Forest of Demons Read online

  An incredulous gasp rippled through the crowd.

  The bard smiled smugly. “Oh, yes my dear friends, the rakshasa is a wily foe indeed. This particular demon recognized the prince as a hunter, and tempted him across the river by transforming into a deer. The prince, unable to ignore the call of the hunt, stripped himself of his clothes and swam gracefully across the river. As soon as he stepped into the cool confines of the dark forest, the rakshasa pounced, tearing him to shreds.

  “The demon then took on the prince’s form. When the sun had set, he crossed the river, donned the prince’s discarded clothes, and tried to mount the prince’s horse. He soon discovered that the horse was immune to his disguise. It whinnied and reared up in fear. Leaving the horse in the forest, the demon continued on foot.

  “That eve he presented himself to the king who was instantly smitten by his grace and beauty. But beauty and grace were not enough. The king demanded something more, something special and unique to rival his daughter’s wondrous beauty and charming nature. The demon proceeded to entertain the king with tricks and illusions, claiming to have mastered the arts of magick. The king was captivated and agreed to allow him an introduction to the princess immediately.

  “The princess, however, was not so sure. Although the prince was handsome, courteous, and accomplished, she could not help but feel uncomfortable in his presence. His eyes devoured her hungrily, and she broke out in gooseflesh whenever in his presence. In private she implored her father to send the prince away, but the king, now completely under the demon’s spell, would hear nothing of it. He ordered the princess to wed the prince or be banished from the kingdom. The princess reluctantly agreed on one condition, that after the wedding, the couple would remain in her kingdom.

  “The king posed this to the demon, who, in his greed and desperation to have the princess, agreed. The wedding was arranged for two days hence. The princess was much loved by her servants and enlisted their help, charging them to watch the prince carefully and report any unusual behavior to her.

  “The demon, however, was no fool. He knew that his absence during the daylight hours may attract attention, so made sure to drink till late with the other lords and dukes staying at the palace. Thus he was able to claim sickness due to alcohol the next day, appearing only once the sun had set. That night he played the same trick again, rising the next morning in time to dress and be anointed for the wedding.

  “The princess was in despair. Her servants, sensing her grief, wept for her. So it was a tear-streaked princess that muttered the vows binding her to the demon.

  “That night the rakshasa took her body with all the rutting elegance of the beast he was, tearing at her delicate skin with his fingernails, drawing blood with sharp nips of passion. The princess begged and implored him to be gentle, but his lust would not be contained. He took her over and over again until the sun began its ascent; only then did he retreat to his chambers, bolting the doors and allowing no one to enter.

  “The princess, abused and traumatized, ran forthwith to her father’s quarters, whereupon putting shame aside, she exposed her injuries for him to see. Horrified and enraged with this evidence of abuse, the king stormed off to evict the prince. But the king’s ire was short-lived, much to the princess’s distress. He returned an hour later, ordering her to return to her husband immediately. When she refused, he ordered his guards to take her by force.

  “Upon entry into her husband’s chambers, his true nature was revealed to her, but his hold over the king meant that she was powerless to end his abuse.

  “For thirty days and nights the rakshasa took his fill, and he would have continued longer if not for the servant’s intervention. They sent word to the neighboring kingdom. Aid arrived in the form of the Pious King and his Tantric baba; a man of magical power, who dissolved the spell cast over the king, thus chasing away the demon.

  “The princess was free, but it soon became apparent that the rakshasa’s seed had taken hold and would not be shaken. As the princess grew heavy with child, the people that had once loved and adored her now shunned even her shadow. Despondent and depressed, the princess left the palace and walked into the dark forest, never to be seen again.

  “Some say that she reunited with her demon husband, giving herself to the life of a rakshasa; some say she was devoured by the wild beasts; and others claim she bore a beast so powerful, so horrific, that no rakshasa dare challenge her lest her child tear them limb from limb.”

  The bard bowed his head indicating the end of the tale. There was utter silence.

