Page 7 of The Legend of Meneka
Rambha’s voice trembles, but her answer this time is unambiguous.“She is unique. She prides herself on never becoming involved with a mark, a failing I have tried to stamp out, yet it has only made her more creative with her missions. Her wits and resourcefulness cannot be denied, and it is because of those that she accomplishes her missions so successfully. While her illusions are rawer than other apsaras, she has been successful so far because she has learnt not to rely only on her magic and beauty. Instead, she studies her enemy deeply, carving her illusions based on who they are and what they fear. In a few years I would have her seduce more challenging marks, and with more training, she could one day become heaven’s greatest weapon. But please listen to me, my lord. She is not yet ready. You would be sacrificing a valuable asset—”
“And you, Meneka,” Indra interrupts. “You volunteer for this mission?”
My mind is still whirling from Rambha’s words about me. That she should think so highly of me, that she should think so little of me … Is she right? Do I have it in me to become swarga’s greatest weapon?
“Yes,” I whisper, raising my eyes to the lord.
“Then I agree,” the lord says simply. A smile alights on his lips. It transforms him and the throne room. The storm clouds clear. Stars rush in with a sublime shimmer. Agni, Surya, Vayu, and all the other lords exchange glances, their own auras becoming resplendent now that Indra’s fury no longer overwhelms them.
Indra moves forward in a blur, and then his hands are on my shoulders, straightening my posture, giving me strength. I am dazzled by being touched by him. Colors, sunshine, laughter—all of these spin in me, my own soul reacting to his divinity now that he looks upon me with such favor. I feel intoxicated, invincible. Magics I never knew I was capable of seem within arm’s reach. The illusions I can ordinarily do as an apsara are laughable; there is so much more grace I amsuddenly gifted. Is this how Rambha feels all the time? An absurd laugh escapes me, and I smile at her with pride and kinship, yet she utters a gasp.
“My lord,” she says before I can speak. “I must protest. Meneka spoke in error—letmehandle her. Letmetake this mission. I beg you.”
“I cannot spare you,” Indra says shortly. His eyes glint with the reflection of his hundred jewels as he considers me. “The mission is yours, daughter. Seduce Kaushika in the mortal realm. Find out his true agenda for heaven. Learn his lusts and secrets, and thwart him from his power-seeking ways. You shall get your heart’s desire—your freedom from any future missions. You shall be a goddess, a devi, in Amaravati. No one shall question your devotion to me or to swarga.”
Say no, Rambha’s look urges me.Ask for forgiveness. Please, Meneka. Please.
I am doing this for us, I try to tell her without speaking.
She blinks as though she has heard me, and I glance back at the lord. “I accept,” I breathe.
“Then go,” Indra says, waving a bejeweled hand. “Do not tarry a minute longer. The Vajrayudh approaches in six turns of the moon lord. You must stop Kaushika well before then.”
He turns his back on us to return to his throne. We are already forgotten.
Rambha’s body trembles with rage and fear. Her lips part, as though to implore the lord again, but then her hand grips me once more, this time painfully. We bow silently, and she wrenches me out of the chamber.
CHAPTER 3
Igrow lightheaded as we leave the lord. His power retracts from me, and I am suddenly alone with myself, reminded of who I am—a mere apsara, unsure of her place. The familiarity of Amaravati mocks me, whispers and taunts in every turn of the breeze. The golden, shimmering light is abruptly too bright, blinding me. I notice irrelevant details—the curve of a pillar, the etching on a wall, Rambha’s lustrous braid. My skin grows hot, then cool by turns, like I am about to take sick. My mind is blurred from the throne room, skipping from my desperation, to Indra’s enchantment, to the hot temptation of freedom. I oscillate between feeling powerful and poor, wanting to stand tall then slump in exhaustion. By the time Rambha and I return to the adjoining alcove, I am so lost in myself that my head is hurting and my throat is choked.
Rambha spins on me the moment we enter. She grabs my shoulders and shakes me hard. “How could you do this? That senseless boon to ask, and then to volunteer for this mission. What were you thinking?”
“I—I was thinking of you. T-To be like you. I meant to surprise you.”
“Instead, you blindsided me. Did you really think Indra was going to grant you freedom? He did not even know your name until tonight. You have no idea the things I did to prove my devotion to him. You have no idea what he and I share, what we’ve been through.”
I recoil from her sharp words. I have never seen her so upset.
Her cheeks are flushed with anger, and her aura glints crimson, its power lashing at me like a whip. Her scent grows sharp, spicy. I stepback from her, alarm clearing my head of its despair, but when she sees the expression on my face, the anger seeps out of her own. Slowly, her aura calms down, back into its usual peaceful state.
“Meneka,” she says softly, “what have you done, my love?”
She tugs me down to sit next to her, and I lay my head on her shoulder.
For a while, we remain still. Rambha strokes my hair over and over again. I try to contain my turmoil, but the moments in Indra’s throne room play in my mind repeatedly. I think of any other way the situation could have gone. How else I should have reacted to get what I want, and whether my desire for freedom had always been unattainable. I wonder if I could simply beg for forgiveness now, or if Indra would listen if I attempted to seduce Kaushika but said it was too hard.
Such a way of thinking is futile. Apsaras cannot fail missions. Once an apsara goes on a mission, she can only return if she is successful. If she is not, she is left in the mortal realm, exiled until she can prove her devotion to the lord in some other manner.
I shudder against Rambha. A shaky breath falls from my lips. I cannot believe this is how it will end. We were both here in this very alcove minutes ago. I had been contemplating telling her then of my plan, of myfeelings, but if her words to me since are any indication, she would have simply rejected me, if only to save me. A detached horror grows inside me as I accept the inevitability of my circumstances. This is the only way this could have gone. I try to breathe her in, screwing my eyes shut, attempting to forget what happened and delay the moment when I will be lost to the mortal realm. If she is truly my home, then this is all I have. I attempt to still my trembling shoulders, but wetness trickles into my hair, and my eyes fly open. Rambha is crying.
I immediately straighten, my own self-pity disappearing in the face of her sorrow. “I will be all right,” I say.
“You will,” she agrees vehemently, wiping her tears. “I am sending you with jewelry that channels more magic than you have ever used before. You will find this mortal man, and you will show him who you are, and you will return to me.” Her fingers flutter over my face again, cupping my cheek. “Youwillreturn to me.”
We are so close, her breath mingles with mine.
I want to say something. Make a move. Lean forward.
