LITMIR.BIZ

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what happened to Mushika? Is he dead? What did you make me give him? Is this the Water of Life or Death?”

      She was babbling, but Mushika was so dear to her now that she could not bear to be the one to have killed him.

      “Patience, my child. Watch,” said Maya.

      Small pink stubs were poking out of Mushika’s belly. As they watched, the legs elongated and little toes appeared. Within seconds, Mushika looked like a normal little mouse sleeping on his back. He opened his eyes and flipped over. Realization hit him instantly. He jumped, hopped, and ran around squeaking while Maya and Tara laughed at his antics.

      “I must go. I want to see Ananth alive once again,” said Tara.

      She stooped to touch Maya’s feet in a gesture of respect and profound gratitude.

      “Bless you, my child; you are brave and intelligent,” Maya told her. “I am very impressed with you. Take the tunnel from the far side of the cave — it will lead you straight to the entrance. And remember: do the right thing.”

      Tara, who was striding rapidly to the far end, heard the words and turned back, but Maya and the fountain had already vanished. What did she mean by that: “do the right thing”? And where had she heard this advice before? As Tara climbed the steep tunnel, she pondered the words. She was brought back to reality by a mouse who was determinedly practising mountain climbing on various parts of her anatomy.

      “Stop that, you little idiot,” she said as Mushika’s feet dug into her neck, ears, and even her nose! “Enough already! You’ve gotten your legs back. They have to last you a lifetime, so don’t wear them out already.”

      The air was starting to smell sweeter, bringing a promise of freedom and sunshine. Tara sprinted up in her eagerness to reach Ananth. Mushika held on for dear life.

      “Slow down,” he managed to squeak through clenched teeth.

      “I can’t! I want to reach Ananth before it’s too late.” In the broadening daylight at the end of the tunnel Tara saw a bundle of rags. They seemed to be moving. She slowed down.

      “What is that?” she whispered to Mushika.

      “I don’t know. Let’s go closer, but be careful.”

      She strode up to the bundle, hoping against hope that this would not be another test. She clutched the bottle with the precious water to her chest. Drawing nearer, she saw that it was not a bundle of rags but a man writhing on the ground. A filthy, tattered kurta and pyjama covered his crumpled body. His long, dirty hair was matted and crawling with lice. His face was covered with grime, except where tears had streaked down his face, cutting a clear path through the filth. A small sound issued from his cracked, swollen lips. Tara knelt.

      The man opened a puffed eye, caked with white mucous, and muttered, “Water ...”

      Tara leaned closer. He looked ill and stank strongly of urine. Tara tried not to wrinkle her nose in disgust.

      “Baba, I have something that I must do. I’ll be back very soon with water and help.”

      “NO!” he croaked. “Help ... now. What’s ... in ... your hand?”

      A solitary ray of sunshine had found its way into the tunnel. It lit up the bottle of water clenched in Tara’s hand. The beggar had forced open both eyes and was now looking at the bottle as his pleading continued.

      “Water ... I don’t ... want ... to die.”

      Tara looked at him in dismay.

      “Not this water, Baba. This is for my brother, Ananth, who is lying dead in the clutches of Lord Yama. This water will bring him back to life.”

      “Water ... please.”

      His voice trailed into an exhausted croak. His eyes closed and he lay still.

      “What should I do, Mushika? I can’t go back in to get more water. Baba will die if I leave him. If I give it to him, I have lost Ananth forever. What should I do?” She chewed her lower lip ferociously.

      Lord Yama’s words came back to her: “Help a person in need. You may end up helping yourself.”

      “Do the right thing, Tara.” Mushika’s words made her look up: he’d said exactly what Maya and Lord Yama had said to her earlier. She looked at the sick man. She looked back at the tunnel and all the horrors she had experienced in there. Could she turn away from a living person to bring someone back from the dead? If this was right, why did it take so much effort? What about Ananth? After all this, was she to lose him forever?

      The old man raised a trembling hand to her in mute appeal. She saw the wrinkles, the thick, blue veins that criss-crossed under his pale skin. The hand fell back and he was still. Tara made her decision. She uncorked the bottle and raised the old man’s head into her lap.

      “Open your mouth, Baba. Here is the water.”

      She tilted his head back and poured the water down his throat. As the water slid out in a silvery stream, it seemed like all the happiness was draining out of her body. She stood up in a daze of pain. Ananth’s dead body swam into her mind’s eye and her eyes filled with tears, blurring her sight. Ananth, I am so sorry I could not save you. I had to save Ba—

      “Tara,” said a familiar voice.

      Her eyes snapped open. Ananth stood in front of her, grinning from ear to ear. He rushed to her and gave her a hug. She stood there, sobbing. Mushika sat on her shoulder and wept, too.

      “That old man was you?” she said.

      Ananth nodded.

      Lord Yama appeared at the mouth of the cave and beckoned to both of them.

      “I am so proud of you, Tara. You remembered all my instructions and followed them. Your heart is as pure as you are brave. This was the last test to see if you would let someone die for the selfish purpose of bringing your brother back to life. You are true to your name: ‘Tara,’ which means ‘star.’ You are a guiding light to all who know you. If you ever need my help, blow into this shell and I will be there,” he said, handing her a pearly white conch shell with a pale pink edge.

      “And there are your things,” he said, pointing to their bundles at the mouth of the cave.

      Tara folded her hands and bowed her head. She took the shell from him and tucked it into her pocket. Lord Yama mounted his bull, clip-clopped off into the trees, and vanished.

      Laughing and crying at the same time, Tara clasped Ananth’s hand, not daring to believe she had survived the journey and brought her brother back to life. Hope and confidence surged through her body and she felt happier than she had in a long, long time.

      “Tara, you did it, all alone. I am impressed. It feels so good to be alive again.”

      “I did have some help. This is Mushika.”

      She held out her right hand where Mushika sat, nose woffling, bright, black eyes glinting. Ananth stroked his head.

      “So, this is your little guide. Thank you, Mushika! Tara, you have given me a new life and it is pledged to you till we can find your mother and grandfather.”

      Tara’s heart was bursting with joy as they walked away from the cave. She had fought against a situation that most people would have considered hopeless and won. She had brought Ananth back from the dead. She felt up to any challenge now. And she had gained a new friend, who now lay fast asleep in the inner pocket of her kurta.

      “Zarku will not take long to find out that we are still alive. The attack on us will be swift and soon,” said Ananth in a serious voice. “Let’s get to that temple, Tara. Our lives, and the lives of all the villagers, will depend on how quickly we can find Prabala and bring him back to Morni.”

      Tara quickly located the twin peaks in the Shivaliks, between which the temple lay, and headed for them. It was late afternoon

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