The Third Eye (16 page)

“A candle, a candle!” she sang out.

“Correct!” said Maya, sounding a bit disappointed.

“Here is the last one, Tara. If you can answer this, the fountain will appear and the water is yours. Oh, and by the way, you have very little time left to get back to Ananth. No pressure,” said Maya with a cold smile.

Tara kept her face expressionless, but her heart was hammering.

“Ask your last riddle.”

“I see you and you see me,

Alike yet apart are we.

If another person should see,

I am he or she is me.”

She waited in silence while Tara stared at her, stumped. She did not even know where to start. Her stomach contracted and her hands and feet were icy.

“Please, Maya. Could you repeat it one more time?” asked Tara in a quavering voice, hoping to buy some more
time. Her head ached.

Maya repeated it again, a smile playing on her lips.

“Do you concede defeat?”

“
NO WE DON'T!
” squeaked Mushika. “Tara, let me help, let me help. Could it be bread? Elephant? Kettle? Monkey? Tree?” he started muttering.

“Quiet!” growled Tara. “I'm trying to think.”

Her mind was a complete blank.
Think, think, think
, she told herself,
or you're stuck here forever
. She prayed to Lord Ganesh, clasped her hands together, and paced.

Maya was tapping her foot impatiently.

“Time is up!”

“Maya, please, just one more minute. I know the answer, I really do, I just can't remember it.”

Maya relented, but an hourglass miraculously appeared in her hand and the sand started trickling through at a furious pace.

“One minute left, Tara. You'd better hurry up.”

Tara was desperate.
Mother, where are you? If you had not disappeared, none of this would be happening.
But then her mother's words came back to her, a whisper in her ear.
“If you are ever sad, look into the mirror I gave you and you will find strength.”

Tara hastily pulled out the mirror pendant her mother had given her and glanced at the sand in the hourglass, hoping for a miracle. She gazed back at the mirror again and her eyes widened.

“Fifteen seconds left, Tara. I suggest you give up.”

It was almost down to the last few grains and Mushika was swinging from her left earlobe in a panic.

“
A MIRROR,
” she yelled as the last grain of sand fell.

Maya looked annoyed, but her anger soon passed and her face was calm again. All around them, the cave transformed. The silvery fountain reappeared. The water fell with a melodious, tinkling sound.

“Well done, Tara. You are the first person to have solved my riddles. But there is no time to waste. You have but a few minutes left. Ananth is waiting,” said Maya.

From the folds of her saree she drew a glass bottle with a golden stopper.

“Take this bottle and fill it up. Give the first few drops to this brave little mouse here, and then give the rest to Ananth. He will be restored to life.”

Tara took the proffered bottle. She ran to the fountain and held it out. Silver stars fell in and melted into clear water as the bottle filled up rapidly. Mushika sat on her shoulder, his eyes glinting with excitement. Tara lifted him from her shoulder and set him on the ground. Mushika opened his mouth eagerly and Tara poured in a few drops of the precious water. The moment the water slid down his throat, Mushika gave a violent shudder, flipped on his back, and lay still. Tara clapped her hand to her mouth in horror.

“Maya, what happened to Mushika? Is he dead? What did you make me give him? Is this the Water of Life or Death?”

She was babbling, but Mushika was so dear to her now
that she could not bear to be the one to have killed him.

“Patience, my child. Watch,” said Maya.

Small pink stubs were poking out of Mushika's belly. As they watched, the legs elongated and little toes appeared. Within seconds, Mushika looked like a normal little mouse sleeping on his back. He opened his eyes and flipped over. Realization hit him instantly. He jumped, hopped, and ran around squeaking while Maya and Tara laughed at his antics.

“I must go. I want to see Ananth alive once again,” said Tara.

She stooped to touch Maya's feet in a gesture of respect and profound gratitude.

“Bless you, my child; you are brave and intelligent,” Maya told her. “I am very impressed with you. Take the tunnel from the far side of the cave — it will lead you straight to the entrance. And remember: do the right thing.”

