Manasa hadn’t cried the day her brother died. They had promised, no matter what happened to each other, they wouldn’t shed tears. They’d be strong and they’d fight back. And Manasa had been doing that ever since Vasuki’s assassination. It was a clear plot by Kali, in which he had been assisted by Kuvera and Vedanta. But now, after what she had witnessed yesterday, not the suspended machine, but the submissive nature of the Yaksha and Manav king, she was certain of one thing. They were afraid of speaking out against Kali, as if they knew what he was capable of. They didn’t want to speak against him in front of him, but Manasa knew they might be plotting to kill him the first chance they got.

Manasa was callous about apprehending the prisoner, that village boy. It was her way of showing she wouldn’t take domination from Kali lying down meekly. She didn’t care who the prisoner was. Clearly, though, he was important to Kali and that intrigued Manasa more than the mundane court proceedings.

She knew she had to do something about Kali. But perhaps, she has to take Kuvera and Vedanta on her side. The problem was, Kuvera no matter what, wouldn’t even talk to Manasa properly, let alone side with her. The battle between the Yakshas and the Nagas was ancient, going back several hundred years. There was no start to why they hated each other, but Kuvera had done a spiteful thing to Manasa’s tribe by stealing their Mani, which the tribe valued the most.

Manasa was sitting on the pedestal, her robes pooling over the ground while shadows formed over the walls. Manasa knew that Vasuki’s death would mean most of the nobles in Naagpuri would be fighting over the Chief status. She had to return and fight for Vasuki’s honor.

Should she fight or should she take revenge? It was most confusing. Manasa rested her functioning hand over her temples, thoughtfully musing, when she heard a sound. It was of falling dust and bricks. Her eyes darted, hand whipping towards the dagger that she had sheathed from her belt, pointing it towards the enemy, who had appeared from the window.

Lanky and slender in posture, the figure was familiar by the shawl that concealed the face, and her telltale silver hair. It was none other than her spy and assassin, Padma. The silver hair was knotted on top and a pouch sagged from her girdle where she kept all her antique currencies. She had sharp daggers sheathed and hanging from her waist and thighs.

“You could have sent me a note to inform me that you were coming. You didn’t have to hide and enter, darling.” Manasa smiled weakly at Padma.

“I’m practicing.”

For what, is the question. Padma was a determined girl, reminding Manasa about herself when she was young and keen to be a warrior. Unlike the Rakshas, who tamed their women, the Nagas had their equality priorities straight. They believed women should learn warfare as much as men. But Manasa, regardless of her zesty attitude, was left behind because of her handicap.

Manasa sighed, realizing Padma was in angst. “What is wrong?”

“I was there yesterday. At the trial,” Padma said.

“I didn’t see you. You shouldn’t be seen with that hair of yours anywhere,” said Manasa, pointing to her eccentric hair.

“I was the one steering the chariot,” she said.

The chariot was a deft presentation of science and magic. She still could not understand how it was possible. But Padma, by the looks of it, had no intention of speaking about it.

“I know it was all very shocking and nice, but that’s not my concern. I want you to know that I have done what you asked of me,” Padma said.

“What?”

“I burnt down Kali’s lair, the one where he holds the herbs.”

Manasa stood up, elated by Padma’s words. She wanted the hug the urchin, but then she was too dirty for it.

“Dear me! Well done, darling.”

She had heard that after the trial and the mishap, Kali’s anger had grown worse when he realized something had gone amiss in the other side of the city, which he held dear. It wasn’t clear, but his steps were brisk and he escaped rather than discussing much about the turbulence. Vedanta and Kuvera talked to each other and while Manasa eyed them, Kuvera turned back and he didn’t have his annoying, triumphant smirk anymore. He was frowning. And he was afraid.

No matter how much she despised Kali, who had become sullen and ugly, she would congratulate him for taming Kuvera properly.

“But they were not herbs. They were stones,” she said, arching her brows, now walking thoughtfully. “Blue in colour, just like a mani or a sapphire.”

“Naagmani?”

“What is that?”

“Powerful gifted stones by Lord Shesha,” Manasa said. “They were hardly ever found by our people and the one we did find is kept safely in our temple.”

Padma shook her head as if her thoughts had muddled. “I don’t know about all of that. I just thought of telling you I did my duty.”

“For more gold coins? I brought them…” Manasa reached for a pouch when Padma’s voice interjected her.

“No. I don’t want any fancy coins anymore. I want something else.”

