The Deadly Conch (8 page)

Stop being silly
, said the small voice within her.
Go talk
to Ananth. That's why you're out here, anyway, right?
She had come to trust that voice now. And that was exactly what she was going to do. But where was Ananth? In the kitchen getting a drink of water? Out with friends? There was only one way to find out.

Tara kept to the deep shadows as she padded toward the back of the hut. Nothing stirred, no one spoke. More clouds sailed overhead, devouring the patches of moonlight on the ground. The darkness intensified momentarily.

Tara rounded the side of the hut and heard whispers. She stopped immediately and dropped to her knees, listening hard. A boy and girl were talking.

“It's late and you should not be here,” he said softly.

That was definitely Ananth. Tara leaned closer. Whom was he talking to in the middle of the night? A secret love? The thought almost made her giggle out loud as she tried to imagine Ananth with a girlfriend. What a time she would have teasing him about it tomorrow.

“I thought you should know,” said the girl. “You're her brother.”

Tara clamped her hand over her mouth to suppress the involuntary gasp. The world spun around her. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing it to stay still.

It was Layla. She had gotten to Ananth, too. Lord knew what poison she was filling his head with. Tara tried to soften her laboured breathing and strained to hear Ananth's reply.
Don't believe her, Ananth
, Tara prayed silently.
Don't you dare believe a word she says about me.

“Now I know, so I'll be going,” said Ananth.

“Good night.”

Tara heard footsteps. The back door closed softly and then there was silence. She continued sitting, paralyzed by what she had just seen and heard. What had Layla told Ananth about her?

Layla giggled. The giggle turned into soft laughter. Tara's insides burned as if she had swallowed a handful of fire. She got to her feet and crept closer. Layla was hurrying away, still chuckling to herself. A deep hatred flooded Tara, dousing the flames within.

“Stop right there!” said Tara.

Layla stopped and turned around slowly. Tara hurried up to her. In the moonlight, Layla's face looked like white marble except for eyes that were blacker than night and reminded Tara of deep, dark wells and endless tunnels.

“What're you doing here?” said Tara. Her voice was cold and stern — she hoped.

“What are
you
doing here?” said Layla.

“I heard you tell Ananth he should know something about me. What did you tell him?”

Layla stared at Tara, her face expressionless.

“Answer me, Layla, or I'll thrash you.”

Layla smiled. Goosebumps rose on Tara's arms and she resisted the urge to back away.

“Just you try it, Tara. I'll cry so loudly and act so pitiful that the Panchayat will throw you out of Morni tonight. You're not very popular at the moment, so you better watch how you treat me.”

Layla spoke quietly and with such confidence that Tara felt her own resolve shatter like a sheet of glass under a shower of hailstones. Tara stared at Layla, whom she had always despised and mostly ignored. But she couldn't ignore her now. She had to keep this snake close and observe her every move. Tara forced herself to look into her stepsister's eyes. Could Kali really be guiding her or was Layla's deep-rooted hatred showing itself now? Would a softer approach work with her?

“Layla, please!” said Tara. She took a step forward, though every muscle and every nerve recoiled at the thought. She cupped Layla's face with her hands. “Look, I didn't hurt your mother deliberately. She came after me. I had no choice. I was going to bring her back to Morni,
to you
. She didn't have a very easy time with Zarku. He was treating her very badly. In fact, she looked very relieved when it seemed that he was gone forever.”

Layla stood listening intently, not moving away, but not saying a word, either. That was good; maybe this was the way to win her over: with kindness instead of threats.

“Tell me more,” whispered Layla. “Tell me everything.”

Tara forced herself to hold Layla's hand as they walked to the edge of the courtyard. They sat on the low mud wall and Tara continued with the story, skillfully weaving together facts and embellishments.

“We were all recovering from the tornado that had whipped through the cave after Zarku collapsed. Kali was trying to help me, but then … then we both realized that Zarku had not really died. He had possessed her instead. You know what that means, don't you Layla?”

