Forest of Demons (12 page)

Priya sipped from the bowl, sighing with pleasure as the fragrant liquid slipped down her throat, leaving a trail of delicious heat in its wake.

The ache in her stomach dissipated as she filled it with food. As soon as she was finished she donned her coat once more and slipped on her boots, still damp from the morning.

“Be quick, beti, the temperature will drop sharply soon,” Ma warned.

Papa frowned at his leg in annoyance. His face was tight with pain. Priya felt a pang of anger. The Vithyan had been extremely unhelpful when she had approached him for a pain sachet. Unable to retaliate against the panchayat for banning forest interaction, he chose instead to vent his frustration on Papa, because now he would have to procure his herbs and roots from the neighboring village at a much higher cost.

She knew he had the pain remedy, could tell by the shift of his eyes, yet he claimed he had none.

Priya held on to her irritation, using its heat to sustain her while she checked on the cows and hens. Locked up tight in their specially constructed barn and coup, with enough hay to keep them warm, they would survive the winter. She scattered some chicken feed and filled the cow’s troughs, then after bolting the doors of the coup and the barn, she turned to make her way back inside.

“Help me, please.”

Priya spun around, surprised by the appearance of two strangers. Priya’s hut was at the southern edge of the village with nothing but open land and woods beyond the borders. Where could they have come from?

She took a step back, assessing their appearance.

One man was young, maybe a few years older than her, and the other was older—younger than Papa but not by much. They both had light skin, caramel eyes, and brown hair. The younger man was supporting the older one. She noted their threadbare clothes were hardly fit for the frost.

“Please. Can you give us sanctuary?”

“Who are you?” Priya asked.

The younger man licked his cracked lips. “I’m Mittel, and this is my uncle, Vinay. We come from across the mountain, from Machli.”

“The ocean town? That’s impossible.”

“Anything is possible with the devil on your tail. Please, you have to help us. My uncle needs medical attention, and I must speak to your village council immediately.”

Vinay’s eyes rolled back in his head. He sagged, almost taking Mittel with him. Priya rushed forward to help, slipping her arm around the older man. Together they managed to get him to the hut door.

“What is this? Who are these people? Oh, my God!” Ma rushed forward to help. Together they managed to get Vinay into Priya’s room and onto her bed. His body was hot with fever, and he was babbling.

Papa hobbled over, leaning against the wall for balance.

Ma wrung her hands in agitation. “Priya, who are these people? What’s wrong with him? Does he have a sickness? Please tell me you didn’t bring sickness into our home?”

Priya turned to Mittel. “What’s wrong with him?”

Mittel swallowed and reached down to gingerly peel back Vinay’s coat.

Priya covered her mouth in horror. The tunic underneath was torn, exposing a six-inch-long, festering wound. The color of the skin and the puffiness told her that infection was present but that it was not what had caused the wound.

“Who did this?”

Mittel shook his head, his eyes filling with tears. “I’m not sure. They came from the sea on the backs of huge beasts. They took our shores, cutting a swath of slaughter through the town. They slaughtered the men; they slaughtered the children. They slaughtered the women too, but they raped them first. The elderly were burned. I managed to get most of my family out, but the mountain . . . it is a force to be reckoned with, only the two of us survived.”

“You must alert the council!” Papa said.

“We need the Vithyan,” Ma added.

Priya nodded, moving quickly toward the door.

“Wait, I’ll come with you,” Mittel said.

“No. Stay here, you’ll only slow me down.” Priya didn’t wait for his response, but ducked her head and stepped into the dangerous chill of the red sun.

She ran as fast as she could, her boots cracking through the fresh layer of ice that had formed over the snow. She stumbled more than once but managed to right herself and continue.

By the time she reached the market her movements were uncoordinated, she couldn’t feel her hands or her feet. The vythian’s home was just a few more minutes away. She had to keep moving.

She fell to her knees.

Ice water seeped into the fabric at her kneecaps, up her thighs and down her legs.

