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