“Tell me,” said Layla, calmly. Helplessness swept through Tara. How could this child be so emotionless hearing about her mother's last few minutes on earth? The moonlight shining on her cold eyes revealed no sadness, no regret, nothing.

“That means Zarku was controlling your mother, the same way he did with Suraj. And the first thing he made her do was to rush right at me. To kill me.”

Tara took a deep shuddering breath as she recalled those moments. The crushing weight of darkness, the deep chasm belching hot fumes, Kali running at her, the hyena snapping at her ankles, and the unshakable fear that it was the end.

“I had no choice,” said Tara. “No choice at all.”

“There is always a choice, Tara. You could have let my mother live. I didn't like your
story
one little bit. I'm going home.” Layla stood up and brushed mud off her large backside.

“Is there nothing I can do to make up for it?” said Tara with great effort.

Layla was silent for a moment. The chirrup of lizards and the mournful howl of a stray dog were the only sounds that broke the silence of the night. “There is one thing you can do.”

“What?” asked Tara, her heart thumping. Maybe Layla's animosity would stop if she co-operated a bit. And life would return to normal, for her and all of Morni.

“I'll ask Rakaji to call a meeting tomorrow,” said Layla. “If you can say you're sorry for having killed my mother in front of the entire village and leave Morni forever, I'll stop. My mother had to go through this humiliation and so must you.”

Tara jumped to her feet. Layla was playing with her. The same sort of game Zarku had played. It was now clear that she had no intention of stopping. Not until she had driven Tara out of her own home and destroyed her family.

“Is this
your
idea or your mother's?” Tara said. She wanted to grab Layla's neck and shake her hard.

“What does it matter? We both want the same thing — to see you suffer. So will you leave Morni or not?

“Never,” snapped Tara. “And I don't regret killing Kali at all.
Not one bit
.”

“In that case things are going to get a lot worse for you,” said Layla. She waddled away as fast as she could. Tara raced after her and spun her around, her chest heaving.

“I'll find a way to stop you, Layla. Don't think for one minute I'll let you get away with this just because you're a child. I'll make sure the villagers see you for the snake you really are!”

“You?” said Layla and laughed. “There is only one person who can stop me now, Tara. The god of death.”

— seven —
Secrets

L
ord Yama! Why hadn't she thought of him before now? Impressed by her bravery, he had helped once. Maybe he would help again, especially when she explained to him what a menace Layla was. He would be doing them a huge favour ridding Morni— no, the
world
— of Layla.

Tara had kept the pearly, white conch she had used to summon him the last time. She had tucked it safely inside her cupboard a while ago. But was it still there and would it work?

Tara raced home, flitting through the shadows like a bat. A stray dog chased her for a short distance, snapping at her heels.

“Go away!” she growled suddenly.

The dog stood still his ears and tail drooping. Tara remembered the other stray; his huge eyes that had lit up at the sight of food and who had been killed shortly after. She felt sorry for being so mean. “I'll bring food another time,” she whispered and flew on.

Tara reached the back door of her hut, chanting silently …
let it be there
…
please let it be there
. She tiptoed into the kitchen and straight through to the front room. The sound of deep, steady breathing filled the room, punctuated by an occasional snore from her father.

Tara went straight to the cupboard and opened it an inch at a time. The right door squeaked. Tara held her breath and looked from her father to her mother to Suraj. No one stirred.

If she could find the conch tonight, she could summon Lord Yama right away. They would be rid of Layla forever and she would be safe and so would Morni. She was sure that with Layla gone, their troubles would be over. Her plan had to work!

Finally, Tara got the cupboard door open without waking anyone. She rummaged through her clothes in darkness. Deeper and deeper, she reached until her fingertips brushed the back. She realized with a jolt that there was no conch. She examined each and every item of her clothing, feeling their pockets and folds. Nothing. Had she lost it? How could she have been so careless?

She wanted to wake up her mother and ask her if she had seen it. But how was she going to explain why she was looking for a shell in the middle of the night? She didn't dare tell her what she was going to use it for; Lord Yama had forbidden it.

