***

Upon reaching the northern path, Dhanur checked the road up and down, seeing Dekha wasn’t alarming. “So, you wanna tell me what the Dark that was?” she asked.

Janurana didn’t respond and instead bolted up the path, and Dhanur had no choice but to follow. Alongside Dekha’s hooves and her own boots, Dhanur could hear the leather of the ax’s handle squeaking as Janurana squeezed and released it with her trembling hands. Though she was pushing through the splitting headache pain like a proper warrior, it was starting to mount. She stopped again.

“Look. Whatever that was, we probably scared it off for now. I just wanna know what set him off,” Dhanur said.

Janurana slowed to a walk and finally stopped as well, then gathered the courage speak. She squeezed the ax’s handle until Dhanur could’ve sworn she heard the wood itself crack.

“No. It’s not your issue. You can point me in the right direction and you’ll be out of harm’s way,” Janurana said and stared ahead at nothing. Again, she was standing still in the dark. She lurched forward to Dekha, quickly reaching into the bags for her familiar parasol and replacing the ax. “You barely know me.”

“True. But, ugh.” Dhanur rolled her eyes, Janurana winced at her acknowledgement of the truth. “But just ‘cause—Look. I’m not gonna abandon someone Outside! I’m not heartless! If there’s something coming after us, I need to know what it is! Dekha will alarm again if it’s close. But I’ve never seen his light push anything back like that. It’s gone for now, I think. We can talk for a second.” Dhanur placed her hand on Janurana’s shoulder.

Janurana monotonously let the words fall from her lips, almost silent. “It was a spirit.”

“So, it was one? Are you serious?” Dhanur peered down at Janurana who nodded meekly in response. “Dowsing, Light lost, wow. Ok. I didn’t know any survived down here after the fire.” She breathed heavily through her nose, pursing her lips in thought. “Must be a dowsing strong one. Dark.”

Janurana sucked her teeth. “Must you spout such profanity?”

“Alright. Excuuuse me, Kumari.” With an exaggerated bow and huff, Dhanur snatched her drink bag from her belt, and wrung the last few drops from it. They both sighed. “Who is it?” Dhanur continued.

“What?”

“The spirit. Who is it? Wouldn’t haunt you like this if it was just a random person.” Dhanur wiped a drop from her lips.

She turned to look Janurana in the eyes. Even through the few feet of darkness, their sight locked, each seeing into the other.

“It’s, my…” Janurana shivered once more and struggled to continue. With a few quick breaths she steeled her nerves. She snarled at herself and spat out, “it’s my mother.”

Dhanur’s jaw dropped with dawning comprehension. “So that’s why.” She peeked side to side, forgetting for a moment Dekha would alarm them.

“Yes.” Janurana fiddled with her sari and the largest patch on her hips.

“And at the records ya didn’t want to talk about it ‘cause you were Inside now and wanted to get away.”

“Yes, Dhanur,” Janurana said, condescendingly.

“Just thinking out loud. Dark.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Janurana started walking again with Dhanur following and did her best to force out the words. “My mother has been after me ever since I escaped my house’s fall.” Dhanur stayed in step with her, tugging Dekha’s reins for him to follow. “I cannot even remember how I did or when Mother first came for me. For years every time I tried to communicate with her I got silence.” She wrung her parasol.

“Years? You’ve, uh, been out here a while, huh?” Dhanur fisted her hands.

“She… Wants me dead and I don’t know why. When she can’t get to me, she kills others instead. If they get close to me.” Janurana’s hands clenched, her nails almost cutting into her flesh. The well-worn patch on her hips grew heavier.

Dhanur reached out to offer some sort of reassurance. “You think so?” she asked.

“Yes?”

“Okay. I was trying to see if maybe you could be wrong?” Dhanur raised her hands to show she was no threat before retracting them. She lowered her head at her own faulty logic, grumbling and rubbing her neck. “Just tryin’ to—I dunno.”