  “What happened to the king?” someone in the audience asked.

  The bard smiled. “The king, devastated by the loss of his heavenly child and blaming himself for her torment, lost his mind.”

  “And the Pious King?”

  “Went back to being pious, I expect.”

  “Rakshasas can’t do illusions; they’re animals, beasts,” another villager said.

  “Are they?” The bard smiled slyly.

  The munsiff stood, his large belly jiggling. “Thank you, bard. I don’t think any of us have heard that particular tale before; how refreshing to hear something new.”

  There were murmurs of consent, and then someone began to clap, and the whole market square erupted in applause.

  The bard stood, taking a bow and a twirl.

  Priya joined in the clapping, her heart still pounding, her head still reeling from the horrific yet compelling tale. She turned to Pratip with a smile, but he was gone.

  The crowd was shifting, people getting ready to leave. She gnawed on her bottom lip. Guru had promised to walk her home. The temple was a five-minute walk away, while her home was at least twenty. She picked up the cushions and started to make her way through the crowd.

  A warm hand gently cupped her elbow. “May I walk you home?”

  She looked up into Ravi’s clean, chiseled face. “Oh, no, that’s okay. Guru has already promised to do so.”

  Ravi looked about. “Guru isn’t here.”

  “I’m going to fetch him now.”

  A strange expression of ambivalence crossed Ravi’s features. He sighed. “Wouldn’t it be easier for you to let me walk you home?”

  Priya couldn’t deny the logic in that, but her heart longed to see Guru, and he had promised. “It’s fine, honestly.” She smiled and turned away.

  “Priya . . . I wouldn’t do that. I mean . . . just, don’t.”

  Priya bit back her annoyance. “Why not?”

  Ravi exhaled sharply, dropping his gaze, lashes fanning against his cheek. “Never mind. If you change your mind, I’ll be at the smithy.” He turned and sauntered away.

  Priya continued toward the temple, shaking her head in exasperation. Why did he have to be so . . . odd?

  She reached the Temple and made her way around back toward the long, low hut Guru’s family called home. The windows were dark. The place felt empty. Priya stood outside the front door not knowing what to do. Where could he be?

  A low moan cut through the air.

  Guru?

  She moved around the house toward the herb garden. The moan came again, louder this time.

  Guru, it was most definitely Guru, and he was hurt.

  Priya ran into the herb garden, searching the darkness for the man she loved, and froze. Her brain struggled to piece together what she was seeing.

  Guru, naked and Pratip . . . naked. Both naked together.

  “Priya? Oh, shit!” Guru covered himself.

  Priya stumbled back.

  Guru rushed toward her, grabbing at her arm with one hand, and holding his pants up with the other.

  “Priya, please listen. I’m sorry, I should have told you, but I was scared you wouldn’t understand, scared you’d blame me for Mala’s death.”

  Priya stared at him in horrified incomprehension.

  He began to speak urgently. “She was following me that day. I was going to meet up with Pratip—we have this special spot. I think she suspected I w
as seeing someone. I cut through the forest to throw her off my trail. I never expected . . . I never expected she would follow, that she would . . . die.”

  It was his fault? Mala was his fault. She’d confessed her fears to him, and he’d kept the truth from her, lied to her, cheated on Mala with . . . with, oh God, she couldn’t even think it. Tearing her elbow from his grasp, she turned and ran.

  Her heart was slamming against her ribcage, her mouth dry, she ran through the market and into the winding streets of the village where the moon was elusive, only then did she slow her pace. She stood, bent over, hands on her knees gasping for breath. From the corner of her eye she saw the shadow

  A huge black dog.

  Her eyes mimicked saucers as a scream bubbled up her throat.

  As if spurred by her distress the dog backed away, melting into the shadows.

  She waited, afraid it was a trick. Afraid that it was merely waiting for her to turn her back so it could pounce. Long minutes ticked by and nothing happened.

  Quickly she made her way home.

  She’d expected her parents to be asleep when she returned, but Ma was still up, Priya’s basket of mending at her feet, a lone lamp lit to guide her weary eyes.