Red sun was bad. People stayed indoors during red sun. Her clothes weren’t equipped to keep out the chill.

She had to get up.

“Priya!”

Ravi?

“Priya, what are you doing?” He cursed colorfully.

She felt his hands under her armpits. She was on her feet for a brief moment before he swung her into his arms.

She curled into him, greedy for the heat he was throwing, but it was nothing compared to the bone-melting warmth of the smithy.

He placed her by the forge and pulled off her boots, then began to briskly rub her feet. She stared at the top of his head while he worked. It felt nice—comfortable, like home.

“What are you doing out at this time?” Ravi asked, taking her hand and rubbing it between his.

Priya frowned, her thoughts sluggish. She had to do something important, something . . . oh, God’s! She pulled her hands from his. “I have to go! I have to get the vythian and alert the council!”

“What are you talking about?”

“Two men, one injured. They came from the ocean town. They say that something’s coming, something bad from the ocean.”

“But what were you thinking, setting out during red sun?”

“I-I wasn’t . . . thinking.”

Ravi stood. “You stay here. I’ll go.”

“No! You said yourself, it’s deadly out there.”

“I’ll be fine. My body runs warmer than most, and I have better winter clothes than you.”

Priya nodded. “Thank you.”

Ravi retreated into the room at the back of the smithy. He returned, clad in his winter clothes. He looked like a huge bear, and Priya stifled a giggle.

He wagged his glove-clad finger in her direction before stomping out of the smithy.

There was nothing to do but wait and hope that the vythian and the council took Ravi’s message seriously.

The village hall was packed full of villagers eager to have their say on the strangers’ shocking message. Children old enough to entertain themselves had been left outside to play in the snow, oblivious to the looming threat. Red sun was a couple hours away, which gave them plenty of time to discuss action.

Vinay was still recovering from his injuries, but Mittel was present, seated at the front of the crowd; a better vantage point from which to address the panchayat.

The panchayat, comprised of a group of five elderly, well-respected males, sat on mats arranged in a semicircle on a raised platform.

The munsiff sat to one side, not part of the panchayat but able to act as conductor of the proceedings.

Priya stood at the back of the crowd, her body pressed to the wall. She couldn’t believe that things had escalated this far; surely the choice was obvious, bearing in mind the facts presented. The whole village needed to pack up and leave. They could move to Dakha, and from there a messenger could be sent to the Capital to alert the king of these strange invaders to their shores.

The villagers, however, were not so keen. They’d lived with the threat of rakshasa, chudails, and all manner of horrors for so long and survived that the thought of invaders seemed too distant, too improbable, for their tiny minds to comprehend. They were complacent in their belief that God would protect them.

Ma and Papa were seated in the middle of the crowd. Papa had been determined to attend, despite his pain.

“God drove back the rakshasas!” someone shouted. “God will protect us from these invaders if they come!”

“How do we know what these strangers say is true? They may just wish us to abandon our homes in haste so they can steal what we leave behind!” another pointed out.

“So they deliberately injure themselves and allow infection to set in? Don’t be ridiculous!” Papa argued.

The man who’d spoken ignored him and continued. “We’ve lived in peace for decades. We’ve ploughed our land and nurtured our cattle. This is our home, and we will not run on a flimsy threat. This stranger’s story sounds fantastical indeed; strange beasts that ride upon the waves—what nonsense!”

The spokesperson of the panchayat raised his hand. “We must consider the possibility that this man is speaking the truth. We must consider that he may have lost his town, his loved ones, and we must consider that the same may happen here if we don’t take action.”

The crowd erupted into a cacophony of voices.

Priya gnawed on her bottom lip. Papa’s words came to mind. Something was coming. If only she’d agreed to leave before the winter. Now it would be impossible to get further than Dakha before the red sun hit. The capital would be a two days’ journey. They were stuck, and most of the villagers knew it; hence their reluctance to even try.

