‘And in order to do that you must ensure the survival of the Brahmins, together with their Somras libraries,’ he sighed. ‘Many of those Somras-worshipping intellectuals would grab the opportunity to live. But there are some who have heard the call of honour. Kartik, you cannot coerce a man to forsake his honour. You cannot force him to live, particularly if it is to continue the Somras which his Neekanth has declared Evil, and which is causing the destruction of his homeland.’

Kartik held Parvateshwar’s hand. ‘General, my mother appeared in a dream to me. She told me to do the right thing. She told me to remember how she lived, and not how she died. Even you know she would have done exactly what I’m trying to do.’

Parvateshwar looked up at the sky and quickly wiped a tear. He was quiet for a long time. ‘All right, Kartik,’ he said at last. ‘I will bring those people out. I will talk them out where I can, and force them out where I cannot. But remember, they are your responsibility. They cannot be allowed to propagate Evil any longer. Only the Lord Neelkanth can decide the fate of the Somras. Not you, not Lord Gopal, nor anyone else.’

Veerini rapidly walked down the Svarna platform steps as all the assembled people made way for their queen. Maatali’s forces were in charge here, checking the papers and antecedents of everyone who sought to leave the city. The soldiers saluted Veerini. She acknowledged them distractedly but kept walking towards the massive wooden tower being constructed a good four kilometres from the city. That was the base from which the Pashupatiastra missile would be launched.

As she neared the tower, Veerini could see Shiva issuing instructions. She immediately recognised the woman who stood next to him: Brahaspati’s love, Tara. Ganesh was working with Tara, his brilliant engineering skills coming in handy in building the solid tower. Kali sat a little distance away on a rock, seemingly lost in thought.

Kali was the first to see her. ‘Maa!’

Veerini walked up to Shiva as Kali and Ganesh stepped up.

Shiva looked at Veerini with glazed eyes, the now-constant throbbing pain in his brow making it difficult for him to focus. Veerini had always been struck by Shiva’s eyes; the intelligence, focus and mirth that resided in them. She believed that it was his eyes rather than his blue throat that were the foundation of his charisma. But they now reflected nothing but pain and grief, giving a glimpse into a soul that had lost its reason to live.

Shiva had not for a moment suspected that Veerini was involved with Sati’s assassination in any way. He bowed his head and brought his hands together in a respectful Namaste.