Tara, who was striding rapidly to the far end, heard the words and turned back, but Maya and the fountain had already vanished. What did she mean by that: “do the right thing”? And where had she heard this advice before? As Tara climbed the steep tunnel, she pondered the words. She was brought back to reality by a mouse who was determinedly practising mountain climbing on various parts of her anatomy.

“Stop that, you little idiot,” she said as Mushika's feet dug into her neck, ears, and even her nose! “Enough already! You've gotten your legs back. They have to last
you a lifetime, so don't wear them out already.”

The air was starting to smell sweeter, bringing a promise of freedom and sunshine. Tara sprinted up in her eagerness to reach Ananth. Mushika held on for dear life.

“Slow down,” he managed to squeak through clenched teeth.

“I can't! I want to reach Ananth before it's too late.” In the broadening daylight at the end of the tunnel Tara saw a bundle of rags. They seemed to be moving. She slowed down.

“What is that?” she whispered to Mushika.

“I don't know. Let's go closer, but be careful.”

She strode up to the bundle, hoping against hope that this would not be another test. She clutched the bottle with the precious water to her chest. Drawing nearer, she saw that it was not a bundle of rags but a man writhing on the ground. A filthy, tattered kurta and pyjama covered his crumpled body. His long, dirty hair was matted and crawling with lice. His face was covered with grime, except where tears had streaked down his face, cutting a clear path through the filth. A small sound issued from his cracked, swollen lips. Tara knelt.

The man opened a puffed eye, caked with white mucous, and muttered, “Water ...”

Tara leaned closer. He looked ill and stank strongly of urine. Tara tried not to wrinkle her nose in disgust.

“Baba, I have something that I must do. I'll be back very soon with water and help.”

“
NO!
” he croaked. “Help ... now. What's ... in ... your hand?”

A solitary ray of sunshine had found its way into the tunnel. It lit up the bottle of water clenched in Tara's hand. The beggar had forced open both eyes and was now looking at the bottle as his pleading continued.

“Water ... I don't ... want ... to die.”

Tara looked at him in dismay.

“Not this water, Baba. This is for my brother, Ananth, who is lying dead in the clutches of Lord Yama. This water will bring him back to life.”

“Water ...
please
.”

His voice trailed into an exhausted croak. His eyes closed and he lay still.

“What should I do, Mushika? I can't go back in to get more water. Baba will die if I leave him. If I give it to him, I have lost Ananth forever. What should I do?” She chewed her lower lip ferociously.

Lord Yama's words came back to her:
“Help a person in need. You may end up helping yourself.”

“Do the right thing, Tara.” Mushika's words made her look up: he'd said exactly what Maya and Lord Yama had said to her earlier. She looked at the sick man. She looked back at the tunnel and all the horrors she had experienced in there. Could she turn away from a living person to bring someone back from the dead? If this was right, why did it take so much effort? What about Ananth? After all this, was she to lose him forever?

The old man raised a trembling hand to her in mute appeal. She saw the wrinkles, the thick, blue veins that criss-crossed under his pale skin. The hand fell back and he was still. Tara made her decision. She uncorked the bottle and raised the old man's head into her lap.

“Open your mouth, Baba. Here is the water.”

She tilted his head back and poured the water down his throat. As the water slid out in a silvery stream, it seemed like all the happiness was draining out of her body. She stood up in a daze of pain. Ananth's dead body swam into her mind's eye and her eyes filled with tears, blurring her sight.
Ananth, I am so sorry I could not save you. I had to save Ba
—

“Tara,” said a familiar voice.

Her eyes snapped open. Ananth stood in front of her, grinning from ear to ear. He rushed to her and gave her a hug. She stood there, sobbing. Mushika sat on her shoulder and wept, too.

“That old man was you?” she said.

Ananth nodded.

Lord Yama appeared at the mouth of the cave and beckoned to both of them.