Mittel was on his feet. “Please, I know I’m a stranger to you, but this soil under my feet is my home too. We share this land, and I would not lie to you. I have lost everything—my wife, my children, my mother and father. I have little left to live for. My only motivation was to warn others like me. We must get word to the capital. Save yourselves before it’s too late!”

Countless murmurs rose in response to his words.

The munsiff cleared his throat. “The panchayat will now vote.” He turned to the five elderly men. “All those in favor of action?”

The spokesman was the only one to raise a hand.

It was over.

“The panchayat has voted. The village stays,” the munsiff declared.

The villagers began to rise, eager to return to the confines of their homes.

A cry of alarm from outside caught her attention. Priya pushed off the wall, moving to the entrance to investigate.

“Monsters!” A little girl shouted.

“Ma!” An older boy gathered the little girl into his arms and ran toward the village hall. Priya looked beyond, seeing what they were seeing. Her blood froze.

It was a horde of huge monsters with shaggy hair, long black batons, and shiny swords.

She rushed forward, screaming at the children to get inside. Villagers rushed out, summoned by the panic in her cries, and upon seeing what was descending on them, erupted into a frenzy of action.

Some ran, some retreated back into the hall, others stood frozen, too afraid to act or simply accepting their doom.

Priya ran toward the threat, gathering up the smallest of the children, one on her back and one under each arm. She ran, not toward the hall but to the temple. There was an underground vault there; Guru had shown her once. Pujariji kept all the idol jewels and fine silks in the vault. The children would be safe there under the protection of the gods.

Behind them the army advanced, steadily and methodically, as if they had all day.

Priya screamed orders to the villagers to gather the children, to follow her. But only a few listened. She gave up and ran, taking the small lives she had in her hands and those that would follow to the only safety she knew. She made it to the temple and into the vault below. Leaving the children in the hands of the gods, she went back, intent on saving her parents.

“Priya! We have to get out of here now!” Ravi appeared beside her, reaching for her hand, but she evaded him.

“I have to get my parents.”

“NO!” He tried to stop her, but she slipped by him and ran toward the village hall. She could hear his feet crunching the earth behind her, but she was faster. She reached the tree line by the hall and skidded to a halt, Ravi’s breath hot on the nape of her neck.

“It’s too late. We need to go now!”

Priya stared at the crimson snow, at the bodies as they fell when cut down. She listened to the screams of violation emanating from the village hall.

A bonfire had been lit, and Priya watched in shock as they dragged people from the hall—the panchayat spokesman, the barber, and behind them, Ma and Papa. Priya opened her mouth to cry out, but Ravi clamped a hand over it. She struggled against him as he dragged her back into the cover of the trees. Her eyes burned with impotent rage as she watched them fling the spokesperson and then the barber into the flames, their screams of pain cut short as the hungry flames devoured their tongues. They reached for Ma next, who clung to Papa. They tried to pry them apart, but they would not be parted. One of the monsters lifted them both in to the air.

Please, please no. Priya closed her eyes, aware of what was coming but not wanting to bear witness.

The screams were heart-rending and all too brief.

“I’m sorry, so sorry,” Ravi whispered in her ear.

Wasted time, she had wasted time when she could have saved them all. Why hadn’t she thought sooner? She could have . . .

She grabbed his hand, ripping it from her mouth she threw back her head and she began to sing.

Ravi fell back in horror as the village stilled, every monster stopped and turned to look in their direction. But she continued to sing, her heart breaking, her pain rising like a phoenix of rage. Tears slid down her cheeks unchecked as the melody rode the wind.

The monsters broke from their stunned paralysis and began to advance.

“Priya? It’s not working. They’re not coming.” Ravi gripped her elbow.

Priya shook him off. They would come, because she needed them. Her monsters would come, and they would tear these new monsters to shreds.

A howl ripped through the air and Priya’s heart soared. They were here.

The rakshasas descended on the ocean monsters with graceful force, ripping and tearing, and the invaders, stunned by this new development, fell under their talons. One lost its hideous face. It rolled across the snow. Priya looked into the monster’s real face; eyes more blue than the sky, a face of beauty beyond comprehension.