Chapter 16 The Goddess Powers
Sea spray beaded on the side of Chandrasena’s face and threw droplets, sharp as needle pricks. She barely registered it.
In fact, she barely felt the cold, the wet, the throb in her hand where she had made the cut—to draw the mark on herself, or the niggling concern for her vanquished husband.
She buried everything, including the conflict she felt at what she was doing behind a mental wall, aware that for this to work, she needed her whole focus on the task at hand.
The time to panic about whether Veer was alive could come later. In the darkness behind her closed lids, she pictured exactly what she was aiming for.
“You aim with not your eye, you aim with your mind.” The voice of her teacher rang across her consciousness, serving up a timely reminder. Golden lines of a script floated across her vision, a mantra she herself had painstakingly inscribed onto each of the arrows she carried.
She opened her eyes. The monster loomed in her vision, everything else fading away before the target. The arrow in her hand vibrated with power.
“Kreem,” she whispered the bija akshara, the seed word, and let the arrow fly. The bija akshara was a source word, a powerful sound uttered at the beginning of a spell or mantra that imbued it with strength and focus.
The arrow flew with a shrill whistle, cutting sharply through the gusts of wind, unwavering in its flight.
Halfway to its intended target, golden lines appeared along the arrowhead and shaft as it enlarged to the size of a spear.
The seed word had activated the powerful spell inscribed on the arrow, waking it up from dormancy, turning the arrow into a weapon of power.
It hurtled through the air, speeding like a ray of light in the darkness of the storm and embedded itself with a sickening sound deeply into the flesh of the monster, right between its eyes.
A high-pitched scream came from the monster, succumbing to the spell on the arrow. Lines of light split the monster, tearing it into bits. It slowly crumbled into the ocean, inking it black in its death.
* * *
“What’s happening?” asked Shota, looking around as the scream continued echoing around the cave.
“The other creatures…they are dying too,” said Billadev, slowly turning in a circle.
Explosions rocked the chamber, raining bits of gore, rock, and inky blood, as the other monsters hiding in the shadows were similarly overcome, though no arrow was fired.
“I told you,” said Girish calmly. “The princess doesn’t need our help. We are safe now.”
Shota shook off his state of stupefaction and went forward, calling for men to help search for Veer.
Billadev gazed up at the promontory. Chandra was still there, standing with her head bowed, her expression blank, the bow at her side smoking slightly.
With one arrow, she had destroyed all the monsters.
He was beginning to understand why Shota gave her a respectful berth and why Veer was so fascinated by her, despite their history.
The storm calmed to desultory gusts of wind, and the water levels in the cave, if not lower than before, were at least less choppy.
Chandra climbed down from her perch and strode toward the goddess statue.
On one edge of the island, they found Veer slumped, unconscious. He was deathly pale. The search parties had found him just in the nick of time, clinging to a wet rock, fighting against the current to avoid being swept into the sea.
Shota rummaged around in his satchel and brought out an unassuming grayish-green rock and placed it on the largest of the wounds, a linear row of sucker injuries. The surrounding flesh was slightly blue gray, but at least the wounds had stopped bleeding.
As soon as he placed the rock on each wound, they closed, the skin repairing itself to leave behind scarred skin.
“What is that?” asked Girish.
“A healing stone,” answered Billadev.
“Oh. A healing talisman,” remarked Girish. “Those are very common. But I haven’t seen one work so fast.”
“This isn’t a common fake one you get at those street magicians or folk-healers. This stone is no ordinary talisman. It contains the healing energies of Princess Vireni, Veer’s sister. Because of their family affinity, Veer has always healed faster than others.”
* * *
A groan came from Veer, and he blinked his eyes open. Chandra let out her breath in a whoosh and sent a silent thanks to the goddess.
Her emotions were still locked in a deep freeze, and she only felt the echoes of relief, but the thaw was coming, and she knew she would soon be drowning in guilt.
“How are you feeling?” asked Shota, helping Veer to a sitting position.
“Like I’d reached the last level of hell and came back,” he wheezed, then stiffened. “The monster—”
“It’s all right. The monster is dead,” said Shota.
As Shota launched into an explanation, Veer’s narrowed gaze shot toward her and lingered.
Chandra waited, but he didn’t comment on her newfound powers.
“We should get out of here before more of those monsters come back,” Veer said, struggling to stand up.
