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lost both my parents. Am I not unluckier than you?”

      Tara reached out and held his hand tightly.

      “I am so glad I have you, Ananth. It hurts so much to go on living without my family. I wish I could die so we could all be together. I feel as much an orphan as you do. But,” she said, squeezing his hand, “I have you, my brother, and we’ll be all right together.”

      “We’ll talk tomorrow. Now, eat this delicious hare I’ve cooked. You can’t let it go to waste.”

      Surprisingly, Tara found that she was hungry. She gnawed at the meat, feeling spent yet light-hearted. After a couple of bites, Tara stopped eating and sniffed.

      “Ananth, is this meat fresh?”

      “Of course, silly! You saw me kill it in front of you. Why do you ask?”

      “Then why does it smell rotten?” asked Tara, sniffing it all over. “I hope it does not have some kind of bone disease.”

      A large shadow, then two, then three, fell across the wall of the cave. Tara and Ananth both looked up in horror.

      Tara screamed.

       CHAPTER 11 THE VETALAS

      Three large men with translucent green skin stood blocking the entrance. A foul smell emanating from them permeated every corner of the cave, making Tara nauseous. The men bared their broken, yellow teeth and grunted.

      The Vetalas, thought Tara. He’s sent them to kill us.

      “What do you want?” asked Tara in a shaky voice.

      Up close, they were so ugly that it almost hurt to keep eye contact. Each of the men had a deep gash on his forehead. Their eyes were black, as if having seen some terrible sight, the whites had dissolved completely.

      The men grunted and advanced, one large, backward-turned foot at a time. They converged on Tara and Ananth, blocking escape.

      Ananth inched backward and grabbed a burning twig from the fire. He scooped it up and threw it into the face of the nearest Vetala. The man swept it aside without any effort and continued advancing.

      “Listen to me,” pleaded Tara. “We have not harmed you in any way. Please spare us.”

      No reaction. Grunting, the Vetalas advanced.

      Ananth launched himself at the nearest Vetala and started clawing at his face, while Tara flung whatever she could at them: pots, rocks, shoes, burning twigs. One of the twigs landed on the clothes of the Vetala closest to her and he lit up like a torch. He rolled on the ground, screaming in agony. His companions ignored him. The burning Vetala grunted and shrieked so loudly that Tara’s ears were ringing. The fire engulfed him rapidly, and within moments he was a charred lump of sickly smelling flesh.

      That left two. Enraged, the remaining Vetalas lunged at Tara and Ananth.

      “Ananth, help,” croaked Tara as rough hands closed tightly around her throat.

      But Ananth had his hands full trying to prevent the other Vetala from getting a grip around his own neck. Tara kicked weakly as the cave started to go black.

      Suddenly, Ananth twisted out of the grip of the Vetala he had been grappling with and made a dash for the entrance of the cave, which was unguarded.

      He’s running away, thought Tara as she gasped for breath. He’s leaving me with these monsters.

      Panic hammered at her chest. She was all alone!

      “Ananth!” she started to yell, but no sound came out as she fought for breath. The green monster followed Ananth outside. Someone yelled, there was scuffling, and then silence. A sweat-soaked Ananth came dashing back into the cave as Tara still struggled with her attacker.

      With a running leap, Ananth jumped onto the Vetala’s back, clawing at his eyes.

      “Aaaargh,” the Vetala yelled. It reached back and slashed at Ananth’s exposed face with long and dirty fingernails.

      “Tara, the fire,” gasped Ananth, starting to tire as the Vetala bucked and jumped.

      Tara reached for the largest burning log and dragged it out of the fire. The burning wood singed her palms, but she did not feel a thing. She dropped the wood onto the Vetala’s feet as he struggled with Ananth. The stench of scorching flesh filled the cave. Howling, the Vetala ran for freedom. Ananth jumped off and the shrieking Vetala disappeared into the night.

      For a moment, there was silence. Tara sat up and dragged herself toward Ananth, who was lying still. He was bleeding profusely from the numerous cuts and scrapes on his arms and face. There was a particularly deep and ugly scratch on his right check that looked very painful.

      “Ananth, are you all right?”

      “Water,” he croaked.

      Tara ran to get the animal skin and brought it to him. She poured the cool water into his mouth, trying not to look too horrified at the bruises and cuts he had suffered. Revived, Ananth managed to crawl over to the bedding and collapsed on it. Tara built up the fire, all the while darting anxious looks at Ananth. She was lucky to have escaped with nothing more than a few scratches. Ananth had saved her. She dipped a cloth in water and started cleaning Ananth’s wounds. Guilt coursed through her veins when she realized that he had saved her life and she had thought he was going to abandon her. What a suspicious fool I am, she chided herself bitterly as her hands moved gently across Ananth’s face.

      “Owww, ouch,” came a steady stream from Ananth.

      “Just a bit more, Ananth. Keep still.”

      He opened his eyes gradually.

      “Tara, I’m hurting all over. It feels like I’m on fire. What if I ...”

      “Shhh. Don’t talk.”

      In a short while, she had cleaned up all his bruises as best as she could, though his face was starting to swell up and the cut on his cheek was an angry red, bursting at the seams.

      “Not him too, Lord. You can’t do this to me,” she muttered.

      As the night progressed, Ananth got worse. His skin was flushed and hot. A sudden fear gripped her as she realized that, once again, she was all alone, and it was up to her to save their lives and find her grandfather. The walls of the cave seemed to be closing in on her, squeezing all the air out. Get a grip, said a stern voice in her head. You start panicking at the first sign of trouble. You don’t have that luxury right now. Both your lives are in your hands.

      Yes, she thought. I have to think clearly. Make some medicine to fight the poison, yes that’s it. Tulsi, ritha, amla, and neem.

      She realized with a sick feeling that she did not have any neem leaves. Doesn’t matter. Just make the best of what you have. Hurry ... you don’t have time, said the little voice.

      With shaking hands she put the remaining water to boil and tipped the precious herbs into it. She kept checking on Ananth every few minutes. He was delirious.

      “Ananth, talk to me. Say something,” she begged as she blew on the infusion. Tears leaked out as she realized it had been a while since Ananth had last spoken. Some of her tears plopped into the cooling water. I hope the salt does not ruin the medicine, she thought, blowing hard to cool the concoction.

      She ran to Ananth and, cradling his head in her lap, she tried to force his pale lips open to pour the liquid in. He did not respond at all, and she had to squeeze it into his mouth a few drops at a time. A sense of déjà vu came upon her as she prayed and cried alternately. The night was long. Ananth thrashed restlessly, the cut on his face becoming more livid and swollen, so that his cheek looked like a ripe fig about to burst.

      In the quiet hours between night and dawn, Ananth stopped thrashing and Tara could feel the life seep out of him, as water from

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