Page 52 of The Burning Mountain
23
A PRESENT FROM THIANVELLI REACHES SUMEDH
Chandra sat on the terrace of her uncle’s mansion in Sumedh, trying to soak up the little remaining sunlight as a crow pecked through the food placed on a banana leaf. She watched its beady eyes and wondered if there was any truth to the superstition that their ancestors took the form of crows to partake of the offerings.
She pulled up her knees and rested her chin on them. A sea breeze blew gently, making the surrounding coconut trees sweep their long fronds over the parapet wall of the terrace. The sky became heavy with clouds, dulling the afternoon sun. Her heart felt similarly heavy with sadness.
She had been counting it as success, that for several days now, she hadn’t thought of the tragedy that occurred in Thianvelli. But today appeared to be an exception.
She was heartbroken at Matangi’s death, guilt festering that she never had the chance to apologize to Maruthi before they left.
Equally burdensome was Chandra’s sadness since learning of Queen Gauri Devi’s death, and what the queen had announced to the crowd.
She wanted to be impressed that Gauri Devi had given her people a last desperate hope that all was not lost. But mostly, she was horrified that the former queen had chosen to do so in such a fashion that resulted in her being burned alive.
She lifted a hand to dash her tears and her fingers encountered the raised edge of the scar her cheek now sported.
Thanks to Veer’s healing stone and Dhatri’s skill of working with the finest needle and thread—along with the liberal use of opium—her cheek had healed to a thin white scar instead of an obvious one. On some days, she could fool herself into believing that people only noticed when they got close.
One more scar to add to her collection.
She wondered what Veer thought about it, since she could no longer claim to be beautiful. But try as she might, she couldn’t decipher his thoughts. He felt something when he focused on the scar; something strong, she just didn’t know exactly what.
She similarly couldn’t deduce how he felt about failing in his mission to free Aditya. He seemed not to care, and that puzzled her, from what she knew about him.
The quest came with challenges, she understood and accepted that. But she didn’t anticipate the personal responsibility she would feel about their failures. Or that so many deaths would weigh on her conscience.
For the umpteenth time she questioned why King Amarendra chose to dismantle the key and hide it. Wouldn’t it be better served for future generations if it were left whole and intact?
A hand fell on her shoulder, bringing her out of her musings. “You seemed like you were far away, Chandra. I was calling your name for several minutes.”
Chandra straightened and gave a wan smile, wiping her tears surreptitiously. Her aunt came to sit beside her on a small stone platform on the terrace. From here, they had a nice view of thecomings and goings on the street. Beyond the city, the constant rumble of the ocean formed a soothing background noise.
“What nice weather,” commented her aunt.
Chandra glanced up dubiously at the dark clouds obscuring the sun. Her aunt laughed. “It will not rain today,” she pronounced, the laugh lines beside her mouth deepening in amusement.
Chandra didn’t dispute her. Sumedh’s citizens had an uncanny ability to predict the weather. She just wished her aunt could foresee when the clouds would lift from her own mood.
Her aunt, a woman of middle years with graying hair, passed her a handful of roasted peanuts.
“I won’t ask what’s bothering you, Chandra,” she said, staring out toward the sea. “I understand it’s something you can’t tell me. All I’m going to say is that I’m here if you need a shoulder to cry on.” Chandra found her family’s faith in her a sharp contrast to her life in Amaravathi, with her father’s side of the family.
The silence was strangely comforting. Chandra felt glad her aunt wasn’t asking her questions. All she wanted was some quiet to sort out her mind, and her aunt seemed to realize that. Unexpectedly, she felt her eyes prick with tears once again.
She was so sick of moping and wondered how others put up with her gloomy attitude.
But there was a reason she felt most at home here—in her uncle’s house. She had feared that her happy childhood memories would be tarnished when seen through the eyes of the adult she had become, but was relieved to find that wasn’t the case. Her uncle was still the generous, indulgent elder from her childhood and her aunt and cousins were the same open, nonjudgmental people.
A bangle seller’s voice, hawking his wares, boomed across the street as he turned a corner.
“I know you want some peace and quiet, Chandra, but would you mind if I call for the bangle seller? He comes once every six months, and I don’t want to miss him.”
“Of course, Aunt, please go ahead.”
Her aunt leaned across the parapet wall and hollered down the street, instructing the seller to come up to the terrace.
Chandra watched, her interest caught reluctantly as the seller carefully unwrapped his wares and displayed the colored bangles. Her heart gave a sudden pang of longing for the days when she used to try on bangles with her friends. She wondered if Kalpana, Girish, and Sarun had reached Rajgarh safely.
