Sal, peepul, and shisham trees formed a green, leafy umbrella through which the late-evening sun filtered. Tara’s eyes scanned the forest, searching for a place to spend the night.
The weakening light and increasing cacophony heralded the approach of night. The gloom deepened and an occasional star peeped between the leaves. Tara’s pulse raced. What if they had to spend the night out in the open? What if they were attacked by a wild animal? What if ...? Scary thoughts ran unchecked through her head. Her grip on Suraj tightened.
Suddenly, night was upon them. All around, the forest was starting to wake up, one lazy hoot and catcall at a time. Tara gripped Suraj’s hand tighter. Hers was slippery with sweat. The total darkness was like a thick, black cloud that enveloped them completely. Even the stars had disappeared.
Sounds of shuffling, snorting, and howling surrounded them as jackals, hyenas, neelgai, and leopards woke up for a night of hunting. Tara and Suraj plodded on. Roots tripped them so that on more than one occasion they sprawled headlong into the undergrowth. Neither said a word as they stumbled forward in the darkness.
“Didi, why don’t you light the lantern?”
“No! We’ll only attract wild animals. It is better to remain under the cover of darkness and hope for the best.”
They stumbled a few more feet when suddenly Tara saw something that made her heart leap. She squeezed Suraj’s hand and he returned the squeeze. He had seen it, too: a small glow in the distance; probably some friendly villagers? They scrambled toward the light as quickly as they could.
“Be very quiet till I see who it is,” said Tara as they drew nearer.
Their steps slowed as the light became stronger. A small fire burnt brightly in a clearing. A tall, powerfully built man in a black robe paced near the fire. He walked a few steps. Stopped. Listened. Then he started pacing again.
Tara and Suraj crept closer, crouched in the bushes at the foot of a tall sal tree, and peered through the branches. They could not see the man’s face but the moment he muttered to himself, Tara knew.
“Late again,” the man spoke quietly to himself. “I’ll punish them for keeping me waiting.”
The shuffling of many feet made him prick up his ears. Tara and Suraj huddled closer.
The tall man had stopped pacing and positioned himself such that the light fell on his stern face and made him look even more forbidding. He was facing Tara so that she finally got a clear look at his face. Suraj whimpered and Tara clamped a hand on his mouth. Her skin was tingling and covered with goose bumps. Zarku!
In the flickering light of the fire, the third eye on his forehead throbbed with a life of its own as if impatient to open and wreak havoc on whoever displeased him. He crossed his arms and waited.
A band of men shuffled into the clearing. The light reflected off their green bodies. Their skin was almost translucent. In their chests their hearts inflated and deflated in a steady rhythm. A criss-cross of blood-engorged veins ran up and down their bodies. Each man in the group had an ugly scar on his forehead. Tara shuddered.
Suraj closed his eyes and buried his face in Tara’s shoulder. Tara was mesmerized with the horror of seeing so many of these creatures all at once. So these were the Vetalas.
The leader of the pack came forward. Sweat ran down his gaunt face, which was framed by filthy, matted hair. He saw the expression on Zarku’s face and fell to his knees, quivering. He grunted pitifully and bowed several times.
“How many more men did you capture from the village of Pinjaur, Jeevan?”
Jeevan shook his head.
“None? Explain yourself.”
The words hung in the air, like arrows stopped in mid flight.
Tara was stunned. Capture? Capture? That meant these creatures were actually villagers? Remnants of her undigested meal climbed in her throat. Tara swallowed hard.
With sign language and grunts Jeevan managed to signify that the village they had raided that night had sentries and dogs at the gate.
“Did you kill the dogs?”
Jeevan looked up in confusion. It was obvious this had not occurred to him. He looked around at his companions, who refused to meet his eyes as they hung their heads in shame. He took a deep breath and shook his head.
“Fool,” roared Zarku. “You should have killed the dogs before leaving. Pinjaur’s Panchayat will have more dogs and guards tomorrow night. How difficult is it to capture one villager at a time and make him one of us? Could you not get one single person from anywhere? Kalka? Saha? Sadhupur?”
Jeevan writhed on the ground in misery. The rest of his people stood behind him in absolute silence, not daring to look up. A cold smile spread across Zarku’s face as he caressed his own bald head lovingly.
“You have failed me,” he said in a soft voice laden with menace. “And so, you must be punished.”
Jeevan stood up and edged backward.
“How sad that you are called Jeevan, meaning ‘Life.’ Your name is about to change to Mrityu ... ‘Death.’”
Zarku’s eye pulsed ominously, red light seeping out from the edges. The eyelid opened a tiny bit at a time and a red-hot ray bathed Jeevan, a pinpoint at first and then steadily growing into a powerful beam.
Jeevan grunted and sobbed, trying to edge away from the scorching red beam that grew in intensity with every passing second. Ugly red blisters pockmarked his body and became larger as one ran into the other and his skin melted into a river of green slime. His hair and flesh sizzled, giving off the most nauseating smell of rotten eggs and feces. His heart swelled and burst within his chest. Zarku’s third eye was now fully open and the leader of the Vetalas was ablaze. He howled in agony and, within seconds, crumbled into a mound of ash. The rest of the Vetalas looked aghast.
“You,” Zarku said, pointing to another large Vetala. “Come here.”
The large man shuffled forward, not daring to look Zarku in the eye.
“You will now lead the rest. Tomorrow you will come to Morni. Meet me near the old well at midnight and I will tell you which men I want captured. They are the strong ones, likely to oppose me. Once they are gone, the weak ones can be overpowered in one night! Fail me and you will join your friend here,” said Zarku, his eyes resting upon the heap of ashes.
“GO!” he called out as he strode away and disappeared into the darkness.
Tara’s face was wet with tears.
“Suraj, they’ve gone.”
Suraj, who had refused to look at the gruesome scene, lifted his head from Tara’s shoulder. His face was streaked with tears, too.
“Time’s running out, Didi, isn’t it?”
CHAPTER 8 A LONG AND TERRIBLE NIGHT
“CRACK!” A huge sound reverberated overhead as if the sky had broken into two.
Oh
