He keyed the lock and opened the door. Kolabati sat facing him from a living room chair, her arms and legs crossed, her face impassive. As he smiled and stepped forward, something crunched under his foot. He looked down and saw the shattered rakoshi egg. A thousand thoughts hurtled through his shocked mind, but the one that leaped to the forefront was: How much does she know?

“So,” he said as he closed the door behind him. “You know.”

“Yes, brother. I know.”

“How—?”

“That’s what I want to know!” she said sharply.

She was being so oblique! She knew the egg had hatched. What else did she know? He didn’t want to give anything away. He decided to proceed on the assumption that she knew only of the empty egg and nothing more.

“I didn’t want to tell you about the egg,” he said finally. “I was too ashamed. After all, it was in my care when it broke, and—”

“Kusum!” Kolabati leaped to her feet, her face livid. “Don’t lie to me! I know about the ship and I know about the Westphalen women!”

Kusum felt as if he had been struck by lightning. She knew everything!

“How… ?” was all he could manage to say.

“I followed you yesterday.”

“You followed me?” He was sure he had eluded her. She had to be bluffing. “Didn’t you learn your lesson last time?”

“Forget the last time. I followed you to your ship last night.”

“Impossible!”

“So you thought. But I watched and waited all last night. I saw the rakoshi leave. I saw them return with their captive. And I learned from Jack today that Nellie Paton, a Westphalen, disappeared last night. That was all I needed to know.” She glared at him. “No more lies, Kusum. It’s my turn to ask, ’how?’ “

Stunned, Kusum stepped down into the living room and sank into a chair. He would have to bring her into it now… tell her everything. Almost everything. There was one part he could never tell her—he could barely think about that himself. But he could tell her the rest. Maybe she could see his side.

He began his tale.

8

Kolabati scrutinized her brother closely as he spoke, watching for lies. His voice was clear and cool, his expression calm with just a hint of guilt, like a husband confessing a minor dalliance with another woman.

“I felt lost after you left India. It was as if I had lost my other arm. Despite all my followers clustered around me, I spent much time alone—too much time, you might say. I began to review my life and all I had done and not done with it. Despite my growing influence, I felt unworthy of the trust so many were placing in me. What had I truly accomplished except to filthy my karma to the level of the lowest caste? I confess that for a time I wallowed in self-pity. Finally I decided to journey back to Bharangpur, to the hills there. To the Temple ruins that was nowof our parents and our heritage.”