Janurana’s brow stayed cocked at Dhanur’s flawed but sweet attempt to cheer her up. “I apologize, that is fair. I’m so sorry I got you involved in this. I’m sorry I even said hello to you back in the city. You appeared upper class but not involved with the gwomoni and I thought I wouldn’t have to sleep in the dirt for a time.” She sucked her teeth. “But this always happens.”

“It’s alright.” Dhanur reached for her drink but there was finally nothing left. She sighed as she tied it back to her waist. “I don’t mind.”

“Why?”

“I’m not just gonna abandon someone Outside. That’s not what I should do. How many times do I gotta say that? And I’m pretty tired of sitting on my roof all day, doin’ nothing all the time. And, ugh, you remind me of the Maharaj. Before, ya know…”

“Were you close?” Janurana tilted her head to Dhanur, happily indulging in another topic.

“Yeah.” Dhanur slowed, then stopped. She plugged and unplugged her empty drink bag, then met Janurana’s eyes and quickly averted her own again.

“I understand. I’m sorry.” Janurana leaned and put her hand on Dhanur’s, keeping her from fussing with her drink bag. But she flinched. She was standing still at night once again. “We should keep moving.”

“Oh, yeah. C’mon.” Dhanur gave Dekha a gentle tug and continued down the fairly straight path. “We probably scared her off,” she reiterated assuredly.

“Perhaps. But Mother chose the sigil of a stubborn bull for a reason. It wouldn’t surprise me if she tried charging us again.” Janurana’s posture and tone were dangerously sharp.

“Well, uh, we’ve got ours.” Dhanur tried chuckling, but her head throbbed instead.

“I suppose so. You said you’ve yet to see him do that?”

“Yeah. Ugh. Dowsing.” She rubbed her temple but her head still throbbed. “Yeah. Only ever seen him alarm, ya know, just the light from his eyes and yelling. Never seen his light hurt anything. Most he’s done is charge rompos, vetalas, scorpions, you know. To scare them off. Maybe jump in if I’m getting overwhelmed.”

They both looked back to Dekha, who stared forward unblinkingly, his yellow eyes beacons in the darkness.

“Think I remember Aarushi saying that,” Dhanur continued, “being from a gwomoni he’d hurt spirits more.”

Janurana shook her head at the irony of it all.

Dhanur clutched her stomach. The haze of excitement from their encounter had faded and with drinking so much the past few days, then an entire bag along the way with no food, and poorly sleeping caught up with her. Sprinting off the path, she doubled over, clutched her stomach, and vomited.

Janurana curled her lips to keep herself from gagging. As Dhanur wheezed between the heaves, she rocked on her heels, hands behind her holding her parasol. Patiently, she looked away, flinching as the sound reverberated through the empty night.

“Ah… Ah…” Panting for air, Dhanur steadied herself and straightened up. “Ah think ah…”

“Here.” Janurana tapped a tiny slice of bread on Dhanur’s shoulder. “Little nibbles.”

“Yeah, I… Know.” Dhanur nodded. “Thank you.” Her back popped as she stumbled back to Dekha, one hand fumbling on Janurana’s shoulder to steady herself.

“That was sudden, will you still be able to walk?” Janurana asked.

“I-if we gotta go… I… I… I can go. Can’t let your mom catch up… Even if we’ve got Dekha to keep her… away. Don’t know, uh, what else might, ya know…” She took a deep breath through her nose, slurring her words, and furrowed her brows with determination. She struggled to find Dekha’s reins but Janurana’s delicate fingers batted her away.

“You lean on the bags. I’ll lead him.”

“Y-Yeah. Just uh… Follow the path. Look, if you… Feel bad for, uh…” Dhanur held her stomach and swallowed the flood of saliva that suddenly filled her mouth. “Involving me, too bad. We’re, ya know, stuck now.” Dhanur blinked and cringed at herself, realizing she was putting the blame on Janurana. She took a few bites of her roti in lieu of her drink. “Better to stick together. It’s a bit ‘till we get to…”

“This safe house? How exactly are you familiar with it? You mentioned you should have gone there before.”

“It’s not like I, uh, left on bad ideas or… terms, yeah. Bad terms or nothin’,” Dhanur began, waving her hand, still slurring. She spoke as if Janurana already knew what she was talking about. “It was a normal growing up thing. Like any kid does when they’re old enough.”

