Page 39 of The Legend of Meneka
“It’s poison,” Romasha replies grimly. “He has stopped it from spreading, but it needs to be extracted. Otherwise, Kalyani will die.”
Kaushika gives a curt nod but does not break in his singing.
“You know how to extract poisons,” Anirudh says, confused. “That’s an easy mantra.”
“Not this,” I whisper, surprising even myself. The understanding floods me at the same time I speak the words. “This is halahala.”
Kaushika gives me a piercing, assessing look, then nods. I stare at him, my mind churning.
This is why the magic of the bracelet felt so familiar to me. Why it reminded me of home. This bracelet is from Amaravati. I have seen it before, shining on my lord’s own wrist, so long ago the memory feels like a dream.
As for the poison … In my mind, I see the kalpavriksh—the holy tree where I prayed before coming to the mortal realm for my mission. The kalpavriksh emerged during the Churning of the Oceans, along with the amrit, the golden nectar that gave the denizens of Amaravati their immortality. Yet before the nectar appeared, the churningproduced halahala—a poison so lethal it killed many devas attempting to roil the oceans. To stop the poison before it could destroy everything, the Great Lord Shiva himself swallowed it, an act that turned his throat blue, earning him the name of Neelkanth—the blue-throated god.
Shiva risked his own life to save all of creation, but small drops of the poison escaped him. The drops spread through the realms, and Indra sent his warriors to claim them. The few that were discovered were placed within a vault in Amaravati that no one but Indra can access.
I stare at Kaushika now, who lowers Kalyani’s limp form to the ground. The lightning blade … the halahala … I know what he must think, yet Indra would never use the halahala for something like this, not even to attack a dangerous enemy. It would break every tenet of being a deva. He would be usurped by his own court. Shiva would descend on Indra with fury and damnation.
I want to utter these protests in any way I can without raising suspicions about my own nature, but Kaushika has not stopped chanting. The air fills with his magic, and Kalyani lies on the floor, her breathing labored.
I have no opportunity to speak my objections. Kaushika’s chanting continues well into the night. Sometimes he places his palms over Kalyani’s forehead, throat, and chest, trying to anchor different chakras. Other times, he moves his fingers in a rhythmic pattern, something I now know are meditative gestures that augment his power, similar to how the dance mudras augment mine. The heat of the magic overtakes the cool night, but I know it is because of the poison. Halahala is fighting Kaushika’s chants.
I kneel next to him, creating runes of wellness and strength—for myself, for him, for Kalyani. Through a blur of the hours, I realize that someone has cleared the pavilion of the remnants of the ceremony, removing all the puja samigri. Someone else brings us water,but I ignore it just as Kaushika does. He does not stop singing, but at one time, he takes off his sweat-drenched kurta, and I almost wish I could take mine off too. Rivulets of sweat run down his skin, and the glow of magic suffuses him, from his angular face to the hair on his arms and chest. My body grows warm, half-built images of his seduction dancing in me. It seems so meaningless now, everything I have been sent here to do, the charge to defeat him I have been given.
A desperate appeal echoes in me as I stare at Kalyani’s sickening complexion.Don’t die. Please don’t die.When Anirudh gently suggests I get some rest, I cut him off.
“I’m staying,” I say, and I look at Kaushika as I speak. Nothing can pull me away from here. Kalyani is my friend, the first one here in the hermitage. Myonlyone here, for all I know.
I expect an argument, but Kaushika is too intent on his mantra, and that’s the end of it. Hour after hour passes, and true darkness falls in the hermitage, compounded by the storm clouds. The poison moves within Kalyani’s body, sometimes climbing higher to her neck, sometimes descending to her very fingertips.
I try not to hover as Kaushika works, but he is too focused on his task to even know I am there. I am amazed at his power. That he can even do this, fighthalahala, for hours on end is beyond any magic, mortal or immortal. Indra himself cannot do this; I am certain of it. The lord of heaven is right to be terrified of Kaushika—but then my thoughts drift to the lord sending this poison to the hermitage. I shake my head, focusing once more on Kalyani, creating another rune to help Kaushika.
I am not the only one to offer my magic as assistance. Romasha burns herbs in small clay pots, creating a circle around Kaushika, me, and Kalyani. Scents swirl toward us, cinnamon, cloves, camphor. Their healing power rejuvenates me, evaporating my thirst, clearing my mind.
Someone else leads a chant, far enough from Kaushika so as not to disturb him but close enough to affect him. I do not hear the words, but I feel the vibrations in my body. When I look up, a shield hovers over us. The others are warding the hermitage, both to protect us from foes and to protect the outside world from the poison we now have. Shiva’s name is called out several times, a plea for the Lord of the Universe to come and take this halahala away, but I know it is futile. Shiva will not hear amidst so much chaos. It takes a clear mind to call Shiva, and though we are all trying, we are struggling.
I am beginning to wonder how long we can last, why Anirudh and Romasha have not sent people away to save themselves should the worst come to pass and the halahala is unable to be contained, when Kaushika shifts next to me.
He gives me a piercing look as though making a decision, then nods. The quality of his mantra changes. A tendril of fume rises from Kalyani’s mouth, and even as Kaushika sings, it enters his own mouth.
I don’t understand at first.
Then Romasha is there, the herbs abandoned, and Anirudh too, crouching down to the both of us. They stare at Kaushika as if seeing him for the first time.
“You cannot,” Romasha gasps. “Please, rishi, please. We need you to guide us. We need you, guruji.”
“Kaushika,” Anirudh says, his voice pained. It is all he is able to say.
I stare at Kaushika. I remember the disciple who burned herself with her tapasvin magic only a couple of months ago. I recall Kaushika taking the embers within himself, dissipating them. He could do that with raw tapasvin power, buthalahala?
He is not Shiva.
It will destroy him.
Anirudh and Romasha are still protesting, but Kaushika standsup. The poison has almost entirely left Kalyani’s body. She breathes deeply, then stills, falling into a restful sleep.
I am on my feet with my other friends, staring at Kaushika. I don’t hear their words of protest. A rushing sound overtakes my ears, blood pounding in my head. Kaushika takes several steps back, distancing himself from us. I do not see the poison flickering in his body in the same way it did for Kalyani. Does it mean he has already absorbed it, unable to pause its attack? He waves a hand, and I react in the same instant his shield snaps toward us. I leap forward, closer to him, my fingers sketching the rune of stability. I pour all my magic into it with the very last of my tapasvin power.
Anirudh and Romasha stagger back, Kalyani between them.