  Ma’s smile faded when she saw Priya’s tear-streaked face. “Priya? What’s happened?”

  Priya opened her mouth to deny that anything was wrong, to make up a lie, but instead Mala’s face swam before her eyes, then Pratip’s naked back and Guru’s bare torso. The truth spilt from her lips like bitter poison.

  Ma’s outraged face shimmered as fresh tears cleared a new path down her cheeks.

  When she was done Ma led her to her room, tucked her into bed, smoothed her forehead, and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Your Papa and I knew you had your heart set on him, but we always knew it couldn’t be; his family is way above our station. But this . . . I never dreamed. Poor Mala.” She retreated with a deep sigh, pulling the curtain closed behind her.

  Priya lay in the darkness, her heart choked with grief and loss, her mind clouded with confusion. She’d been certain of Guru’s affections for so long. Had loved him forever but hidden her feelings, because he was to be Mala’s. Mala had suspected, but she’d suspected Priya.

  How was this possible? Why would he do those things—things meant to be between man and woman—with Pratip?

  She ran through their recent conversations, trying to find a clue, some inkling that his affections lay elsewhere. Every word, every expression, and every nuance . . . it struck her then how Guru had referred to Mala. He had referred to her as “our dear friend.” Why hadn’t she picked up on that before? The argument that he and Pratip had in the forest . . . so much like a lovers’ quarrel, and the affection in Guru’s eyes when he’d looked at Pratip, the way he’d confided in him—it all made sense now.

  Ravi’s words came to mind. “He will never love you the way you love him.” Ravi had known. He’d tried to stop her from going to the temple that evening, tried to protect her from the truth. Had Guru known that Ravi was aware of his secret? Was that why he’d been so adamant she not speak with him? Had he merely be trying to protect himself when all the while she’d believed he was concerned about her?

  As her breathing settled, as her heart found its rhythm, her conscience awoke.

  Guru loved Pratip. She didn’t understand it, but felt its truth, had seen it in his eyes. She didn’t understand it, but she loved him and didn’t have the strength to hurt him. If only he had confided in her sooner . . . She would speak to him in the morning. Tell him that she would keep his secret.

  Her head ached. Sleep tugged at her eyelids. She allowed it to take her.

  The next morning she awoke to the sun streaming through the curtains that hung in her doorway.

  She shot up, glancing about in panic.

  Why was the sun so bright? It must be almost midday.

  She jumped out of bed, pulled on her clothes and hurried into the kitchen

  Ma looked over from the stove. “Sit. I’ll fetch you some food.”

  “What’s going on? Why didn’t you wake me? I have to set up the stall.”

  Ma shook her head. “You’ll stay home this morning. The stall can wait.”

  “What?” Priya’s stomach dropped under the weight of foreboding. Guru, this had something to do with Guru, she could feel it. God’s, why had she told Ma what had happened! “Ma, what have you done?”

  Ma pressed her lips tightly together. “What needed to be done.”

  Priya backed away. “Ma, please . . . you didn’t . . . you didn’t say anything to anyone, right?” Even as she asked the question she knew the answer, she could see it in Ma’s eyes, the set of her delicate jaw.

  Priya grabbed her shawl and slammed out the house, ignoring Ma’s cries.

  CHAPTER 6

  The market was winding down in time for the red sun’s appearance. She noticed a parade of people moving toward the temple, as if drawn by some auspicious event. Priya’s pulse jumped as she pushed past them, moving quickly to get to the front of the crowd.

  The screams and accusations could be heard clearly, carried on the dry air like sharp motes of dust. They pricked her skin, bringing a flush of shameful horror to her cheeks.

  “You filthy creature! We give you a place in our home, and you repay us with this. Casting your evil spells on my poor boy!” Miriam’s enraged voice was accompanied by distressed wailing.

  Priya heard a meaty thud and a scream of pain.

