The Deadly Conch (25 page)

She swallowed the bitter taste of fear and tried to control the panic that now raced through her veins, becoming part of every breath she took.

Tara walked up to her and cupped her face. “Mother, I'll be all right. Go back to Suraj. Please.”

Parvati's face was contorted with pain as she stared at Tara. She opened her mouth but no words came out.

“They're making a huge mistake but they will realize it very soon,” said Tara. “We Lalls are strong and I'm not going to beg or plead for mercy.”

“Then I will,” said Parvati. “I'll do anything to save your life.”

“No, Mother. I don't want you to let go of your dignity in front of these people. You must go. Lord Ganesh is with me.”

The two villagers Raka had summoned stood close by, looking ashamed. Neither could meet her eye. They tugged at Parvati once more. She broke free and lunged at Tara, embracing her fiercely. This time Tara did not return the hug though she inhaled deeply, capturing the scent of her mother within her heart. Then she took another deep breath. She was not going to give this blind, superstitious crowd the satisfaction of seeing her break down.

“Please go, Mother,” said Tara quietly. “And don't come back, no matter what you hear.”

Parvati fainted and Tara had to use every bit of willpower to keep from rushing to her side. The villagers carried her away, leaving Tara with the memory of her stricken face.

“When are you … when will this happen?” said Tara trying to control the tremble in her voice.

“Now,” said Raka. He could barely meet her eye. Tara glanced at the villagers who had once been like family, but no longer.

Think of the upside
, the little voice piped in.
You'll
be like all the other dead in the Underworld instead of
wandering around, alive and lonely
. And yet, this was not the way she wanted to go. Her pride smarted as she realized that she was the first child in the history of Morni to die this way. Forever after, her family name, the name of the Lalls, would be despised.

The crowd was moving back. Some of the villagers from Pinjaur were tossing something into the air, catching it again deftly. Rocks! They were already armed.

Tara clenched her hands. A voice she hated intensely whispered into her ear.

“Told you I'd win.”

— twenty-six —
Death by Stoning

A
low hum started within the crowd and spread rapidly like a forest fire.

Tara tensed, her stomach heaving, her head spinning. Who would throw the first stone? How much would it hurt? The villagers, armed with rocks, now pressed closer. The members of the Panchayats were also standing. Tara had never experienced a stoning before, but that was about to change.

For a moment there was hushed silence. Were they waiting for a command from the Panchayat? Were they waiting for her to cry, to run? Then the rumbling began.

‘Kill her,” someone said.

“Stone the witch,” another yelled.

“She must die!” A woman shrieked.

Tara's knees turned to jelly as the voices grew more strident. Her lungs seemed empty even though she took deep breaths. The edges of her vision start to blur.

The next moment Tara's head exploded with pain. She screamed and clapped her hand to her head. It came away moist and red. Someone had thrown the first stone.

She scanned the crowd, blood streaming down her face, and wasn't surprised when Layla stepped forward.

“What are you all waiting for?” screamed Layla. “This evil person deserves to die!”

The floodgates opened and rocks flew at her from all sides, connecting with bone and tender skin. Tara shrieked and fell to the ground covering her head. Tears of anger, pain, and shame coursed down her cheeks as a monsoon of rocks rained down. She was on fire and prayed one of the rocks would knock her unconscious.

“STOP!” roared a voice filled with rage.

The voice boomed through the village centre. Immediately the shower of stones stopped. Tara tried to stand, but it was too painful. She managed to sit up, all of her screaming in agony. Blood trickled into her right eye so that she could barely see clearly.

The clip-clopping of hooves and loud gasps that rippled through the crowd gave away her rescuer's identity. Villagers jumped aside and Lord Yama rode straight up to her. He dismounted and helped Tara to her feet. “You're late, Tara and now I know why. I'm so sorry I didn't get here sooner. Oh my dear child, just look at you …”

Tara shook her head, unable to say a word. His kindness was too much to bear and the tears continued to flow. He shook his large head sorrowfully and wiped her tears.

“I failed, Lord Yama. I failed.”