“Oh.” Janurana peeked back to show more interest. “Then this temple…”

“Y-Yeah. Yeah. A Light temple, right outside the, um, the gate north. Um… Vatram.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Aw! You were raised in a temple?” Janurana squealed quietly.

“Sh!”

“Yes, yes. But we are moving and this big boy is here to warn us, eh?” Janurana waved her hand to brush off the objection. “That is what he does though, right?”

Dhanur nodded, but Janurana didn’t see. “Wait, did I not say that?”

“You did, you did. I’m only making sure.”

“Ugh. My head.” Dhanur stopped. Dekha halted beside his master and she pressed her knuckles into her temples. “I’ve never seen him push something back like that. Usually he just, ya know, light or alarms.”

“Yes. You said Aarushi had mentioned so.”

“Oh. Yeah. So, don’t get, ya know, comfy or something… Don’t know if it’s a one time… Uh… Wolves…” Dhanur slurred off.

With a sigh Janurana gave Dekha a tug, getting them moving again. She contented herself knowing that at least there won’t be any surprises.

“But yeah, it’s a temple,” Dhanur slurred, speaking with the inane babble of a tired drunk. “He, oh, right, uh my Abbaji, the head Ascetic there. Outside he, yeah, he found me one day outside Vatram under a tree. His name’s Brachen. He’s the guru.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Said he asked, ‘n asked, uh around and no one claimed me. So, he did. Probably older now.” Dhanur half laid on the bags, barely trudging alongside Dekha. She slurred less the more weight she put on him. “He was really kind and always really soft even when he was stern or smiling when he spent time with me. Usually busy with prayers or mantras or something but, ya know.”

“He sounds like quite a marvelous father.” Janurana giggled and smiled, trying to recall her own father’s face, but all she could remember was his beard. But it was worthy of remembrance.

“Heh, yeah…” Dhanur rolled her eyes, barely lifting her head up. “He did everything with me, playing with me, teaching me how to use my bow.”

“That’s the very same one? The one you have now?”

“Yeah?” Dhanur cocked her brow. “I told you how I wrapped it. Didn’t you notice? It’s pretty small, come on. Wait, didn’t I tell you we made it?”

“And what else did you do?” Janurana changed the subject, batting her eyes and ignoring Dhanur’s tone, as if Dhanur could see.

“Uh, we played games and he told me stories. Liked those. He taught me to use my bow. Always said it was good to know how to defend yourself and he practiced his Light barriers or somethin’ like that while I used my bow. He helped me make it…”

“That sounds really very nice,” Janurana said longingly and softly.

“I guess… I’m… Gonna… Just lay here for a bit.” With the last of her might, Dhanur hauled herself onto Dekha’s bags, struggled to get comfortable, and resigned herself to slumping over him like a corpse. “Just follow the path. That’ll lead you to that little mountain in the… Yeah.”

“Understood.”

As Dhanur drifted off to sleep, Janurana’s smile faded. Despite the noise of their conversation, Janurana was happy to have focused on anything other than her mother or the silence of the night. She looked back to her companion, already lightly snoring on her bull’s bags, whose eyes bounced in the dark like a beacon.

Janurana cringed, as if she felt the tension in her back, but it wasn’t there. When she looked further donw the path, she didn’t see a distant shimmer in the dark. No flicker of silvery blue trailed behind them. But there wasn’t a sound to be heard either. She could have sworn she felt something, some kind of pressure.

But Janurana was moving and Dekha could tell her if something was about to attack.

Still, she clutched the rope tighter, making sure Dekha stayed close.

***

The creatures of the Outside steered clear of the enraged aura still lurking about the dying remains of the campfire, as they did whenever the aura was nearby. The last proud flame died and the light’s threshold disappeared with a snap, the embers were smothered and instantly quenched by the night. The darkness reverted to its writhing mystery. The apparition that had nearly claimed Janurana stepped from the tree line. General outlines on its face sharpened to a scowl. As they glared at the dead coals, they dripped with ever more lethality.

