‘In Vanyasa, gossip over chai is tradition,’ Idhika said, blowing into her cup. ‘You see, separately, the buffalo milk, the tea leaves and the spices are almost ordinary. But together, over the relentless simmer of a coal-fuelled angithi, they produce a concoction that provides both energy and calmness, a harmony of our contradictory desires.’

Aman had tried the tea at the stall under the yellow neem by his hut, but Sudama’s was worth the journey to the bazaar. He only hoped the mat trader he had tried to deceive wouldn’t show up.

The five of them sat on stone slabs while the other Vanyasis around them talked and laughed over one another. Dogs barked and someone played the sitar, which was only audible during the loud vibratos.

‘I feel odd,’ Aman said. ‘Light-headed. Everything is blurry. I didn’t mention it earlier, but I’ve been this way ever since the fight with the kirtimukha. I was convinced it was because I hadn’t eaten anything. Then I thought it was the smoke in Sanaka’s hut. But it’s only getting worse. My left ear hurts too from where Sanaka pulled me. Should I get myself looked at?’

‘Aman, Chitra has a fix for all problems. This one time many years ago, I ate some stale kheer—’

‘Idhika!’ Prithvi snapped. ‘We’re here now. No one can hear us. Will you please reveal what the letter said?’

‘Yes, yes,’ Idhika said. She paused for a second and then began, ‘I had only moments to read the parchment before handing it over to the acharya.’ They huddled closer to her. ‘I don’t remember the letter word for word, but it was a battle cry for all beasts east of the Varunasmati to find and deliver the Eka of the valley. They are looking for me! And the kirtimukha instead took you,’ Idhika said to Prithvi.

‘Wha—’

‘You’re the Eka?’

‘Yes,’ Idhika said, unable to suppress her smile. ‘It is only a matter of time until Aranyani announces it. I have already started my training.’

‘I knew it.’ Fayza beamed, hugging Idhika.

‘Are you sure? Can you handle the responsibility?’ Ujal said.

Prithvi rolled her eyes at him. ‘She brought us back safely from the Dronagiri woods, didn’t she?’ she said, stealing a glance at Idhika. She remembered the kirtimukha had tried to feed her Madhu and had asked about her Adwaita. ‘But why would anyone want to find the Eka? Whose name was at the bottom of the letter?’

‘. . . Chayan’s. Leader of the Mountain Pishachus and the only yogi who can Atmayog into humans.’

‘The Mountain Pishachus?’ Ujal stopped rolling his joint.

‘They are indigenous to the snow-covered Himalayas. Fear of them has loomed in the valley for as long as one can remember. Unlike their leader, Chayan, none of them has been under the Kalpavriksha, so Atmayog is beyond them. Without reason, every Mahayatra, they attack the Souls going up to find Madhu. They murder without regret and take hostage any they can . . . And what better way to succeed this decade,’ Idhika gulped, ‘than to kill the Eka even before we begin the journey? I am scared. The Mountain Pishachus have never ventured this close to the valley before. From what I recall—’