(Book 4) Hayden Mackay and The Fest of Vrindahina

27.2 Quid Pro Quo

"What?" Pruthvi asked, blankly. "What did you say?"

"The tomb," she replied, sniffling and then faltered. Even after receiving a lot of money from him she still kept her mouth shut for a long time.

Pruthvi sucked his anxiousness that restrained his impatience. "Look here now, woman," he said, his teeth clenched and a finger pointing at her as a sign of a warning, "My friend once asked me to respect you keeping your age in mind and I am trying my best to respect his words. Don't force me to cross my limits, alright?" He hastily detached two more notes and then continued, "Now, tell me. What is this tomb you are talking about?"

"There are only three people, apart from the Samagraha, who cannot die a normal death," Zarina said, staring at that money which was driving her to move her mouth fluently, "One is Shaytan Rup and the other is Shashi Thribhuvan."

Pruthvi gaped at her apprehensively, his heart beginning to drum. "Shashi cannot die? Then why...."

"He is an advanced dark magic user who accomplished in performing Atmavyuha."

"Atmayukta?" Pruthvi asked, just to make it clear if she was talking about the dark magic he was familiarized with.

"Atmavyuha," she repeated, stressing on the word, "The one you are talking about is where the soul is rested in one's body. And the one I am talking about - the soul through this magic attains the power to take over someone's body."

"What the hell!" Pruthvi exclaimed loudly, feeling his body ripped apart as if a nuclear bomb had exploded in his heart, "So you mean Shashi is in..."

He gasped, his brain functioning tremendously that he thought for once it gave him an attack of a nervous breakdown. He kept the bundle aside on the rock and immediately bend over to pull up his bag. He began to rummage all through the bread packets and then found it beneath all the stuff feeling pleased with himself for not taking it out. He unfolded it-the crinkled painting of King Harsha and the person being called Yodhin Ojha by everyone. He lifted it up to show directly to her and asked, "Is Shashi in his body?"

Zarina's mouth slightly fell open. "Where did you find that?"

"Answer my question," Pruthvi demanded, throwing a few notes at her, "Did Shashi take over his body?"

Zarina nodded gruffly.

Pruthvi sighed, keeping his mind intact with the information he was receiving. He dropped the paper in the unzipped bag and asked, "So what's up with the tomb?"

"Every dark magic has to have a flaw, a loophole, that is its policy. For Shashi to keep transferring his soul from one body to another, his original body is required to be preserved. Once in a while, it is essential for the soul to return to the original body which is right now lying safe in a tomb, made by the one who invented this kind of dark magic in Paramarashtra. No one else unless possessing the immense physical power can destroy it. No one has ever born with such power. And now Shashi believes, it is you."

"So the prized possession is his own body," Pruthvi concluded, intentionally breathing heavily to calm his nerves down.

Zarina creased her wrinkled forehead, probably wondering how he was aware of terms - prized possession. She nodded and on receiving money she continued, "Shashi chose this temple to hide his tomb. Shaytan Rup has been guarding it ever since they met. In the months of the Fest, when the dark magic doesn't work, he takes it and guards it himself."

"What is the tomb made of that it cannot be destroyed by anyone else?"

And the answer was too instant. "The wood of Vrindahina."