“I am so proud of you, Tara. You remembered all my instructions and followed them. Your heart is as pure as you are brave. This was the last test to see if you would let someone die for the selfish purpose of bringing your brother back to life. You are true to your name: ‘Tara,' which means ‘star.' You are a guiding light to all who know
you. If you ever need my help, blow into this shell and I will be there,” he said, handing her a pearly white conch shell with a pale pink edge.

“And there are your things,” he said, pointing to their bundles at the mouth of the cave.

Tara folded her hands and bowed her head. She took the shell from him and tucked it into her pocket. Lord Yama mounted his bull, clip-clopped off into the trees, and vanished.

Laughing and crying at the same time, Tara clasped Ananth's hand, not daring to believe she had survived the journey and brought her brother back to life. Hope and confidence surged through her body and she felt happier than she had in a long, long time.

“Tara, you did it,
all alone
. I am impressed. It feels so good to be alive again.”

“I did have some help. This is Mushika.”

She held out her right hand where Mushika sat, nose woffling, bright, black eyes glinting. Ananth stroked his head.

“So, this is your little guide. Thank you, Mushika! Tara, you have given me a new life and it is pledged to you till we can find your mother and grandfather.”

Tara's heart was bursting with joy as they walked away from the cave. She had fought against a situation that most people would have considered hopeless and
won
. She had brought Ananth back from the dead. She felt up to any challenge now. And she had gained a new friend, who now
lay fast asleep in the inner pocket of her kurta.

“Zarku will not take long to find out that we are still alive. The attack on us will be swift and soon,” said Ananth in a serious voice. “Let's get to that temple, Tara. Our lives, and the lives of all the villagers, will depend on how quickly we can find Prabala and bring him back to Morni.”

Tara quickly located the twin peaks in the Shivaliks, between which the temple lay, and headed for them. It was late afternoon and the sun was already losing heat. Black clouds sailed past its face, heralding a stormy night ahead.

“Let's find a safe place for the night and we can decide what to do tomorrow,” said Tara. “I am so tired I could sleep right here,” she continued with a loud yawn.

They walked in silence, keeping a lookout for shelter. Mushika had woken up and was perched on Tara's shoulder, scanning the path along with her. He squeaked and his long tail whipped up and pointed. The path they walked on hugged the mountain on the right. The road fell away to a steep valley on the left. Far below in the waning daylight they could see many people clumsily climbing the slopes. There was no mistaking their greenish hue and dark hair.

“Vetalas. They're searching for us,” said Ananth.

Mushika's sharp eyes spotted a crevice in the mountain as they walked past.

“There,” he squeaked in excitement.

Ananth and Tara stopped to examine the narrow fissure in the rock. It seemed big enough for both of them to squeeze through. But would there be any place to sit and rest?

“Let me take a look,” said Ananth.

He squeezed inside. Tara stood outside, rubbing her arms to keep warm. Her eyes focused on the valley below. It was impossible to see anything in the gloom. She looked up. Stars adorned the night sky as if someone had carelessly scattered diamonds on a black carpet.

“Well, what do you see?” asked Tara, after a few moments.

“It's very narrow, but deep,” called out Ananth. His voice sounded hollow and muffled.

“Hurry up. I'm freezing,” said Tara.

There was no reply from Ananth. Suddenly, a green hand shot out from the crevice and grabbed her wrist. Tara shrieked in panic and, snatching her hand away, sprinted up the path. Laughter reached her and she stopped. She whirled back in anger as she recognized the voice.

“You, you ... stupid idiot,” spluttered Tara, stomping back to him.

“I'm sorry,” Ananth said as he squeezed out of the crevice covered with green moss. “I couldn't resist.”

The dangerous gleam in Tara's eyes stopped any further joking.

“This crevice is quite deep, and at the very back is a small cave,” continued Ananth. “If we collect firewood, we could light a small fire.”

“That's a stupid idea,” said Tara in a cold voice. “The smoke will give us away. I have a couple of blankets. We can use those.”

“I'm sorry, Tara. I didn't mean to scare you. Can't I even tease my sister?”

Tara looked at his mischievous eyes glinting in the moonlight. She was suddenly reminded of Suraj.

“All right, but don't do it again.”