Nine: Vengeance of the Warrior (24 page)

‘Close your eyes and accept this gift. It will combine with your existing power.’

He leaned forward and placed the flat edge of the yantra on Tara’s forehead. ‘You have the power to influence, to strategize, to inspire. I give you the power of psychological warfare. Use it wisely.’

Tara opened her eyes and bowed.

Akash moved forward. ‘You are a free spirit—you connect with different souls so cleverly. You have the power to travel at enormous speed, through time. Be careful of your power.’

Zubin was next. ‘You have the soul of a healer, sharing your light with the world. You have the power of light. With the capacity to increase or decrease the speed of light energy, you can destroy.’

They felt a strange tingling and then a calm spread through them, from the root chakra to the crown of the skull. They felt peace. Their purpose was now clear to them. They were rewired, as if genetically changed. They were programmed to destroy the Kalingan spirit. It was their sole purpose in life.

‘You must face your foe. Be as you were—always connected. Work and dedicate your lives as you have been doing so far.’

‘But our other abilities …’ Tara’s voice trembled.

‘The other powers remain with you. These do not define you. Whatever you have learned and experienced remains as a genetic coding. Do good, spread the positive energy. Help those on the path of truth to find their destined direction.’

The monk raised his hand and they bowed. When they looked up, no one was in the cave. The door had parted.

Quietly, they exited.

29

Anita

Tejaswi was wearing a stunning designer dress that complemented her tall figure. She received admiring glances from her guests. Her eyepatch was not the usual black, but had been specially designed to match her dress. Many of the neighbouring shop owners had come to congratulate her on the formal opening of her store. Except for the one.

Anita noticed that Karl’s store next door was shut. She glanced outside and saw the red marks on the shutters. Before she could investigate, she heard Tejaswi call out to her. A crowd had gathered for the occasion. Tejaswi was confident, eloquent. She smiled easily. There was an inner light, almost like she was on a permanent high. She had a magnetic quality that made it impossible to stop gazing at her, it was as though she had a secret potion. Anita was even more intrigued than before. Tejaswi’s father was a great influence in her life. As a mark of respect, there was a small black-and-white portrait near the cash counter.

The shop was indeed a very cleverly designed space. Packets, boxes and jars were placed on shelves lined with hay, their contents were all herbal and there was some fresh produce on display. The lighting, music and temperature in the air-conditioned enclosure were just perfect. There was a hint of an orange–lemon aroma in the air.

Anita had done her best to get as many of her journalist friends to attend as she could. There was food and drink, which was enough of a hook to get them to come. After the guest of honour cut the ribbon, Tejaswi spoke of her organic farm with passion; she offered a discount for the first month and promised that she would soon expand her line of herbal products. There was an applause and the gathering broke up. Tejaswi mingled with the crowd. ‘Thank you, Anita. This is great!’ Tejaswi was glowing like she had just had a litre of her power juice. ‘This has turned out better than expected.’ The place was packed and the guests were helping themselves to the generous spread of refreshments.

Then, the oddest thing happened. Five young men entered the shop. They looked out of place, scared and confused, as if they had come to the wrong place. They noticed Tejaswi and approached her. ‘Ma’am, we are here to apologize,’ one of the shorter men said. They were not making eye contact, instead, they kept their eyes lowered as they spoke.

‘Yes, we sincerely apologize for what happened to your store. We are responsible and are willing to pay for the damages,’ another said.

Anita watched the scene in amazement. Tejaswi looked at them arrogantly. ‘Good. I’m glad you have come to your senses.’ She added in a harsh whisper, ‘Stay here.’

Anita indicated to one of her friends to roll the camera.

Tejaswi switched on the microphone. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, I would like you to meet these five young men who vandalized my shop, threatened me with knives so that I gave up this space and did worse things which I choose not to mention here. These ruffians thought that it would be easy to deride a woman. They threatened me. They thought that because I am a woman I would be weak-willed and vulnerable and too scared to take any action. They did this heinous act because of their friend, Karl, my neighbour, whose shoe store has been closed for a few days. Karl was a friend, but he was conniving. He was nice to me because he wanted to buy my property. I wasn’t interested, so he took to violence. And in that process, my father was killed. I went to the police but they didn’t help. Karl is not here today, but trust me, he will pay for his actions. These young men standing here before you have come to apologize publicly. And hard as it is for me to forgive, I have accepted their apologies.’

She handed the microphone to the men. Each one of them voiced their deepest regrets for their actions. The stunned silence was momentary before applause filled up the void. ‘Bravo!’ one of the women called out. She was the owner of a children’s clothing store across the street. The ruffians, heads hanging in shame, exited in a single file. As they made their way out, a guest, the owner of an adjacent shop, slapped one of them. Another shouted out a warning that if any vandalism occurred in the area, the boys would not be spared. It was an inspiring moment and Tejaswi basked in it.

Anita didn’t think the matter was over. Karl’s disappearance could be Tejaswi’s doing, she mused. The ruffians appeared as if they had been threatened by some other goons. Something fishy was going on. Anita followed them out into the street to speak to one of them. She caught the shorter guy before he could hail a taxi. ‘What happened back there?’ Anita asked. The man stared at her as if she was going to assault him. He was afraid, his eyes shifty, as he stared at Tejaswi’s shop.