  She pushed through to the front of the crowd to see Pratip lying at the bottom of the temple steps, his face bloody, his tunic torn. Miriam stood over him with a broom. Pratip’s mother’s screams beat the air with each blow Miriam inflicted on her son, but her husband held her back, his face twisted with revulsion.

  “Please, no. It’s not true!” Pratip’s mother, Hema, cried.

  “It is true. Your son is an abomination!”

  “Get out of our village!” someone in the crowd cried.

  “We don’t want the likes of you among us!” Another voice joined in, and then the crowd erupted in jeers and threats.

  A rock went flying past and hit Pratip on the back. He fell forward onto his face, his body shaking with sobs.

  The temple door flew open and Guru came barreling out, his face red and streaked with tears, his eye swollen and bruised.

  “No, Guru, get back!” Miriam tried to stop him, brandishing the broom as a barrier, but he pushed her aside and fell to his knees beside Pratip.

  “Pratip? I’m so sorry, Pratip?”

  Pratip lifted his bloody face and Guru cried out in horror. Another rock flew, this one aimed at Guru. It found its mark smashing into his forehead with a sickening thud.

  Priya rushed forward. “Guru!”

  Guru lashed out at her. “Get away from me! This is your fault. I thought you were my friend!”

  Priya flinched, wounded by his venomous glare.

  “You did this! I hate you! I hate you, Priya, you hear me!” Blood trickled into his eye, he swiped it away. “I hate you all, you small-minded, pathetic creatures!” His voice broke and he sobbed into Pratip’s hair.

  Miriam screamed in frustration, grasping the collar of his tunic trying to pull him away. “Get up! For God’s sake stop this!” Her anger had morphed into something else . . . something akin to sorrow.

  Priya stared at her in dawning comprehension. She’d known . . . Miriam had known and had done nothing, but now . . . now she was putting on a show. By throwing Pratip to the dogs, she was protecting her only son.

  “Priya, we should go.” Papa took her arm. “There’s nothing you can do here.”

  “No. You’re right.” She turned away. “I’ve done my worst already.”

  Priya stood in the lengthy queue to fetch water. The conversation flowed around her but didn’t register. She was lost in her own troubled thoughts.

  Guru and Pratip were gone. They’d stolen away in the dead of night. Maybe that was best. Wherever they
were, they’d be together. They’d be happy. She told herself these things to console her guilty, broken heart.

  She hadn’t spoken to Ma for almost a week now. Papa said she should forgive her, that Ma was a simple woman with simple thoughts, that her actions had been prompted through love for Priya more than anything else. “Guru broke your heart, and your Ma lashed out. She’s a lioness when it comes to protecting her only cub,” Papa had said.

  In truth it wasn’t Ma she was furious with, it was herself. But if she stopped punishing Ma, she’d have to accept that the blame lay solely at her own feet, and she would never forgive herself for her part in the destruction of Guru’s carefully constructed lie.

  In the space of a month, she’d lost both of her closest friends. Her future stretched out before her, a lonely landscape of tedium with only her guilt to keep her company.

  Ma bustled about affecting a cheerful demeanor, which only served to inflame Priya’s anger and prevent her from releasing Ma from blame. If only she’d show a little contrition. Instead she maintained that she’d taken the correct action in informing the pujari of their son’s debauchery.

  Priya went through the motions, working in the stall, helping Papa in the forest, and catching up on her mending and dress commissions. With the harvest in and the grain distributed, everyone was preparing for the festival and the winter season.

  “Priya! Hey, move up.” Nita nudged her in the small of the back. Priya resisted the urge to turn around and smack her. Instead she took a deep breath and stepped forward.

  The well would be useless soon, frozen to ice. They would get their water from the snow, which would fall in abundance. A howl of pain pulled her from her thoughts.

  “What is it? What’s going on?” She craned her neck to see what all the commotion was at the front of the queue.

  Nita had already gone to investigate, leaving her matka behind to mark her place in the queue.

  Another wail followed. Priya dropped her bucket and rushed forward.