Yama glanced at Layla, who stood in the front row staring at them, aghast. He turned to the Panchayats. “Have you all taken complete leave of your senses? You're killing the one person who is trying to save you? You're all weak, foolish, and PATHETIC!”

The crowd drew back. Only Raka stood his ground.

“Lord Yama,” he said, folding his hands, “we did not expect to see you here. But with all due respect, you are wrong. Tara has committed terrible crimes that have ruined the livelihood of many. The effects of her actions will be felt not just by Morni, but Pinjaur, too, for months to come. She has upset the gods with her wickedness and we're all paying for it. The monsoon has failed and our crops are dead. Yesterday, she was up to her cruel tricks in Pinjaur and this time we have a witness.”

“She wasn't even in your world yesterday, let alone Pinjaur,” said Lord Yama. “Tara was in the Underworld, trying to talk sense into Kali to save your miserable hides. I know it because I took her there and brought her back.”

The collective gasp of the crowd was music to Tara's ears. At last, they knew the truth. The truth that she had struggled to keep to herself because of her promise to Lord Yama. She scanned the crowd, but no one met her eyes.

Raka mopped his streaming white face with his turban. “But then who did that old man, Dayalu, see at the well? He swore he saw Tara. Are you saying he was lying?”

Lord Yama reached out a massive hand and plucked Layla from the front row. “
This
is the bad egg. She's been acting on the instructions of her mother, Kali, and wreaking havoc with all your lives.”

“That can't be true,” said Raka. His voice shook and broke. “It's not possible …”

“In all the time that you have known Tara, have you ever seen her kill anything or hurt anyone?” said Yama.

Raka shook his head.

“Then how could you believe she could contaminate not one, but two wells harming hundreds of people?”

“But the evidence —” Raka started to say.

“Can be tampered with,” snapped Lord Yama. “Who vanquished Zarku and saved you all from a fate worse than death?”

“Tara,” said Raka in a very small voice.

“Who brought Suraj and Sadia back at great peril to her own life?”

This time Raka could not reply. He swallowed hard.

“Tara!” said Yama. “How could you even
think
she could be guilty? Just because you found an article of clothing and a pot at the sites of the crimes? Raka, I thought the Panchayat was wise and you more so, but you've disappointed me today. You have made such a huge mistake.”

Raka flushed. “We thought that because she'd spent so much time with Zarku, his evil influence —”

“Are you mad?” said Yama. “You let superstition guide your actions? I'm appalled at your stupidity.”

“But then why didn't she tell us the truth?” said Raka. “Why did she stay silent? We gave her the chance to speak yesterday. She said she went for a walk all alone. We all knew that was a lie!”

Lord Yama came up to Tara and wiped her cheeks gently. He looked at the blood smeared on his hand and shook his head once again. “Why didn't you tell them, Tara?”

“I gave you my word that I wouldn't,” said Tara softly.

Lord Yama patted her head. “You are a star, Tara. In all my time, I have never seen someone as brave and true as you.”

Yama turned around to face the Raka. “I had made Tara promise not to tell anyone where she had been. It would have ruined the balance in the world and would have angered some gods. All she was doing was keeping her word, even though it meant she would have to pay for the silence with her life. You should touch her feet, Raka, and worship her instead of stoning her to death. That goes for all of you.”

Raka's eyes darted to Kripan, who looked defiant and then back to Lord Yama. Finally he looked at Tara. “On behalf of the Panchayat, please accept our apology. We have made a huge mistake.”

“YES, YOU HAVE!” said Yama. “All of you missed the real culprit, Layla, even though Tara tried to warn you several times.”

Tara turned to see Layla's reaction, but she wasn't there. While he and Raka were talking she had slipped into the crowd.

Tara ignored the agonizing pain that made it hard to move even a muscle and dove into the crowd. She caught Layla by her pigtail and dragged her back to the front. Layla squealed, trying to break free. Not a single villager helped her. Tara hung on to her with every bit of strength she had. With Yama next to her, she could finally complete what she had set out to do. And this time no one would dare stop her.

“Please,” said Layla. “I'm just a child. You can't hurt me.”