“There won’t be any more of these monsters,” said Chandra. Her voice came out sonorous and otherworldly, after the recent power use. No one, except Girish, would meet her eyes.
“The arrow I used is a genocide arrow. They destroy the entire family line.”
The freeze around her emotions crumbled finally, showing itself in the form of a sob lodged in her throat. Misery welled within her.
She told herself she had no choice. But the dictates of her teachings—to respect every creature’s place in the world—wouldn’t allow her to shy away from the fact that she had, in one fell swoop, destroyed an entire family of creatures.
Guilt warred with her conviction that she had done the right thing.
It must have felt right for the creature to attack the people who had invaded its domain. As right as it had felt to her, justifying the use of her arrows, knowing their full destructive potential.
Just as Veer must have felt it was “right” to chop off the arm of a lifeless statue, if it meant saving the lives of the people he had sworn to protect.
Something glinted yellow and bright on the ground at the goddess’s feet. Chandra frowned, trying to see past her tears. Impatiently, she wiped them away and crouched to get a better look.
Her eyes widened. She picked up the object with trembling fingers and stood.
“The key piece,” exclaimed Shota as he came over to look at it. “But…how did this happen?”
The piece lay glinting innocently in the palm of her hand, warm despite the cold temperatures. Everyone gathered around in amazement and began speaking at once.
“Maybe it got dislodged in the fight somehow?”
“But nothing happened near the statue.”
“Well, who cares? It’s now in our possession. We best get out of here as quickly as possible.”
A nudge came at her elbow. Billadev held the lotus key toward her. Chandra squeezed out a few drops of blood from the prior slice she had made and smeared it onto the key piece. In her other hand, she held the lotus.
At once, the lotus blossomed with a blue light. The bloodstained key piece left her hand and floated gracefully through the air and attached itself to an empty slot in the row of petals.
Immediately, the image in the center of the raised receptacle changed.
An idol appeared, made of the same black-sheened metal.
“That is the idol of Brihadeeshwar,” said Chandra. “Likely the one at the Temple City of Brihadeeshwar.”
* * *
Chandra still had the lotus in her hand—although it had gone back to its bud state—the most recently added petal still visible by its smear of dried blood.
Billadev and Shota were organizing people, arranging transport to carry the injured up to the surface. Fortunately, the tide has receded, making the job easier.
Veer was lying still on the pallet, quietly watching her.
“You have been holding out on me,” remarked Veer. His voice was still rough but seemed to be getting better.
Chandra barely glanced at him and shrugged. She felt wrung out and exhausted, but she dreaded what came next.
“You have magic too. I watched you practice,” he spoke again.
She dragged her eyes from the lotus key. “It was you! I wondered who you had sent to spy on me.”
“Is it your bracelet that gives you power?” he asked. Something flickered in his eyes, but Chandra felt worse seeing it, loathe to call it respect when she felt so awful.
“No,” she said. “My powers come from the goddess.” Chandra glanced up at the statue. Dwindling sunlight painted the statue in deep shades of red and orange, giving her features an enigmatic slant.
“It is said that Goddess Durga granted a boon to one of the ancestors of Amaravathi. A blessing passed down for generations. Everyone born into the royal family can wear this mark,” she said, pointing to her own forehead.
“And has the potential to acquire these powers, but they need to adhere to certain, stringent practices and work on them rigorously and often.
“The repercussions when you put a foot wrong or choose to use magic for the unjust reasons are…painful.” Her eyes flicked toward him and darted away.
“That night you saw me, I was following Guruji’s orders.
Ever since I’ve mastered the goddess’s powers, he recruited me into his schemes.
It gave me a purpose to be a part of something worthwhile.
“But to answer your question, the bracelet is only a way to channel those powers,” she continued, holding up the bracelet of rudraksha beads on her forearm.
“Those who attain the highest level no longer need its presence as a requirement to use those powers. My brother, Bhupathi, can do that. But then, he has had a lot longer to practice.”
“No wonder you were so against me chopping off the goddess statue earlier,” said Veer contemplatively.
“I have never used a genocide arrow before,” she said, biting her lip, her eyes welling with tears. I’m not sure if I did the right thing, but I’ll find out this evening.”
“What does that mean, Princess?” asked Veer quietly.
“The goddess’s magic is pure,” she said, as a tear trickled down her cheek. “When it is used for an unethical thing, you experience the pain of the wronged party.”