‘Leave me alone! I have already apologized. Remove the curse. I don’t want to suffer any more.’ He continued to walk hurriedly and crossed the road, but before he could take another next step, he suddenly crumbled to the ground in pain. Anita raced to the other side. ‘What curse? What’s wrong? Are you okay?’ Anita asked, trying to help him to the side of the road. ‘Somebody call an ambulance,’ she cried. She helped the man to the sidewalk. He clutched his midriff in agony, weeping softly, mumbling about a curse.

A car stopped by the kerb. Two men exited. They were odd-looking, with greyish skin and bald heads; their eyes were hidden behind sunglasses. ‘Don’t worry, we will take care of him,’ one of them said. They literally carried him into the car.

‘Wait! Who are you?’ Anita shouted, clutching at one of them. Then she got into action. ‘You can’t take him away. He needs medical attention.’

The man towered over her, removed his shades and stared at her. Anita felt a prickly sensation on the nape of her neck. His icy gaze bored into her skull, his red pupils were nothing like what she had seen before. It made her tremble to the bones. She stumbled back, unsure of what had just happened. The men were in the car and drove away before she could react. Anita stood there, trying to make sense of it all.

She noticed Tejaswi eyeing her from her shop window. She waved to Anita to come in. Was she involved? Anita headed back to the party which she didn’t want to attend any more. ‘I gotta go … An urgent assignment,’ Anita said.

‘What happened out there?’ Tejaswi asked.

‘Nothing, really. The guy who was in here suddenly became ill, so I was trying to help him. But his friends came and took him away in a car.’

‘You shouldn’t worry so much about what goes on in the world.’

Anita was still jittery. She said goodbye and was about to exit when Tejaswi stopped her. ‘What about the Nine? Any further discoveries?’

Anita’s gut instinct warned her. She shook her head. ‘No. Nothing yet.’

Tejaswi smiled and grasped her hand. ‘Come over to my place tomorrow. Let’s chat. Evening is better for me. I have my full day covered with the shop and the farm.’

Anita didn’t want to be alone with her. ‘Actually, why don’t you come over? You can meet my Grandma. She is a sweet lady … and an excellent cook.’

Tejaswi seemed unsure. ‘Okay, why not?’

30

Akash

Akash was hot and irritated, lounging around waiting for the next set of instructions. They had returned from the Barabar Hills the day before and had been instructed to wait for Raakin. Tara’s home was functional. He was a little surprised by the lack of the feminine element in her decor. There was abstract art on her walls, the kitchen was a neat, hardly used place. The three bedrooms were sparsely furnished and tidy. Tara’s bedroom was devoid of anything personal or unique to her identity. The absence of photographs made her place seem like it was just a service apartment, not her home. Raakin arrived late that afternoon. ‘Exciting times ahead,’ he said in greeting. They were to be stationed in Tara’s home until further notice.

They shook hands. ‘You need training. Starting tomorrow, you will be taken to an address on the outskirts of the city every day. There, the three of you will be individually trained to assimilate your unique powers.’

‘Why do we need training?’ Zubin asked. ‘We didn’t need it the last time.’

‘This time we are dealing with powers that are subtle but potent negative energies. You will have to function based on your gut instinct. You need to sharpen your skills.’

‘My gut’s telling me to get some food. You got hamburgers, chips, beer on tap around these parts?’ Akash asked, circling the apartment restlessly.

‘Sure, it’s a big city,’ Tara offered.

‘Zubin, you want to come with me? Everyone is just so serious. Let’s get some drinks, hang out for a while and get over the jet lag.’

Raakin didn’t share his enthusiasm. ‘Go where you want, but we will keep tabs on you. For your own protection, we have our guys watching you.’

‘Bloody hell, this is a prison,’ Akash murmured. Then, noticing Tara’s creased brow, he added, ‘Yes, I get it, for our own protection.’

The next day, the protectors arrived. They were sharp-looking people, like agents: quiet, serious, each wearing a ear piece with a curling plastic wire that gave them away.

They piled into a car and headed out to an unknown location. The car finally stopped outside a slum-like area. They stepped out, looking around with wary eyes. ‘Follow!’ was the one-word instruction given by one of the protectors, a tall man with a mean scar across his cheek. They were guided through a network of back alleys, past open drains and dirt piled in small heaps.

‘This place is a real dump,’ Akash said, as he almost stepped into a pile of shit. ‘I thought we were special, getting the best of everything.’

‘Yes, experience life in its most organic state,’ Zubin quipped, following him as they entered yet another narrow alleyway.

Finally, they arrived at a building that looked like it would crumble with the very next spell of rain.

‘This way,’ the tall man directed them. They went up a steep flight of narrow steps. The wooden door at the top of the stairs was shut. The protector looked around quickly and knocked. It opened almost immediately and they filed inside.

Inside was a hall as big as a basketball court. From the outside it didn’t appear as spacious.

The protectors left them there without any explanation.

‘What’s going on here?’ Akash called out. ‘Hello, anybody home?’

Two people—a man and a woman—entered the room dressed in the attire of kung-fu fighters. Lithe and strong, they had oriental features. ‘Greetings from the councillors,’ the man said. ‘My name is Ali and this is Kim.’

‘Hello,’ Tara said. ‘What now?’

‘We will strengthen your instincts.’ Ali pointed at Zubin and said, ‘Your job is to get me down on the ground, flat on my back.’