Manasa swivelled her head. “Yes, dear?”

“I want to know what Vedanta holds most dear.”

Manasa stayed still, contemplating. Padma did all of this for a reason. She was after Vedanta. She didn’t reveal it then and even now her implication was far from direct.

“And what do you intend to do with it then?” Manasa gently prodded.

“That’s my concern.” She remained impassive.

Manasa knew she could send off Padma and if successful, she could cripple Vedanta, just like she had done earlier.

“All right,” Manasa nodded. “Her name is Urvashi, his only daughter.”

Padma smiled back at Manasa, before leaving by the window. The smile was of acknowledgment. She didn’t care to listen about the plans. And by the Gods, if she succeeded, Manasa would have one less headache. If she didn’t, Manasa would have to find another spy for herself.

Manasa had been summoned for the council meeting late at night. It was odd that her sleeping hours were replaced by working hours. But with two Naga soldiers on her side, she proceeded to the chambers where the meetings usually took place, in the government building. Manasa realized as the doors were opened; that the entire place, though lit by fire torches, had not a soul. Surprised, she walked further ahead, where the slab of rock used as a table was placed.

It was empty. Completely isolated!

What was going on here?

And that was when she turned over to find her two guards with swords were plunged into their hearts and their throats ripped out. It was so sudden that Manasa didn’t have the time reconcile herself with the sight of horror, slipping over her robes and staggering over the floor, as she realised that the killers of her men were none other than the two humans, who had been forgiven at the trial and asked to serve in King Vedanta’s army.

This was another ploy.

And then one of the Manavs shot a dagger across the room, towards Manasa. Realizing she had nowhere to go and nowhere safe to hide, she let put her hand in front of her, trying to block the eventual annihilation.

But nothing happened. The soldiers were puzzled. As Manasa opened her eye, watching them, she realized the dagger had stuck into her limp hand, the one without any nerves in it.

Instantly, Manasa pulled out the dagger from her hand and threw it back, this time sliding it into the Manav’s head with ease. The other one came charging at her, yelling as loud as he could, but Manasa rolled over, confusing the soldier. She pulled out her snake-hilt dagger and sliced the soldier’s knee. He fell on his knees and then Manasa stabbed the soldier in his back, twisting hard.

Manasa stood up, letting her heartbeat calm down as she casually made her way outside the gates. She stood in the ornate corridor, watching the other end of the corridor; where Koko, Vikoko and a few other Manav soldiers stood, trying their best to ensure she did not escape this encounter alive.

Kali was trying his best to kill her.

Perhaps it was about the trial, and how Manasa had defied him at every stance. He wanted her to act like Kuvera and Vedanta.

Servile and submissive.

But she wouldn’t budge. Slowly, in the shadows, she glided away from the corridor, moving to the exit. While Koko and Vikoko would have realized by now that she had defeated her assassins, they wouldn’t realise she knew the alternate ways out of this building as well. But as she came to the path that led to the different exit for the building, she saw it was locked.

Just then, she heard the rapid footsteps of the soldiers on the floor above, probably spreading out to look for her. She knew she had to do something. She reached for the window, concealed by thick, purple curtains. She touched the edges and looked down. It was a beautiful sight of Indragarh, heavily guarded and patrolled by her own men. She looked down and could see the undulating waves on a waterbody’s surface.

“She’s here!” a soldier called out.

Oh by the heavens and hells!

Manasa shoved herself down the window. She splashed down into the water, like a heavy sack of grains. For a moment her body felt helpless, her view blocked by weeds and fishes, her eyes burning in the filthy water until she pulled her head out of the water, gasping for breath.

She began to swim; realizing Koko and Vikoko hadn’t stopped there. They shot arrows wrapped with oiled cloth that they lit and shot into the water. One of them fell close to Manasa, but she avoided it and swam awasy as quite as possible, reaching for the shore. She rested against the shore, her hair weighed down by the greasy and dirty water.

She knew she couldn’t stay here. The best option was to run and run where she would be safe. Manasa knew that threatening Kali, and defying him, would have logically led to this. But she never knew he would have the guts to do it in the open. He was a changed man and for the worse.

Back at her city, Naagpuri, she didn’t even know how things were; she had been away for a while now. She had left her trusted cousin Kadru back there to look over things. I hope everything is still all right. There were many out there that hated her, but many loved her too.

She knew what she had to do now, as she panted for breath, a frown contorting her face. She would return again to Indragarh. And this time, she wouldn’t come back alone.