Tara knelt and fingered Suraj's clothes next. The moonlight barely reached the interior of the cupboard even though she had opened the doors as wide as they would go. It was not in her brother's clothes, either. Panic seeped through her, making her arms and legs feel leaden. How could she have lost such a precious thing?

Then she remembered: any kind of shell was considered bad luck, and most people did not keep one in the house. What if her mother had thrown it out? Tara sat back on her haunches trying to sniff back tears of frustration. She needed that conch. Now!

I'll make you suffer.
Layla's menacing whisper echoed in Tara's head. She shuddered and started rummaging through the clothes again. It had to be here. Maybe she hadn't looked carefully enough.

“Didi?” said a soft voice. Tara jumped. Suraj stood behind her, rubbing his eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Shhhh! Nothing. Go to sleep.”

“But Didi, I want to help,” he whispered. “What are you looking for?”

“Something I lost. Now go to sleep or you'll wake Mother and Father.”

“I'll find it for you,” he said, leaning closer to whisper in her ear. “What did you lose?”

Tara sighed. Could she trust him enough to tell him what it was? And how many more questions would that lead to? She stared into his eyes and made up her mind.

“I'm looking for a shell, a pearly, white conch shell that was given to me by a … ummm … a friend. Do you know where it is?”

“Yes.”

Tara's stomach churned. Was he serious? Just then a thought occurred to her and she frowned. “I kept it in the cupboard behind my clothes. Did you touch it without my permission?”

Suraj shook his head.

“You better be telling the truth!” whispered Tara. “Or I'll be very, very angry with you.”

Suraj slid his hand into hers, glancing at their parents. Surprisingly they were still asleep. He tiptoed to the kitchen, pulling Tara behind him, and shut the door. She stared at Suraj in the dim moonlit room. Already, the baby features she loved so much were melting away, but his eyes held the same warmth and mischief. He and Layla were the same age, but like earth and sky when it came to personalities.

“You remember how we used to wake up early like this when Kali was around?” said Suraj. “You'd make us some tea and we'd talk before starting the day's work.”

“Yes and don't remind me,” said Tara. “It wasn't a good time.”

“No, it wasn't,” he said, as he helped himself to water from the earthen pot. The cup scraped the bottom and she remembered that they would soon have a long trek ahead of them to get water. Just the thought of it made her tired.

“So where is the conch and how do
you
know where it is?” demanded Tara. She spoke a little more loudly, now that they were out of earshot of their parents.

Suraj opened the back door and for the second time that night, Tara stepped out. Pale pink cracks had appeared in the blue-black slab of sky. Suraj went straight to a corner of the courtyard. He pointed to a sapling with broad, oval-shaped leaves and rounded tips that stood straight and tall, a peepul tree. At its base was her shell, splattered with mud. No wonder Tara hadn't noticed or recognized it!

She snatched it up and shook off the dew and mud that clung to it. Would it still work? Did the power go away if it became muddy?

“How did it get here?” Tara almost snapped at Suraj.

“Mother found it when she was clearing out the cupboard a few days ago. She asked me if it was mine and I said no. Then she said that
you
should have more sense than to bring a shell indoors — it's bad luck. Mother told me to throw it out immediately, but it was so beautiful that I decided to put it next to my peepul tree. Good idea, no?”

Tara smiled. “
Very
good idea, Suraj. A friend gave me this special shell. I'm so happy we found it.”

“Which friend?”

“You wouldn't know him.”

“What's his name?”

“I told you, Suraj, you don't know him. I — er — I met him when I wandering around in the forest the time I thought you were … gone.”

“At least tell me his name.”

“Um … Amay,” she said, watching him closely to see if he would figure it out.

Suraj scrunched up his face, then shook his head.

“No, don't know him.”

“Told you,” said Tara. “Thanks for helping me find this. Now you better go back inside. It's almost morning. I'll give Mother a surprise and clean up the courtyard.” What she really wanted to do was to clean up the shell and try it out. It was the one thought that burned inside her, but she dared not do it in front of Suraj or anyone else.