Toads and Diamonds (32 page)

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Tana and Diribani folded their hands.

Naghali-ji loosened the reins from the tree and vaulted into the driver's seat. "Almost forgot. This is for you." She tossed a large bag off the bench.

Tana was so afraid of what might be inside that reaching for it required an effort of will. But Diribani had already stretched out her arms. Tana knew that, whatever the bag held, she couldn't let her sister take its weight alone. Together, they would endure it.

The bag yielded with the soft heft of fabric. It smelled of sandalwood and rose petals.

The goddess twitched the reins. "A couple of good-looking young men are wandering the road," she called over her shoulder. The protesting oxen pulled their burden away from the well. "Separated from their parties by bad luck or bad weather. You might want to be dressed a little better when they arrive."

Tana could no longer see her face, but the unforgettable voice was rich with amusement and tenderness. And power. Bad luck or bad weather? Maybe.

"Thank you," Tana said softly. Inside, her heart was singing. Truly, the goddess had read what Tana desired. She had no doubt that one of those lost young men rode a white horse.
Kalyan.
She would have to ask Diribani if Zahid still rode the bay.

"Tana!" Her sister tugged her to the doorway, where the lamps burned day and night in their niche. "What did you say?"

"Thank you," Tana repeated. "She gave us new dress wraps, don't you think? In the bag?" And then she heard what Diribani had heard. Silence.

She set down the bag. No snakes had slithered away from her. Frogs sang in the tank, but no toads hopped on the wet earth at

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her feet. She touched her fingers to her lips. They felt the same as always, but the miracle had gone. A tinge of regret touched her. Swelling relief replaced it.

"She took it away!" Diribani swept her empty hands wide. "We're ourselves again!"

"But different," Tana suggested.

"Better, I hope," Diribani said. "Stronger." She giggled. "Except for your hair. What will Ma Hiral say?"

" 'Why can't you be more like your sister?'" Tana suggested. A smile pulled at her mouth. "Some things will never change. I hope." She seized Diribani's hands and whirled her in a circle.

Ragged, barefoot, joyful, with the music of frogs and the beat of their own hearts for accompaniment, they danced.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE

I would like to acknowledge a great debt to Charles Perrault's story "
Les
Fées"
("The Fairies") and Morna Livingston's wonderful book
Steps to Water: The Ancient Stepwells of India,
which together supplied the premise and setting for this novel.

Astute readers will notice a resemblance between my fictional Hundred Kingdoms and the factual Mughal Empire. During that period, between 1526 and 1858, the Indian subcontinent witnessed a great flourishing of the arts. The ruling Muslim class especially loved fine textiles, paintings, jewelry, and architecture. Thanks to skilled local Hindu and foreign-born artisans who implemented the Mughal emperors' grand projects, the Taj Mahal, Shalimar Gardens, and other sites continue to delight us today. Tana and Diribani's hometown of Gurath was modeled on Surat, a lively seventeenth-century port. Fanjandibad is what the historical fortress of Golconda might have looked like, if Agra's exquisite palaces had been magically transplanted within its walls. Trader-talk was an actual phenomenon (if not exactly as described here); diamond merchants bargained with hand signals

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under a cloth so that rival traders couldn't overhear the prices being offered and accepted for the choicest gems.

While these and other details were inspired by the period, I took significant liberties with the region's geography and culture to spin my tale. The two religions, in particular, are invented. Neither the vegetarian followers of the twelve gods and goddesses nor the monotheistic, white-coated Believers represent a particular faith. However, the guiding principles of nonviolence, the equality of all souls, quiet contemplation, and selfless service to others may be found across the wide spectrum of India's religious traditions, including Jainism, Buddhism, Hinduism, Sikhism, and Islam.

For readers curious about the true-life adventures of some remarkable young women of the era, here are a few names to pursue:

Jahanara (Mughal princess and architectural patron);

Mirabai (Hindu mystic and poet);

Rani Durgavati (Rajput warrior queen);

Zeb-un-Nissa (Mughal princess and poet).

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