Forest of Demons (32 page)

“And you think these people should be grateful for that?” Priya asked.

“No, I don’t, but he tried to make it as comfortable as possible.” He sighed. “A prison, no matter how elaborate, is still a prison. These people have done nothing wrong except choose to live in the capital.”

They passed through the market and into a narrow street. The ground must have been neatly cobbled once, but was chipped and ragged now. They followed Chandra down the street, the heat of several pairs of curious eyes burning holes in their backs.

Chandra painted a dismal picture of inevitability. He acted as if there were no solution, no hope.

“What about you? You’re a prince, one day
you
will be king. The king is clearly mad, so why can’t you take the throne now? You could free these people.”

They’d come to a stop outside a small hut. It was painted bright yellow with red edging. It brought a smile to Priya’s lips to see such a bold splash of color in such a dreary place.

So it wasn’t until Chandra had knocked on the door that she realized he’d ignored her question.

A woman answered the door, her lips turning up in a delighted smile upon seeing Chandra. Her gaze flicked passed him to skim over Priya before dismissing her and moving to settle on Ravi. Her dark slanted eyes widened and welled with tears, and then she was flying toward them, knocking Priya aside as she lunged at Ravi, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Priya stared at the scene in shock and confusion. Ravi’s eyes locked with hers over the woman’s head, then his arms came up to return the woman’s embrace. His fiery eyes closed, shutting Priya out as he inhaled the woman’s scent.

Priya turned away, her heart sinking into her hollow stomach.

“Deepa, who is it?” A rumbling voice called from within.

A man, whom she assumed to be Amit, appeared in the doorway, his broad forehead crinkled in a frown. His silver hair was cropped short, but any illusion of age was dispelled by his sharp amber eyes, eyes that she had seen a hundred times before.

She turned to Ravi, who had broken away from the woman. His attention was now on the man. The look of joy on his face was all she needed to confirm her assessment.

Ravi took a step toward Amit. “Father.”

“No! You can’t be here. Ravi, why are you here!” Amit reached for Ravi, bringing his hands heavily down on his shoulders.

Ravi gripped his father’s upper arms. They remained locked like this for a long moment, and then Amit pulled Ravi into a tight embrace.

“Come, we don’t have much time,” Chandra urged. “Grab what essential items you may need and follow me. Heavy coats would be a fine idea.”

“What’s going on?” Deepa asked.

Chandra smiled cockily. “I would have thought it was obvious. We’re getting you out of here.”

Priya’s Ma had once told her a story of a man claiming to be a snake charmer. He would travel from village to village, ridding them of their snakes. He would play his
pungi
as he walked through the village, and all the snakes, entranced by the music created by the wind instrument, would slither from their nooks and crannies and follow him. He would lead them far away, freeing the villagers of the pests.

She felt like that snake charmer now, except her pungi was the key to the exit. As they approached the door, the number of people following them grew.

“Will they try to stop us? Will they try to escape?” Priya asked.

“I’m not sure. No one has ever left before,” Chandra said. “In truth, I hadn’t thought this far.” He sounded uneasy, and it frightened Priya. She glanced over her shoulder, locking eyes with the prisoners. So many eyes—curious, desperate, and pleading. She turned away, unable to bear it, and caught Amit watching her.

“They will not follow,” Amit said.

“How can you be so sure?” Deepa asked.

Amit broke eye contact with Priya. “Because they have nowhere else to go. They have no hope.”

Despite the wisdom of his words, Priya couldn’t help but shiver in anticipation of the attack she was certain would come. As they stood huddled around the only exit to this elaborate prison, their backs to the crowd, her scalp prickled with unease, and her palms became slick with sweat.

The click of the lock sounded too loud, almost taunting, but then Chandra was ushering her up the steps. The door slammed shut behind them, and the lock turned for the final time.

Her eyes filled with tears as ashen faces swam through her mind. She vowed she would be back. She would find a way to free these people.

