Chapter 15 The Tentacled Monster #2
“Following your logic, then, the rest will attack if Prince Veer fails to defeat the monster, right?” came Girish’s deep voice.
That sobered the mood, and they all glanced at the action.
Veer managed to lop off many of the monster’s tentacles. His red hand flashed as he pried himself from the monster’s clutches. And yet, the monster kept coming back, seemingly with innumerable tentacles to spare.
“This can’t go on for long,” said Shota. Worry hoarsened his voice.
Unfortunately, even to her eyes, she could see Veer was slowing down, his reflexes not as sharp.
“Princess?” Girish said, a question in his tone.
Chandra shook her head in answer.
“We may not have any choice soon, Princess,” he pointed out.
“Yes, but not yet,” she replied more sharply than she intended, her face hard, hiding her indecision as best as she could.
Chandra knew what Girish was asking of her. The arrows she wielded were powerful and when used in a certain way, dangerous…even catastrophic, leaving no margin for error. She didn’t dare use them lightly.
“What are you talking about?” asked a very confused Shota.
Girish regarded her for a long moment. Chandra rigidly avoided his gaze. “It seems nothing is the matter. Forgive me, I spoke out of turn,” he said gravely.
Shota looked between them suspiciously, reminding Chandra, though, for the time being they were all working together, these people didn’t completely trust her.
“What does the red glow of his hand mean?” she asked instead, as she watched Veer tear a strip of the monster, hoping to distract and deflect any questions that may come her way.
“Increased strength,” said Billadev.
“Fat lot of good that is doing him now,” said Shota. “Veer’s greatest strength has always been his ability to connect to animal minds. Without that, we are doomed. Even if by some miracle, he wins against this creature, there are others.”
The fight raged on. Veer’s clothes had disintegrated to shreds. A long row of sucker injuries lined his torso. The dominant color in the water was more red than indigo.
“We have to be prepared,” said Shota, who watched the battle with a drawn face. “Should Veer fall, we will be up next. And I fear it’s going to be a bloodbath.”
Makeshift weapons were made quickly, directed by Shota and Billadev, from the scant rocks and whatever weaponry they had on hand. Spears and arrows were stockpiled.
Chandra unslung the bow and arrows from her back and scanned the cavern, seeking higher ground where she could shoot unimpeded. She became aware of Billadev staring at her sideways.
“What?” she asked.
Billadev didn’t even pretend he had been staring.
Unlike Shota, he was direct. “Look, Princess, I don’t care what animosity you have toward Veer, but you guys are in this together and we all need to have one another’s backs.
Had Veer been in your place, he wouldn’t have hesitated like you are doing.
I beg you to put aside your animosity and help him any way you can. ”
It seemed like he had listened to and gotten the gist of the “non-conversation” she had with Girish. His level of insight made her revise her opinion of him as just a happy-go-lucky young man.
“I don’t consider my husband an enemy, Billadev. Believe it or not, I do care what happens to him. But certain decisions are not to be made lightly. Nor does it help that my powers come from the same goddess whose statue he just tried to disfigure.”
“Veer didn’t mean to—”
“Oh yes, he did. I know exactly what he had intended. I’ve known him even longer than you have. And this isn’t the first time he has shown gross disrespect to what others consider sacred.”
* * *
Veer was lifted high by one of the tentacles wrapped around his waist. He frantically hacked away at it, but before he could do much damage, he was slammed against one of the rocks. The crash jarred his hand, and his sword slipped into the waters.
As if sensing an advantage, the monster renewed its attack, tossing Veer to and fro as he struggled to free himself from its tenacious hold.
His hand glowed red. An unearthly wail resounded as Veer tore off the tentacle with his bare hands. The monster reeled in pain. Veer dropped with a splash into the ocean and didn’t surface.
“Veer!” Shota’s shout was echoed by many people on the shore. Everyone understood there was nothing now standing between them and the monster.
Spears were launched into the air, but the monster, though heavily bleeding, moved toward them, its malevolent focus on the knot of people, standing on the lone rock cut off from escape.
The sound of slithering tentacles alerted Shota that the monsters overhead were also on the move.
“Princess, we need to risk it and make a run for the entrance with the boat. The rest of us can stay here and engage the monsters as long as…” he trailed off, realizing she was no longer standing there.
“Where is she?” he shouted, swiveling around, searching for her in the group of men.
Billadev tapped his shoulder and pointed.
The princess was perched on the highest point of rock on the tiny island, kneeling, her bow-string pulled taut and aimed with an arrow. High as she was, she was directly in the monster’s line of sight.
Lightning flashed again, offering brief glimpses of action.
The lurch of the monster as it noticed her, its tentacles already extended to grab its next prey.
And right behind her, dropped another of those monsters, suspended from the ceiling of the cave by one of its tentacles, its spike-shrouded mouth opening wide.
The princess had her eyes closed. She couldn’t have known of the danger near at hand.
Shota’s shout was swept away by the fierce gale. He attempted to scale the promontory himself to reach her but was stopped by Girish, who laid a heavy, restraining hand on his shoulder.
“Wait. The princess doesn’t need help. Look.”
Realizing he was too late to help anyway, Shota watched along with the rest of the people in the cave as the princess designated herself as the next target for the monster.
Maybe it was the poor visibility from the gusts of wind and water spray, but he thought she was enveloped by a faint golden glow. A vaguely familiar mark, drawn in her own blood adorned her forehead. A half moon with a U and a line bisecting both.
“That mark…” said Billadev in a bemused tone.
“It is the same mark I warned you not to duplicate,” said Girish.
“The mark of King Amarendra. A defining mark for the heirs of Amaravathi. Too powerful to be worn by just anyone. The privilege to use the gifts associated with it must be earned. Like our princess has.” His words rang with pride for his mistress.