Chapter 30 #2
It cocked its head at me curiously, as if it felt the same about me, before launching into the air and flying away. I watched it go, wishing I could follow. But there was work to be done.
By now, we had already gone some distance from the entrance, where the guards kept watch, so I turned to Aru and lowered my voice conspiratorially. “I’m sorry for causing you to worry earlier, but the Spirits spoke to me while we were in the temple.”
Aru stopped and stared at me. I searched his face for signs of distrust but found only surprise. “They spoke to you?”
I nodded eagerly. “They painted a picture in my mind’s eye so clear that even now I can see all of its details.”
Parushi walked nearby, deliberately avoiding looking at us as her eyes darted up and down the grounds. But I knew her well enough to be certain she was listening.
“What did you see?” Aru asked nervously. “It must have been terrible, for you to react like that.”
I reached for his hand, and he happily took mine.
“I was riding Maraan through our fields. It was daytime, but it was strangely dark, as if the world was covered in shadows even though the sun was trying to shine. No matter where I went, rot covered all our crops, and they fell to the ground in shades of gray and brown. I kept on riding, kept trying to find a healthy spot, but I couldn’t.
I must have ridden all the way to the coast because suddenly I was on a beach.
It was completely deserted except for one thing: a cradle. ”
“A cradle?” Aru interrupted, his pitch jumping as high as his eyebrows. “Was there a baby?”
“The cradle moved and bulged as if something was in it, but when I went to check, there was no baby. There was a small Porcugi!”
Aru inhaled sharply but gestured for me to continue. I couldn’t have asked for a more captivated audience.
I lowered my voice again. “Instead of blankets, the Porcugi was surrounded by piles of spices. But when I tried to dump it out of the cradle, it wouldn’t fall no matter how hard I shook.
I begged the Spirits for help, and they sent a flock of adaiman.
The birds assembled into a wall as they flew, and then they flapped their wings in unison, creating a wind so mighty that the Porcugi and all the spices were dumped into the sea. ”
Aru leaned closer with my every word, and his eyes widened. Parushi kept up the pretense of staying on guard, but I could see a wicked smile crossing her face as she realized what I was doing.
“After that,” I continued, keeping my voice low, “the adaiman circled around me, and a baby appeared in my arms. The baby was perfect. It had your eyes, your laugh, and my curls. And it gripped my finger with the strength of one thousand tigers. I hugged our baby close and didn’t want to let go, but the adaiman led me back to the cradle.
I don’t know why or how, but I knew that the cradle was now safe, so I laid our baby in it.
When I did, the fields behind me rose up again, the picture of health.
My heart was full, and Banghervari prospered. ”
“Our baby.” Aru squeezed my hands. “The Spirits gave you a vision of our son.”
“Yes, our baby.” I didn’t want to argue but I also couldn’t bring myself to say “son” when Ullal needed a daughter. “It was as if the Spirits screamed the vision into my mind. It must mean something.”
“Yes, but what.” Aru tapped his chin. “The will of the Spirits is so hard to understand. Perhaps we should consult Vishwajeet.”
“My raja”—I dulled the edge that crept into my voice—“I think this vision is for us. If the Spirits wanted Vishwajeet to know, they would have given it to him. You and I must set the course for Banghervari and Ullal. It is for everyone else to follow our lead.”
“Right, as usual.” Aru rubbed his temples as he thought.
Parushi rolled her eyes, but I stayed silent. He needed to come to the right conclusion himself. He needed to believe in it enough to stand up to the pressure we’d surely face.
Aru snapped his fingers. “The meaning is clear.”
I held my breath, praying he’d seen the right “clear” meaning in the vision I’d created.
“We must eliminate the Porcugi,” Aru said, striking his open palm with his fist. “Once the Porcugi was gone, the Spirits gave us our heir and allowed our crops to prosper. There is only one path for us: We will send the Porcugi back to the sea.”
He smiled as he walked into the sunlight with his shoulders thrown back. This was the raja I wanted to see: confident, proud, and ready to fight for the sake of his people. All he’d needed was a little nudge to get there.
“Of course!” I said. “It’s so obvious now. We must cast the Porcugi back into the ocean to please the Spirits, and then they’ll bless us with a child.”
“I will not have any snake monsters coming between us.” Aru looked down at me intently and put his hands on my stomach. “Or our son. The Spirits have spoken; we have no choice but to obey. I will do whatever it takes to cast the Porcugi away.”
His solemnity was broken as his eyes crinkled into a smile. “That rhymed!”
“Indeed,” I said. “A warrior and a poet. It would seem you’ve hidden many parts of yourself from me. Perhaps one day you can sing while I play my tambura.”
Aru laughed. “I would never hide anything from you. But I would love to hear you play.”
He stepped closer to me. He didn’t need to put his fingers under my chin anymore; there was no escaping the way my eyes were drawn to his.
His fingertip brushed from my shoulder to my elbow and down to my wrist and then my hand.
But instead of holding it, he traced each of my fingers individually as he asked, “Perhaps you could come by with your instrument tonight? And you could play for me?”
My blushing cheeks answered his question.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Aru said with satisfaction. “And I welcome the chance to prove that I am hiding none of myself from you.”
I wished I had my fan. The sun was shining brightly overhead, and the sari combined with all the jewelry made the heat unbearable. Surely that was why I suddenly felt so warm.
“If you have the energy.” I challenged him with a smirk. “We have a lot of work to do when we return to the palace.”
“All the more reason to do it quickly.” Aru’s smile was wolfish as he extended his hand to me and led me through the gates and out of the garden. “We will write and seal the order as soon as we get home.”
My steps were lighter as we made our way back to the palanquins. The sun’s heat didn’t bother me so much anymore, and the many layers of my sari flowed with my steps. I was about to step onto my palanquin when I realized something. “I didn’t finish my prayer!”
Nobody had time to argue. I hurried back into the temple, ignoring the gasps of the people who had finally been let back in after our departure. The monk holding the tray of incense was frozen in shock and didn’t offer a stick to me. I took one anyway and gave him my thanks as I went in.
The cool bricks were a balm on my hot feet and knees. After I lit my incense, I brought my forehead down to the floor in a full bow. People around me scrambled to do the same, but I hardly noticed.
For the first time in a very long time, I prayed to the Spirits.
And I thanked them.