“But you were willing to hurt another child?” said Yama, towering over her. “In all my years I have not come across anyone like you, Layla. You have put the most corrupt souls to shame because you have done so much harm to so many, at such a young age. I dread to think what you'll be capable of when you grow up.”

Tara addressed the Panchayat. “This is exactly what I've been telling everyone. Kali's last words to me were that Layla would avenge her death and she was right. That's why I requested Lord Yama to take me to the Underworld to meet Kali, to stop her from influencing her daughter. But it was futile. Kali said she'd stop only after I was dead and she'd taken revenge on each and every villager in Morni who had wronged her.”

“So then … all of those terrible things that happened in Morni; the wells, the butchered dog in the temple,” asked Raka. “That was
you
, Layla?”

Layla looked from Raka to Lord Yama and finally to Tara. She chewed her nails but did not utter a word.

“You'd better speak up,” said Tara. She wanted Layla to confess in front of all the villagers so that her name would be clear.

Layla shook her head.

Tara wrapped her hands around Layla's fat neck; an act she had dreamed of for so long. Terror sprang into Layla's eyes and Tara's grip slackened involuntarily as she realized what she was really doing. She was cold-bloodedly murdering a child!

Layla seemed to sense her thoughts. The terror in her eyes receded. Layla was expecting her to show mercy as always. But then, Suraj's face popped into her head.

Tara remembered his small hand in hers, growing cold while she had argued with her mother. Because of Layla she would never hear him call her
Didi
again. Her hands tightened and she stepped closer, their faces inches apart. No one attempted to intervene.

“I want the Panchayat to hear this, Layla. Who put the dead dog in the temple and framed me?” said Tara.

“I-I don't …” Layla stuttered. Tara squeezed hard and the answer popped out of Layla.

“I did it,” said Layla. “Let me go now.”

The villagers muttered audibly.

“Why did you do something so terrible, Layla?” said Raka. He stepped closer and stared at Layla as if she were a particularly loathsome insect. “Even if you hated Tara, why would our defile the temple? Have you no respect for God, for the rest of us?”

Layla struggled to break free. Tara slapped her hard. Layla stopped twitching, her eyes glittering with rage.

“I'm not finished yet, Rakaji,” said Tara. “Who contaminated Morni's well water?”

Layla stared at Tara. Sweat beaded her forehead and her lower lip quivered. The livid crowd hurled curses at her.

“Evil spawn of an evil mother!”

“You miserable wretch.”

“Give her the same punishment we gave Tara: stone her to death!”

“I asked you a question,” said Tara in a cold voice. Her arms were starting to ache and she didn't know how much longer she'd be able to hold on.

“You know the answer so stop asking silly questions,” said Layla. “Mother and I still communicate. She came up with the plans and I carried them out. We never expected to be caught.”

Tara's relief was so great that she almost let go of Layla. She had finally cleared her name; the granddaughter of Prabala had not ruined the family name of the Lalls.

An ashen-faced Sumathy emerged from the crowd. She came up to them and slapped Layla hard. “You are your mother's daughter all right,” said Sumathy. “We looked after you and all along you were the cause of all our troubles. You've ruined my belief in the innocence of childhood.”

Layla spit in her face and Sumathy was so shocked that she stood still, saliva dripping down her cheeks.

“Who was that old man who said he saw me by the well at Pinjaur?” said Tara, eager to remove any doubt from the villagers' minds.

“I know you've figured it out,” said Layla. “So why don't you show the villagers how clever you are. If you want to throw me out of the village, go ahead and do it. I don't care!”

Tara shook her so hard that her head snapped back and forth.

“Stop … you're hurting me,” said Layla.

Lord Yama stepped up closer. “You better answer that, Layla.” He said it very quietly but his tone was stern and forbidding.

“It was Dushta, my grandfather,” said Layla. A sullen expression replaced the ever-present smirk on her pasty face.

This time the crowd didn't even gasp. They were just as shocked as she had been when she'd realized that Kali's father was still alive, and that he had aided his granddaughter in giving false testimony.