At the top of the steps they encountered their first obstacle.

The guards were back on duty.

Chandra leaned against the metal door, having quickly slammed it shut.

“They’re back early.” He gnawed on his bottom lip, then shook his head. “We’re stuck until they go for their evening meal, which will be another four hours.”

“Not necessarily.” Amit leaned over Chandra, his craggy face breaking into an evil grin.

Chandra looked momentarily alarmed, and then his eyes lit up. “Damn you, Amit, you are a genius.”

Deepa rolled her eyes. “It’s like not a day has passed.”

Chandra cocked a brow in her direction. “Jealous?”

Deepa shrugged her slender shoulder. “Hardly.” She smiled coyly up at Ravi, who kept his gaze fixed on the door.

Everyone seemed to have a history. Priya didn’t mind, really, except when it came to Ravi and this . . . Deepa woman. When it came to those two, she minded, she minded a lot.

Amit was chanting low under his breath, and then a tingle ran over her skin. She rubbed her arms and then hissed as the tingle turned into tiny pinpricks.

Ravi took her hand, pulling her round to face him. He leaned in close so their faces were mere inches apart. “Look at me, Priya. It’s all right. Whatever you do, don’t scream.”

“What—” Her breath was snatched away by the sudden pain. Her limbs were on fire as if a thousand ants were stinging her. She clamped her mouth shut. Her eyes fixed on Ravi widened in horror as his visage began to shift and blur. When it cleared he was no longer Ravi but some stranger in a guard’s uniform.

Deepa, Chandra, and Amit too had been changed. She held up her hand and saw someone else’s large hairy one.

The new Amit grinned. “Let’s go.”

They stepped out of the secret passage to screams and shouts of alarm. The guards that had been stationed in the dungeons were gone.

Something was wrong. Something had pulled the guards away from their posts, and Priya’s gut clenched in apprehension.

Amit, tight-lipped and steel-jawed, motioned them to stay back, and then crept up to the main dungeon doors. He peered out, pulled back and rushed toward them. “Quick, link hands and do not let go. Hurry!”

His alarm was a palpable force, pressing down on Priya, and she grabbed onto Chandra’s hand, allowing Ravi to take her free one. The tingling raced across her body again, and this time when she looked down at her hand there was nothing there but air.

“Do not let go of each other,” Amit hissed. “Do not bump into anyone.”

The dungeon door was flung open and a huge figure strode in, his face that of a horrific beast. Priya pressed her lips together to hold back her cry of alarm. This couldn’t be happening. It was too soon, they couldn’t be here already.

But they were. The invaders were here. They were in the capital.

Chandra’s grip on her hand tightened as the warrior strode toward them. Surely he would know, surely he would see past the illusion Amit had cast, but the warrior stopped at the first cell door and peered inside. He nodded and then proceeded down the hall, stopping at the next cell and peering in.

She felt a tug on her right hand.

Chandra.

Then she was being led quickly toward the open door and out of the dungeon.

They were everywhere. Their footsteps stained with blood, the evidence of their destruction draped across balustrades and strewn across floors.

Tears blinded her. The horror reminded her of her home, her family, of her people. How many more bodies, how many more deaths? Amit led them silently, swiftly—a chain of ghosts winding between the warriors as they stabbed and hacked.

Chandra squeezed Priya’s hand so tight she had to bite down to stop from squealing in pain. She wanted to ask him to ease his grip, but speech was not an option. They may be invisible to the invaders, but their voices would not be inaudible.

They passed through the great hall, and where only a night ago there had been revellers and laughter, albeit faked; there was now only blood, gore, and the eternal silence of death.

The sun stung her eyes as she stepped outside, and the smell of smoke and fire burned her nostrils. From their vantage point on the hill they could see the capital below swimming in a haze of reds and oranges.

A city on fire.

“I have to go back. I have to . . .” Chandra said. He tugged on her hand.

