the landscape, too many to be a mere village but too far away to know. At first, I wonder if it is another hermitage, but something about the lines of the tents is too uniform, the trackstoo firm, and then I see what could only be fighting grounds for warriors.
“An army,” I breathe. “Not just people. You collected anarmyhere.”
“I did,” he confirms. “All of them await my instruction, sheltered for now with a royal I trust. I will make ready to attack Indra soon. He forced my hand with the halahala. I only waited until the Mahasabha to see if the sages would aid me, but they have made their choice, and it does not matter. I have made my choice too.”
I turn to him, horrified, knowing any objections will only anger him further. Now, when I am so cut off from my own power, I dare not rile him. So I shake my head and choke out, “How? How did you create this?”
“Let me show you,” he says.
Kaushika’s eyes flutter shut and his lips part. A chant flows from him. Unlike the ones before, this one sounds raw. Unmade.
His voice is as beautiful as ever, but where his other mantras have a practiced quality to them, this one is carefully sung, as though Kaushika himself is unsure of it and needs to focus on every syllable and how it is intoned.
Even as I watch, the grass around us grows taller. The breeze cools, ruffling my hair against my cheek. The tips of my fingers and toes tingle, and a sweet taste enters my mouth. The air behind us wrinkles with his song, and waves of it tumble away from Kaushika. Far from us, a hill erupts, silent dust ballooning and puffing, like the ground itself is breathing. Further away, air currents come up against an invisible wall, waves lapping against an unseen dome. Everythingripples, the sky, the earth, even the two of us.
My vision shakes. I know that beyond the wall is unmade reality, waiting to be molded. All magic changes reality to some extent, but how long will this endure? Will this place fall apart if Kaushikahimself does? Is this realm dependent on him the way Amaravati is dependent on Indra? How does this make Kaushika any different from the deva he challenges?
Kaushika stops singing and opens his eyes. For a long moment, neither of us speaks. We watch as the ripples of air slowly dissipate, and the blur of unmade reality softens, a gap closing. Our gazes find each other. The reverberations of the chant still echo in my heart. They curl in my stomach like a quiet flame. I expect the chant to have only horrified me further, but this is where the beauty of the place comes from—from Kaushika himself. Yet the darkness comes from him too.
“What is this mantra?” I whisper.
“A chant to all the deities of nature,” Kaushika says. “To the sun, the moon, the stars. A chant to the earthly, celestial, and atmospheric spheres. To petal and song, to wave and soil, to a single diffused particle of light and to our own immortal souls. A chant to everything manifested and unmanifested. This one chant is my greatest triumph, Meneka. It is an invitation to all the powers that exist, big or small. This is a chant to create and nourish a universe itself.”
My voice is small. “I—I don’t understand.”
“Indra rules his swarga, and he rules it with tyranny. I promised King Satyavrat peace, and if Indra cannot grant it, then I must grant it myself.” Kaushika smiles and throws out his hand. “I have created another heaven, my dear. One that will be ruled with righteousness. One that willreplaceAmaravati.”
My eyes widen in shock. I shake my head, trying to deny his words, but the evidence of his power confronts me. I have done everything now, but though I myself have changed from the start of my mission, I could never have imagined this. Beautiful or not, this chant … this place … it is evil. The sages are right. Kaushika has gone too far. I swallow, trying to form words. It takes me three attempts.
“Why do you make your own heaven?” I croak. “Even if Indra has abandoned humanity, swarga is still pure.”
“Is it?” Kaushika says. “When Amaravati and swarga are so tied to a corrupt god? No, my war cannot stop with Indra. I seek to usurp him and place someone more worthy on his throne, but even I understand Indra and Amaravati are irrevocably tied to each other. Indra built the city with his bare hands, laying every brick, planting every seed. Amaravati will lose her power without him. Righteous souls might never find a path into the city without him. That is why I created this meadow—to allow these souls sanctuary before they are released into a new birth. For now, my meadow is fragile, and it cannot hold souls for eternity. I do not yet have the power to churn a soul into rebirth, but I will learn. I will find it to fulfill my vow.”
“No one has that power,” I say, alarmed. “Not even Shiva. To allow rebirth is the nature of theuniverseitself, which dies and is reborn every second. Even swarga exists as a temporary abode for souls, holding them until it is their time to be reincarnated.”
“Then that is the knowledge I need,” Kaushika says, and there is a note of frustration in his voice. “It is why I must keep on my path as a rishi, perhaps until I can become the greatest rishi possible. For all its beauty and power, this place is yet dead—unconnected to prana. I can perform my magic here, and this meadow makesmestronger just like Amaravati makes Indra strong. But the meadow is useless to others, who must return to the other realm to replenish their life force. That is its weakness.”
“The other sages will not allow you to do this,” I say desperately. “They will not help you find this secret.”
“The other sages have already tried to stop me, but they have no power here. They follow Shiva’s path, Meneka; they will not interfere. To do so would deplete their own tapasya, and they are too intent ontheir desire for enlightenment. By the time they pay attention …” He shrugs. “By then I will be successful, and they will see that there never was any need to stop me.”
My words fail me. I can only stare at him.
Kaushika grasps my hand. “Come,” he says. “The army has left, and it is all I can do to not let the poison rip this place apart. The other sages will call Shiva to take it away, or I must, but until then the meadow is not safe for us.”
We step back through the portal into the mortal realm. Therealmortal realm.
I take a deep breath as we arrive, leaves and soil and magic bursting in me, awakening and reconnecting me to Amaravati. My knees shake slightly, and a great relief floods me. Kaushika’s heaven was impressive, but the realm was a figment of his power, finite in its existence. My prana shrank there, as though enclosed in a vacuum. I am grateful to be back, to feel the warmth of a real dawn caressing my skin. Still, I shiver with dread, staring around me.
Nothing remains of the night of intimacy Kaushika and I spent here. No ice, no magic, nothing but a memory. With the morning, all has dissolved, but he is still here, watching me dress in my clothes from the hermitage. He does not interrupt me, but I know he is waiting for me to speak. My mind roils with everything he has told me. I try to sort my own thinking out. My intention has changed since the start of the mission. Kaushika’s actions were immoral to me once, but I have come to understand them. He was nothing but a mark, but now he is everything. Still, what he has done with the meadow is too much. I need him to see this. Despite what Rambha said, I can make him see reason. Ihaveto.
I turn to him. “If there is another way to fulfill your vow, will you abandon this war with Indra and Amaravati?”
He frowns. “Agastya asked me this too. To think of other meansto give King Satyavrat’s soul peace rather than the meadow. But after what Indra has done with the halahala, there can be no parley with the deva king. And Indra cannot stay in his swarga, Meneka, nor can swarga exist without him. This is the only way. We cannot have two heavens.”
I remember the gandharva ambassadors Indra sent. “You have not even tried to speak with him,” I say.