In the plane of the spirits, however, Janurana’s mother could be seen as clear as midday.

Her white hair was tied in a tight bun, but it was unkempt and wild with her bangs hanging down, clearly the last of her priorities. It wasn’t white out of age, and she didn’t look to be at her fiftieth summer. But creases and wrinkles marked her unnaturally, like a corpse shriveling up in the dirt. Her faded gray and white muga fell from her like ribbons with only tiny splotches clinging to the brilliant blue it once was and the slightest pattern of a bull still adorning her chest.

She struck a nearby tree, her blue fist making splinters of the bark ricochet around her. The chips she broke off were part of the physical plane and needed time to register that they were hit. They moved in stages, jumping from point to point in the air until they came to rest. She stared at the spent charcoal and gritted her jagged teeth before letting out a scream to rip into the night air. Those on the physical plane could only feel it as painful pressure. She paced, her bare feet kicking up the dust, which stuttered in time much like the wood chips.

“First time, in years. So close. So! Close!” She screamed and kicked a different tree with martial form, again splintering it.

From behind her, a jovial voice emerged, so different from the aging spirit.

“Missed again, eh?” His voice was like a constant chuckle. “My Kumari won’t be easy to catch. How much longer are you going to try?”

She spun to face the voice.

He was the typical southern brown with a full, glorious black beard hiding his smile. The immaculately preserved red clothes he wore were as obvious of his status as his laughably large golden colored headdress and equally enormous stomach, thick as an elephant’s. Unlike the faded bull Janurana’s mother had, his elephant sigil was bright and obvious on his headdress. He looked as normal as any man, not ragged as Janurana’s mother or like the animal headed spirits of Uttara.

“Muli…” she snarled.

“Oh! Janelsa. My love, how my name rests on roses when it falls from your divine tongue.” He bowed with one hand over his heart and the other holding his headdress.

She knelt at the fire’s remains and scowled deeply as she raked her fingers softly through the ash. Replaying the bull’s attack in her mind, her face twisted even further. As she pondered, an errant fleck of still burning coals from deep in the pile grazed her fingertip. Janelsa hissed in pain, leapt back, and groaned as she watched the new skin quickly reform over the fresh boil.

“Urah!” She ran her sharpened nails across her scalp in frustration, unable to remember the exact way back to the trail. “She probably took another route. She would do that.”

“Who can say? You very clearly only want to give your daughter a hug. No idea why she’d run away. Almost like when I—” Muli stepped forward, tapping his chin before Janelsa whipped around with an accusing finger just about touching his nose.

“She’s half mine. Stop taking credit for every minutely intelligent thing she’s done. Do it once more and I swear!”

“I’m just saying that she’s making her Abba proud. You could never catch me. She must have learned a thing or two.”

Janelsa had no response. As infuriating as it was, she couldn’t deny the iota of pride at her daughter’s resilience.

“You’re clearly so proud of her skills. Makes no sense this vendetta you have,” Muli continued.

“No!” she snapped back, arm rising, claws extending. “I won’t leave my Shzahd to pollute the name Malihabar as a gwomoni!”

But before she could connect her strike, Muli vanished. No pomp, no ceremony, simply gone in the blink of an eye.

“Get that through your head already…” Janelsa sighed.

Before she could hear his voice again she went back to the fire, examining its edges for Dhanur and Janurana’s footprints in the dust and grass.

She looked up, seeing a wisp of smoke above the dead fire.

In a powerful burst, Deiweb materialized from the smoke, standing directly over the fire’s remains. Janelsa jumped to her feet, snapping into a battle stance. At first she grabbed the air by instinct as if holding a two handed weapon, then spread out to bare her claws.

“Why, hello! I saw your stumbling down there and, you poor thing, you were hilariously close. I didn’t know oxen did that here.” Deiweb teased as he descended his invisible staircase to stand in the dirt at her level.

“They don’t.” Janelsa kept her stance, but her tone calmed. “And spirits don’t come this far south anymore.”

“Ha! Don’t ever call me one of you.” Deiweb lowered his head to a vicious glare.

