Page 90 of The Burning Mountain
Vihari was already close, answering Veer’s earlier summons, a dark speck at the edge of the horizon. His wings flapped as he made his swift way toward them.
His characteristic warble caught the monster’s attention. It swiftly dived into the ocean again and rose up even closer,stretching as far up above the ocean level as his body would allow, rearing back in an unmistakably aggressive stance toward the bird, forgetting about retreat.
Vihari was no longer a regular-sized mountain kite. He had increased his proportions without any prompting from Veer. His wingspan was large enough to block whatever meager light was left in the sky. He swung down from the heavens, razor-sharp claws extended, aiming for the monster’s eyes.
The answering swiftness of the Makara surprised Veer. It dodged the attack, plunging into the ocean to rise up again, right behind where Vihari hovered, fangs gleaming with poison. It caught the edge of the kite’s wings before Vihari was able to dodge the attack.
Veer felt a ripping pain in his shoulder and went down to his knees. His shirt bloomed red with blood. His vision swam as poison entered his blood. When he maintained a connection at this level, what happened to the animal also happened to him.
“Increase your connection with your kite, Veer.” Virat’s urgency cut across his foggy consciousness. “This is not even scratching the surface. If you don’t, we will all die.”
“Are you crazy?” Shota called indignantly. “Veer will take the brunt of whatever injuries the sea serpent inflicts on the bird. He already has a poisoned wound to contend with and now you’re asking to increase connection.”
“Trust me, Vihari can do better. You are a powerhouse, Veer. That has always been your greatest strength. Increase the connection. Feed him your power. Vihari’s magic is not enough to harm the serpent, but with your power he can do it.”
Veer felt someone catch him under his armpits, helping him stand. Helpers tore open the shirt and applied one of the poultices to leach out the poison.
“Don’t listen to him, Veer,” said Shota in a low voice. He turned to Virat, scowling. “Can’t you see he is in no shape to doany of that? Honestly, this is just like you. Luring him into more trouble and asking for help. If you’re here to aid us, then why don’t you use more of your powers? Is this everything Maayavi, or whatever you call yourself now, can do?”
Veer laid a restraining hand on Shota’s shoulder, his vision clearing a bit as the poison left his body. “I’m not done yet, Shota,” he wheezed.
Shota subsided into a grim silence, his eyes still shooting daggers at Virat.
“I see time hasn’t changed your personality much, Shota,” said Virat, his lack of inflection stealing the bite from his words. “You’re as much a dried-up stick-in-the-mud as always. Is it jealousy I hear? Because I was closer to Veer than you ever were? But all right, I concede your point. It’s time I show what wizard Maayavi is capable of.”
Bhupathi, who had been standing by the harpoons, spoke. “If you all agree, I think with a three-pronged attack, we can finish the monster.” He explained what he meant when he took a strong length of rope and made more cuts on his arm. Bhupathi wet the rope with his blood and attached it to a harpoon.
Sea spray and a stinging rain had already soaked their clothes to the skin. A cold came from the sweeping gusts of wind, seeping into their bones. And yet every man worked tirelessly at their duties, readying themselves for another attack.
Veer poured his power into his kite, opening their connection wide. Vihari obliged. His size increased and his wingspan, massive enough to cover the entire ship now. Veer felt weightless. His vision shifted into dual points of view. The pain in his shoulder was a fierce burn now, but with the healing stone Shota had placed on the wound, he was able to keep the debilitating pain at a bay.
Vihari launched himself at the monster once again.
The sky above rumbled as it darkened further. A funnel of low pressure forming right above them.
A golden line split the dark night, the harpoon sailing through the gale. Instead of striking the monster, it soared right past it, trailing a bright rope behind it.
The harpoon flew in an arc, then looped twice in a circle as the rope lassoed itself around the monster’s neck, who, busy fending off attacks from Vihari, didn’t seem to notice until too late.
The rope suddenly pulled taut, forming into a noose. Men on both ships held the two ends of the rope, tightening it and not letting the monster escape. Veer was back on his feet feeling better. His arm glowed red as he lent them a hand, his superior rakshasa strength giving them aid. The ship pitched widely, and as the monster struggled, the noose tensed.
A line of red appeared around the serpent’s neck. Veer narrowed his eyes, his kite’s augmented vision providing him with more details. The blood Bhupathi had soaked into the rope was manifesting tiny knives, woven into the fibers, almost like sharp teeth, giving the noose a serrated edge that sawed through the creature’s neck. The tighter the snare, the deeper the knives cut. The monster flailed, unable to get free from the rope.
Veer whipped his head around to watch Prince Bhupathi, who stood concentrating hard, the mark of Amarendra glowing gold and bright on his forehead.
So, this was the power of one who mastered all seven chakras. The ability to weaponize objects with their blood.
In war or combat, the one who mastered the true extent of the goddess-bestowed powers would never be without a weapon. No wonder his wife worked toward that goal with a single-minded determination.
The storm rose in strength. Lightning struck again, but now it left large, blackened flesh wounds on the Makara. Fireerupted, courtesy of Vihari, and it seemed to burn through the scales to get at the delicate tissue underneath.
The monster screamed in agony at the triple attack. It was slower now to dodge the talons and beak of the kite, which left long wicked scratches along the torso and underbelly.
In a final assault, Vihari caught hold of the serpent’s neck in its beak. Already weakened by the magical rope around it, it snapped. The monster writhed and gave its last breath.
Virat sent up a flash, strong enough to render the body of the serpent, from just below its mouth to across its belly.
Flesh opened and chunks of muscle splashed into the sea. The air smelled of burning sinew. The iron tang of blood hung thick and suffocating in the breeze. The rest of the monster’s huge carcass fell into the ocean with a massivesplash, almost tipping over their ships.
