Night of the Raven, Dawn of the Dove by Rati Mehrotra

Author:Rati Mehrotra
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group

Katyani suppressed a giggle and tried to keep up with the Acharya’s long strides as they entered the familiar courtyard of the gurukul. Ahead of them, a disciple was stacking wood in the firepit before the main building. Varun was bent over the ground, sprinkling something on it. Sagar stood behind him, holding a basket of fruit. The sacrificial fire. Her stomach churned with a mixture of fear and hope.

“Will it hurt?” she asked the Acharya.

“Yes,” he said. “Prepare yourself.”

Oh, great. As if she hadn’t borne enough torture for an entire lifetime. Had it hurt when Hemlata created the bond? Katyani had no memory of it. Perhaps forgetfulness was a blessing.

Atreyi came forward to meet them, forehead creased in worry. Katyani bowed to her, taking care not to bend too much for fear she would topple over.

“Welcome back, child.” Atreyi laid a hand on her head. “I did not expect to see you again so soon. Consider this your home as long as you need it.”

Tears pricked Katyani’s eyes at the kindness. She blinked them back and tried to smile. “Thank you, Airyaa.”

Atreyi turned to the Acharya. “What happened?”

As succinctly as possible, the Acharya filled her in on the trial, the punishment, and his intervention.

Atreyi put a gentle hand on Katyani’s shoulder and glanced at her back. What she sensed through her spiritual power must have alarmed her. “I need to see to this immediately.”

“The fire first,” rasped the Acharya, cradling his right hand in his left. “Or I might be tempted to chop my hand off.”

The right palm was where the tattoo of the white dove would be. “It’s nothing to do with your hand,” said Katyani. “That’s just the place where it manifests itself. It’s a soul bond.”

“You think I don’t know that?” he snapped. Katyani kept quiet. The bond disturbed the Acharya more with every passing minute. It was forbidden magic, after all, and the Acharya had spent his entire life harping about ethics. The bond must be hurting him at his very core.

Varun hurried up to them. “Acharya, the preparations are complete. I instructed them to use a mixture of sal and sandalwood. Who will light the fire?”

“I will.” The Acharya strode toward the firepit. It had been filled with twigs of fragrant wood. Around it, Varun had constructed a hasty altar, outlining the square with white rice and marigold petals. Sal leaf plates full of fruit, flowers, leaves, and nuts were arranged around the pit. Fast work, thought Katyani. They must be used to the Acharya’s sudden demands.

Varun lit a sandalwood twig and handed it to the Acharya.

“Back away, all of you,” the Acharya commanded. “Not you,” he added in irritation as Katyani made to follow the others.

Daksh and Uttam drew up behind them. “Can I be of any help?” asked Daksh.

“No, you can’t.” The Acharya took a deep breath. “If this incapacitates me for any length of time, I pass the guardianship of the gurukul to my elder son, Uttam, until I recover. Follow him as you would me.

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