“You don’t look affected by the fires.” Janelsa tried to stay nonplussed, but she couldn’t hide the few fearful twitches in her fingers.

“I’ve created quite a stir in this part of the realm, haven’t I?” He scoffed, admiring his work and examining the grass singeing under his feet. “Made it quite hard for spirits like you to exist down here. You must be special to even set foot on this land.”

“You aren’t a denizen of my plateau.” Janelsa stood upright, perplexed.

Deiweb’s attention had turned to the trees, just exploring his surroundings. “Verily,” he said. Janelsa raised one eyebrow and Deiweb scowled in annoyance “It means obviously, obviously. Now!” He clapped his hands. “I saw you following that young girl outside the city. Curious, until I saw what happened.”

“Why would you care?”

“I don’t, not really. I’ve been called here to help with a bit of a problem is all, it being that girl.”

“By whom?” Janelsa’s tone hardened again.

“No need to get territorial. Besides, what does it matter? I’d much rather have you deal with it. I’m getting quite bored and you seem so passionate. So, how about this?” Deiweb reached into his shirt, slowing as Janelsa returned to her battle stance. “Testy.”

He slowly extended his hand, ensuring she saw there was no weapon concealed within, but a tiny black feather. Free, it rose from his palm and grew to a normal size. It hovered over his hand and circled in place.

“I will give you this, and you continue with what you were doing,” he said.

“Why would I take that?” Janelsa curled her brow in confusion.

“Because it will tell you exactly the way to Janurana.” He flicked his thumb, knocking the feather into the air, and sent it to her with a gentle breath that reeked of smoke.

She watched it float from side to side down to her open palm. “I don’t need the help. I can track her fine.” Janelsa dropped her arm and stormed past Deiweb.

He held up his hands, exaggerating his jump out of her path. “Really?” he asked. “Because it appears to me like you just failed. And you’re certainly not a new spirit. Perhaps some help would be useful.” When Janelsa didn’t stop, Deiweb crossed his arms. “Oh, I’m sure the three hundredth time will be the charm, Janelsa Malihabar, ruler of the plateau.”

Janelsa slammed to a stop. “How?”

“I know many things. As does this feather.” Deiweb plucked it as it spun over the ground. He blew off any errant dust. “Those times you failed to catch her, when she fled into her first city, when a Light follower sent you back, or all the times you simply lost her trail when she doubled back or crossed a canyon only for you to spend days if not weeks searching for it again. Don’t you think you deserve a break after so, so long? Isn’t it beneath the great conqueror who brought the whole south to heel, who made the northern clans her vassals, to scuttle in the dirt?”

Janelsa was still, her expression hadn’t moved an inch.

“That’s what I thought. This will make your life that little bit easier. Mine too! We all win! Just say the name of the person you want to find.” Deiweb held out his hand.

Janelsa curled her brow further. Her apprehension screamed at her to give the feather back. It wasn’t simply accepting something from a strange man in the forest. He exuded a fundamentally distressing aura beyond his cocksure smirk.

She refused to listen. Janelsa spun and snatched the feather from two delicate fingers. Once again it floated on her palm and she gave it a gentle spin.

“Janurana Malihabar,” Janelsa whispered.

Half expecting the feather to attack, she recoiled when it spun wildly before slamming to a halt. Rigid, it didn't move even as she poked it. She swayed her hand from side to side, marveling as it continued to point in a single direction.

“Don’t worry. It knows,” Deiweb said.

“What do you want?”

“I told you, just for you to continue! I’m bored with this. Go have fun.” Deiweb bowed with his hand out. “It’ll shrink when you put it away. To your health.”

He waved and disappeared as quickly as he came, transforming to a wisp of smoke again. Janelsa stared at the last place she had seen him before he vanished, a last tendril of smoke chasing after him into the sky. She curled her lips as she bounced her hand up and down and warred with herself in her mind, unwilling to let such a useful tool go.

“I wouldn’t,” Muli cautioned from behind.

“You certainly wouldn’t.” She bounced the feather again, decisively.