Oh, gods the queen! The Undercity! All those people . . .“We have to go back!” Priya agreed.

They continued to move forward however, inextricably linked in their desire to survive.

“We can’t go back,” Amit said.

“I have to save my mother!” Chandra said again.

“The queen is no fool. She will have found a way out. There are a million secret passages in the palace, many of which are by her design.”

“Or she could be in trouble, she could need me. Please, Amit, we have to try.”

His statement was followed by a delicate snort of derision, one Priya identified as Deepa’s.

“I’m sorry, we can’t go back. There’s too much at stake,” Ravi said. “The invaders have the capital, and soon they’ll have the isle. We need to find The Fist; we need to get help. If we die here, now, then it’s over. The isle, all our people, they’re doomed.”

Priya could feel Chandra’s grip on her hand like a vice, squeezing and squeezing, and this time she couldn’t help herself she cried out. “Stop! Please.”

Silence filled the air, and Priya’s mind raced. She’d been unsuccessful in saving her village, her family . . . what was one girl against an army, what were four people against an army? They had to walk away, to save themselves. It was the only way they would be able to return with an army of their own, for there was no doubt in her mind that The Fist would help them.

“We have to go. We have to go, so we can return with help.”

“And what about all the people trapped underground? Hundreds of citizens—” Chandra said.

“They’ll be safe, because they’re locked away with no key for the invaders to gain access to their home. They’ve killed, but it serves no purpose for them to kill everyone. They’ll require citizens to work for them once they’ve established their rule on the isle. There’s still time.”

After a long moment Chandra’s grip on her hand relaxed and Priya exhaled in mixed relief.

Their human chain began to move once more, down toward the market, down into the chaos of screams and death.

Priya resisted the urge to close her eyes. She kept them wide open, unblinking; she took it all in. These were the images that would fuel her determination with rage. These were the images that would haunt her until she returned to avenge the souls that had lent their bodies to the scene.

She took these images with her as they slipped through the gates just before they closed with a thud, and she allowed them to flicker through her mind as she stood, hidden by the tree line, and watched the new invader guard take its lookout post.

A question she’d thought to have buried surfaced in her mind like a worm breaking soil on a wet day. Why hadn’t she left the village with Ma and Papa when she’d had the chance? The answer was a pulse of fear, the foundation upon which her claims of independence and ambition had been built. Fear of failure, fear of being alone. There had always been a choice, the perfect excuse, Ma and Papa, her reason to stop, to stay, to stifle her dreams. When in reality, they would have let her go, they would have come with her. But now they were gone, dead because she had been too afraid to act. And once again she was presented with a blatant choice. The only difference was that this time there was nothing and no one to hide behind. No excuses. She could run and hide. The north was a wilderness in which she could lose herself. The invaders would build a new empire, and she would be safe. She could run, but she would be a coward.

The capital was lost to them, but the isle was not. She had come to deliver a message, one that would have shifted responsibility from her shoulders, but that message had not been received. There
was
no one else. This group of men and women beside her . . . this was it. The time to play safe was gone. The time to dream was gone. It was time for action, to take responsibility. Fear was a fist around her heart, tight and uncomfortable, a band around her chest, making it difficult to breath.

Ravi released her hand, leaving her aching for his touch.

“You ready?” he asked.

She turned to him, watching him shimmer into being as the illusion dissipated, and made her decision.

“I’m ready.”

Surya

The Sun.

Matka

A metal or clay vessel for carrying water.

Chapati

A traditional Indian flatbread.

Rakshasa

Demon

Villie

The village herb and root gatherer.

Beti

Daughter

Zameendar

Landowner

Vythian

Doctor

Munsiff

Major

Pujaru

Priest

Pari

Angel

Chai

Tea

Sabji

A
spicy vegetable stew.

Dhal

A lentil based soup.

Panisira

A general village servant.

Chudail

A witch intent on revenge

Mela

A mobile fairground

Panchayat