“She…she’s been through a lot,” I said as I glanced at Sunil.
His mother looked at her son, then at me. After a moment, she nodded stiffly. “Eat. While you do, Sunil will bring you water for your bath and new clothes. See to it, son,” she said as she exited the room.
“Yes, Mother,” Sunil squeaked with his changing voice. He winced at his growing pains, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and began carting up buckets of steaming water, dumping them in a small metal tub just big enough for me to sit in. I savored the delicious soup, fragrant with herbs, full of chunks of meat and hearty vegetables, and peeled off my dirty shirt.
Sunil stayed to scrub my back though I told him it wasn’t necessary. He insisted, saying it was the least he could do after I saved his sister. When I was finished soaping my hair and body, he poured a cold bucket of water over my head and handed me a thin towel to dry off with.
“Thank you,” I said as I wrapped the towel around my hips. “Your mother mentioned something about clothes?”
He scampered off and quickly came back with a thin tunic and a comfortable pajama pant. I pulled on the clothing, tying off the pants, tightening the waist so they’d stay up. He gave me a pair of sandals and a comb for my hair. When I was presentable, I immediately wanted to see Ana, but it was late at night and I heard the lilting hum of a woman softly speaking coming from her room. Instead, I followed Sunil downstairs, where the deep rumble of men’s voices caught my attention.
Immediately upon seeing me, the men’s voices quieted. Ana’s father bade me sit and wasted no time after I did.
“Tell us,” he said simply.
I tugged on my short beard, wondering how much I should tell him. When I considered what I would want to know if it had been my daughter who had been abducted, my decision was made.
“She was sold into slavery,” I said. “I don’t think it was in retaliation for anything against you or your family. There was no talk of that at the compound, and the traders who’d taken her didn’t seem to care who she was or where she came from.”
Anamika’s father swallowed. His mouth was set in a grim line and his eyes were bright. “Then who is responsible for this?” he asked.
“I’m not certain,” I said. “Perhaps a passing trader saw her beauty and knew she’d fetch a good price. Then again, it’s entirely possible that someone with a personal vendetta wanted to harm your family and suggested she be taken. I don’t know which of these is the case, but I promise you, I will find out.”
“There was a trader,” he said slowly. “The man took an interest in Ana and asked if she was already arranged. I did not like how his eyes lingered on my daughter and told him to leave. Perhaps this is the reason.”
“Do you remember his name?”
“No.” He shook his head. “The incident happened too quickly, and I’m afraid I rousted him from my lands before learning more about him.”
“Then, when I am recovered, I will do what I can to discover who he is and where he lays his head.”
“You have done so much already. We are indebted to you, stranger. Please consider our home yours for as long as you like, but as her father, I insist upon taking care of this business myself from now on, as is my right.”
Just then, Ana’s mother came into the room. “If this young man wants to stay and help you find the person responsible, then he stays.”
“We will talk of this later,” her husband said.
“I have said what I said, which means we are done talking. The least you could do is not call him stranger.”
“Has he told me his name that I should use it?”
The man stood and faced his wife, frustration on his face. I sensed their arguing was something common. It reminded me of Anamika. She got her argumentative side from her mother. I sat back and listened to their quibbling with a smile on my face.
“My name is Kishan,” I offered. “Kishan Rajaram.”
“There, you see?” the woman said, shaking a finger at me and then at her husband. “You should thank him properly and use his name now that you know it. In fact, you should be showering him with gold and kneeling at his feet.”
“He doesn’t need to do that,” I began, but I was quickly cut off by Ana’s father.
“I will thank who I will thank and I will use names when I see fit to use them. You do not tell me how to conduct business among men,” he said, his neck turning red. “If I want to kneel and abase myself, I will do so. If I want to give him gold, I will do so. But you will not decide what I do!”
“Bah,” she said and turned her back to her husband but paused at the door. “We cannot dismiss such a man so easily. He brought back our Mika. Does that mean nothing to you?”
The man’s face turned quickly from sour to tender. “Of course it does. It means everything to have her back.” After he said that, he inquired, “Is there any change?”
The woman’s shoulders fell. “Not yet. It’s like she’s waiting for something, but I don’t know what it could be.”
Anamika’s father approached his wife then and touched her shoulder. She fell back against him and he wrapped his arms around her. I pulled out the truth stone and rubbed it between my fingers, something that became a habit of mine on the journey, and was startled to see a soft aura surrounding Ana’s parents. It brightened as they spoke softly together.
I remembered then that the phoenix had said the truth stone would also allow me to see into hearts. It was obvious to me that Anamika’s father and mother loved one another despite their bickering. When she pulled away, he kissed her softly on the forehead and she left. He returned to us, his neck a bit red and his eyes flitted away from mine as if he was embarrassed to have me overhear their exchange.
“My wife is right,” he said. “I have not honored you enough for what you have done.”
“I am happy to have found her.”
The truth stone was still in my hand, and I noticed that the light surrounding Ana’s father had dimmed a bit when he separated from his wife, but it was still there. Curious, I looked at the other men, who I assumed to be relatives or men for hire who had helped in the search. I studied each one in turn and found they all had varying degrees of a bright light surrounding them.
A few were in shades of blue or green—Ana’s parents had been a sunshine yellow—but there was one man who had no light at all. There was nothing outstanding about him. He sat quietly, adding little to the conversation, but there was something about him that was slightly off. It bothered me and I found my eyes turning to him repeatedly.
“Please, you can tell me the truth,” Ana’s father said.
I snapped back to attention. “The truth about what happened?” I asked.
“Yes. We have our suspicions but I’d like to hear it from you.”
Nodding, I let out a small breath and hoped I was right about Ana’s father. Would he be ashamed of her, after knowing what happened? “Do you trust everyone here?” I asked him. “This is a delicate matter.”
“Unquestionably,” he replied.
“Very well.” I leaned forward, placing the stone between my palms and moving it back and forth slowly. “Ana was taken by a caravan of traders and then was given to another band, one that peddles flesh. When I caught up to the first convoy, I managed to get information on the whereabouts of the others. My intention was to barter for her release but I was taken captive myself.
“A kindly slave woman warned me about the man she suspected would buy Anamika. When I was placed on the block, I irritated him enough to get him to buy me as well. It took weeks for me to get into the house where he kept Anamika and the other slave children he bought and even longer to arrange an escape. Once we fled, I not only had Anamika but several other children to take care of. I left them with a generous older couple and took Anamika and left. They gave me supplies, but as you can see, we ran out.”