— twenty-five —




The Final Verdict

“It’s time to go.” The voice came from far away. “Up, now!”

Someone prodded her roughly and Tara sat up, her heart beating wildly. “Wha-what happened?”

“The Panchayats have reached a decision,” said the villager.

Tara got to her feet and glanced outside. Night was upon them. She had slept the day away. Lord Yama would be coming for her in a few hours. Everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours came flooding back, along with the crushing disappointment that it was too late to carry out her plan. Layla would live and she would die.

“Come on, move,” said the villager. “We can’t keep them waiting.”

Tara ran her hands through her messy hair, trying to control their shaking. “Let’s go.”

Lanterns were placed at regular intervals on the raised platform in the centre of the village. Flickering torches circled the periphery of the clearing. Smoke from the torches rose into the air and hung in a black cloud over them.

Morni’s Panchayat was already seated on the platform. Kripan was there, too, but a couple of members of his Panchayat were still missing. Most of the villagers had gathered and more poured in. It seemed that no one wanted to miss her sentencing.

Row upon row of curious onlookers craned their necks as she walked to the front of the crowd and faced them. Some jeered and spit at her while others followed her with accusing eyes.

Tara was once again reminded of Kali’s trial. The crowd had been half the size then. Little had she known that the decision made on that day would come to haunt her years later. If only her mother could have predicted this, they would have banished Layla, too. Instead, they had raised a poisonous snake in their midst who had turned on them at the first opportunity.

Once again, she scanned the crowd for the one face she longed to see, the one person who could not fail her. And this time she saw Ananth at the back of the crowd. Her heart leaped. He had come out to support her!

As Tara stared at him, an idea took shape in her mind. Why shouldn’t she ask him to finish the task? Kill Layla to rid them of Kali’s evil legacy once and for all. The huge boulder that sat on her chest became lighter. There was still a chance that this could work out.

She stared at Ananth and jerked her head slightly, hoping he’d understand her and come closer. He stared back at her with a blank face. A boy in the front row spat on her. Tara glared at him. When she looked up again, Ananth was gone. She searched the crowd, unable to believe what she was seeing. But it was true. Ananth had vanished.

It was as if someone had put a lit match to her heart. Ananth had abandoned her, too.

Tara faced the Panchayat. All ten now sat on the platform, staring at her with grim expressions. Her gaze travelled along the front row and there was Layla smirking at her. Tara looked away, too miserable to even muster a glare.

“Is everyone here?” asked Raka.

Someone replied that more villagers from Pinjaur were expected.

Tara scanned the crowd for Dayalu and was not surprised to find him missing. He had helped his granddaughter; his job was done. Why hadn’t she recognized him earlier? Things might have turned out differently for her. Would anyone believe her if she told them now?

“I have something to say,” said Tara, addressing Raka. “It’s very important.”

“You had your chance earlier, Tara. I don’t want to hear a single word from you. Now you will listen to what we have to say.”

Tara looked away, her face burning. She blinked back tears, refusing to let him or anyone else have the satisfaction of seeing her cry. Someone coughed loudly, drawing her attention. It was Layla. She mouthed the word suffer and smiled. Tara longed to stick the dagger, which was still in her pocket, into Layla’s heart and twist it.

But the thought of attempting it in front of so many people made her sick. And she knew she’d never succeed.

The crowd swelled and the clearing was at bursting capacity. How could so many people hate her?

Raka stood up and raised his hand. Immediately the villagers became silent. A few children raced up and sat in front of Layla, who was now safely ensconced within the crowd. It would be impossible to get to her and Tara forced herself to drop the idea and focus on Raka. Her heart was working extra hard and she was afraid it would stop beating any moment.

“Thank you all for your patience. We have finally reached a decision.”

Tara clasped her sweaty hands together. Up until this moment her one desire had been to kill Layla. She had not given a second’s thought to her own fate. And now she was about to find out how she would die unless Lord Yama claimed her first. Either way she was doomed; to a painful death or eternal misery in the Underworld.

“Kripan will make the announcement,” said Raka.

Kripan stood up. His eyes travelled the crowd slowly, so slowly that it seemed he was looking at each and every person. Tara wrung her hands. The tight knots in her neck and shoulders ached. She wished he would hurry up.

“We have decided that Tara’s crimes have seriously affected us all; our families, our crops, our very existence,” said Kripan. “That is a grave sin.”

“So what’s the verdict?” someone called out from the crowd.

Kripan looked straight at her. “Tara will be stoned to death.”

“NOOOOO!” someone screeched from the back of the crowd. “You can’t do that to my child!”

Tara’s head whipped round though she knew exactly who had yelled out. “Mother!”

Parvati pushed through the crowd and stumbled into Tara’s arms.

“Oh my poor child,” she said, hugging Tara tight.

A spiraling panic seeped through Tara and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She held on to her mother, wishing she had the power to make time stand still. She didn’t want to die … not by stoning. And definitely not now!

“Parvati, you should not be here,” said Raka. He got off the parapet and came toward them.

“Stay away from my daughter, you senile old man,” screamed Parvati. “You have no idea how wrong you are about this brave child of mine. She wouldn’t harm a fly.”

Raka’s face turned grimmer. He nodded to two villagers close by. “Take her back to my hut and make sure she stays there.”

The men advanced on Tara and her mother. Tara tightened her grip. They caught hold of Parvati’s arms and pulled her away, but it felt as if they had torn Tara’s heart out. Parvati was sobbing like a child. Tara knew that if she cried or showed her despair, it would drive her mother mad.

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.”