“Only a corpse,” I breathed.
“A corpse? What a common thing!” huffed the body. “Have you never seen a vetala?”
Vikram stared, his jaw slack. “Those are only supposed to exist in cremation grounds.”
“Very good!” croaked the creature. “Cremation grounds are the best place to steal bodies. As one does when one is just incorporeal evil.”
I knew very little of vetalas. Maya refused to share stories about them, for fear of giving me nightmares. I knew they stole bodies and fed on souls, but nothing else.
The vetala swung upside down from the tree, pale and decaying knees locked to the branches. Behind him, folded and what I’d first mistaken as a cloak, were a great pair of wings.
“Admiring them, are you?” he asked, twisting his neck all the way around. “Pity they are nothing more than ornamentation. But I couldn’t bear to be parted from them. They add style to decay. What afterlife is worth living without some beauty, wouldn’t you agree?”
The vetala looked me up and down, and sniffed. “Perhaps you wouldn’t.”
Vikram moved closer to me. Which didn’t seem wise, given my last thought.
“What do you want, creature?” he demanded.
“A body with more cartilage would be nice,” exclaimed the creature. “Would you be willing to give me yours?”
“No,” said Vikram.
“Perhaps I might have your wife’s instead?”
“I am not his wife.”
“Unmarried? Perhaps you might like to be my wife? Mine was most unfortunately beheaded by villagers. No one quite understood her humor.” The vetala sighed. “Ah, Putana … your breasts may have been filled with poison, but they were delightfully plump.”
Vikram crossed his arms. “Have you been sent here to spy on us?”
“Why would I waste immortality on you?” laughed the vetala. “I only decided to speak up to offer some advice. Best give that non-wife of yours a bite of your arm. That’s rakshasi fruit in her hand. The want alone will devour you. But she’ll be fine. It’s all temporary. Like any rage. Difficult to avoid the temptation though. I’m surprised she has not eaten you yet. She was musing about it.”
“Wait, what?” said Vikram.
“Rakshasi fruit?” I said. “As in … demon fruit?”
“Did you actually want to eat me?”
“Calm down, I wasn’t going to follow through with it.”
He raised an eyebrow, as if to say: You tried to kill me earlier today.
“The ashram archives said there was nothing left of demon fruit. That it had simply stopped growing in the human world.”
“Pah. Sages are fools,” said the vetala.
Vikram peered a little closer at the demon fruit stuck to my hand. “I never imagined it would look so—”
“—beautiful? Burnished? Bright as hope? Golden as first love?” trilled the vetala. “You boy things are all the same. You think a demoness fruit will be horned and bloody, with a rind of thorns and flesh like iron nibs. Have you never been in love? Ah, love! Never has hell and heaven produced such a fine fruit. All demon in its soul. So gilded in its form. Like a woman at her ripest.”
“What does it do?” I asked.
“For a short time, it grants the eater demon-like powers. Increased size, strength, that kind of thing,” said Vikram. “But it doesn’t explain why the vanaras think I could’ve stolen it. It’s impossible for me to use the fruit. It only answers to women. Some say it was grown from the willing heart of a demoness.”
“The boy is leaving something out,” sang the vetala.
“What is it?”
Vikram didn’t meet my eyes. “If rakshasi fruit is eaten at the wrong place and wrong time, the woman who eats it could possibly … eateveryonearoundher.”
“Is that so? At least I’d be rid of you.”
His eyes widened. “You choose now to make a joke? You are joking. Right? Gauri?”
I said nothing. The vetala cackled. Vikram took a small step away from me.
“Why would the vanaras be growing this?” he asked. “They don’t have a queen anymore to lead an army. And from what I saw of the city, it’s been abandoned ever since Queen Tara disappeared.”
“That’s not why they keep the fruit,” trilled the vetala. “They’re just tending their ghosts. What you hold in your hand, dear girl, is Queen Tara’s curse. And that is why, dear boy, your plan to spin the vanaras a tale of lies and win your freedom will never work. Not now! Not ever! We can spend the rest of eternity together. What fun.”
“Stay silent or I will cut out your tongue,” I hissed at the creature.
“Not my tongue!” said the vetala. “What fun would I be? And besides, if I had no tongue, who would tell you how to escape? I’m the only one who knows.”
“You know how to get back to the human world?”
The vetala swayed. “Human world? You can’t go back there if you eat the demon fruit. Wherever it is eaten, that is the world you are stuck in for at least one turn of the moon.”
The choice loomed before me: Eat the fruit, stay in the Otherworld and potentially die here, or don’t eat the fruit and certainly die here.
I hesitated. “You’re lying.”
“My dear, I am showing myself down to my bones! For you, I have bared my heart. Or what’s left of it, rather.” He swayed in his tree, flashing a mouthful of blood-claggy teeth. “There is nothing of me which you do not see.”
“Why are you even in this cell?”
“A little monkey wandered into my cremation ground. And I ate him! Pity he turned out not to be a monkey. Oh, but I was fed for days upon days upon days.”
Vikram crossed his arms. “What did you mean that the demon fruit is Queen Tara’s curse?”
The vetala eyed us slyly. “That is what she grew from loving too much. She loved her consort and he loved her. But a group of courtesans slew him and two other kings. Instead of letting her love become a phantom ache, she clung to it until it grew a thick and impenetrable hide. It is said that one of the kings had grievously injured the sister of the courtesans. But the king was innocent! Then again, who cares? No one ever mourns the innocently killed! What does your realm call them? Ah, yes. Casualties. As if taking a life is an informal thing. Like a yawn or a laugh.” The vetala swayed and laughed. “No one would avenge her husband. No one cared. So she grew her own vengeance. Cut out her heart to nourish it, stole bones to prop it up against the elements, coaxed it to bear fruit with her tears. And she forced it upon others, to eat of her fruit and partake of her vengeance. And to bring down all the kingdoms who denied her justice. Ah, but how much blood must you guzzle before time breaks you of your sorrow? Bad queen. Bad bad bad. For her greed, she is cursed until a kiss falls upon her stony brow.”
“How much of that is true?”