Page 81 of The Enduring Universe
Instead of replying, she began her vow, their hands intertwined, and they said it together, promising to traverse a path together or not at all. His hands skimmed her waist, pulling her closer as they ended on the same note, and she raised hers to his shoulders, feeling both their bodies meld as their lips touched.
Ahilya felt the breath rising in his chest, the warmth of his lips, the sensation of his skin. All of it felt like home—and it was important, it was so important that she remember this, that she never forget. He strengthened beneath her, sighing, and sunlight and laughter took her over, and everything else faded into shadows. Ahilya closed her eyes, and—
49
AHILYA
Iravan’s sobs filled her ears.
With all three visions merging, Ahilya watched as he scrambled away from her in the cave. He looked like himself for the first time, wearing not the black uniform of the Ecstatics but his Senior Architect clothes, a white shin-length kurta with his sleeves rolled back accompanied by narrow white trousers. On his wrists and around his neck hung rudra-beads, but they were no longer the complete set. Cracked sungineering wiring peeked from within them, an indication of something broken, though the beads still buzzed with energy. Reality rippled—distorting—and he vibrated for an instant, his clothes turning black, his hands still trying to crush her throat, as if reality wished to hold him hostage to that awful moment. It was as if different realities were cascading one into another, and for an instant, Ahilya saw both the images together, overlaid atop each other. Iravan scrambling away from her, dressed in his Senior Architect uniform, and Iravan in his Ecstatic black, fingers still pressed to her throat. Which one was true? What did she trust? By sheerforce of will, not believing anything else was possible, Ahilya stabilized the image, and Iravan—her Iravan—remained in the cave, staring up at her, while the one who had been trying to kill her vanished.
“You came for me,” he wept. “You came for me. Why?”
She threw her arms around him protectively. “In this life and the next,” she whispered, repeating the words of their wedding vow. “In this world and every other.”
He cupped her cheek, but shook his head. “You cannot hold this reality forever,” he said. “I suspected it after I united with the falcon, after I subsumed it.” In this space where they could see into each other’s minds, explanations poured out of him, and Ahilya saw them in all their urgency.
It had begun when he’d united with the falcon-yaksha in the habitat. The falcon had built like silence in his head, slowly yet steadily forming a voice in his mind. At first, he had not questioned it—it was a part of unity.
But the rage had cemented, tearing away everything else in its loathing. The falcon had stripped him of himself, piece by piece, until all that remained was this creature of shame and shadows. He had given too much to the yaksha in an attempt to find himself, and the creature had infected not just Iravan’s life but his memories, his past lives. Systematically, it had replaced the love the past lives had for their families with fury, breaking the tethers that had kept them anchored to life.
“Do you understand?” he whispered. “You want me to help you, but the falcon will never allow it. It has the everpower now, and it is going to destroy everything through me. It is not just the planetrage that is the threat, it is me. The falcon is going to kill you, and then it will kill the rest of them, all in its desire to kill the Virohi.” His hands shook in hers, panic seizing him. “It cannot see beyond itsanger. It cannot see anything but the Virohi within you. I have to end myself. I have to end this.”
Ahilya pressed her will and the past lives retreated, though their intention—commanded and warped by the falcon—pushed back against her. She knew she could not hold them back forever. That this fragment where she and Iravan could talk was already diminishing. She was holding reality at bay. Could she change it completely?
Iravan saw the questions on her face. His voice grew frantic. “Please,” he sobbed. “Please, Ahilya. There is no time for anything else. Only you can end this. Here, with the power of the vriksh, only you can end me. They are a part of me. Please, Ahilya, please—”
She knew what he was asking her. Now, when she had caught him in an instant of vulnerability, she could turn the tree against him. For brief seconds while she held this shard of reality, she could obliterate his memories—and then him. All it would take was calling the leaves of his memories. She could crush them under her feet. The way Iravan had once crushed her rudra-bead between her fingers.
It would not be an end to this nightmare.
It would be an end to him.
Shadows grew in Iravan’s eyes as the past lives crowded into him. His voice was changing, as was his face. His clothes were darkening to the Ecstatic black. Silver was creeping into his eyes, reflecting her. “Let me go,” he whispered.
“No.”
“Ahilya—” His voice was growing colder. A glint of sharp smile. “Please—”
“No!” She gathered all her love for Iravan, all her frustration, their fights, their anger, their pain, their memories, theirlifetogether. She called a maelstrom of leaves to swirl around them both, whipping her hair in a gale. The leaves rushed, becoming a tree, tall andslender, forced by her mind—but before they could root deeper into the Etherium, Ahilya raised her arm and an axe appeared, the same way when Basav had charged her to destroy the Virohi.
She brought the axe down in a brutal gesture.
The tree that was filled with her husband’s consciousness split down the middle, turning immediately into ash.
Iravan disappeared from the Etherium.
50
IRAVAN
Blankness.
***
Emptiness that lasted for a long, interminable instant.
***
