(Book 6) Hayden Mackay and The Third-Eye of the Pancharatna

33.2. The Last Memory

A faint shimmer made me focus back on the three guests from a different dimension. A ripple-pattering sound came from the middle of the island. I ran quickly to finish my journey over the bridge. Then, with my eyes slit against the abrasive hot wind, I saw the transparent frame of hers, facing something large, brown, and peculiar. Her companions were standing at a distance, staring fixedly up. On taking a few more steps forward, my vision cleared, and I halted at the spot, having my breath once again caught in my throat.

There was a huge cylindrical dome-like upstanding casket, certainly made of glass. I thought it was a casket, anyway. Inside it was filled with brown swirling smoke, with two sets of spooky, creepy, glowing eyes of a woman staring out like laser beams, heavily lit only by pinpricks of desperation.

My heart began to pound, and I swallowed hard to relieve the dryness in my throat. Although, I tried to stay reluctant to get bothered by the presence of the High Demoness, the mage who carried a legacy that was beyond Haimavathi and Lady Chandrika. I refused to give weight to the immense power she had over the country's mages.

You're here for the stone of the Breaking Samagraha. Just gather them quickly and get the hell out. My conscience screamed to me again and again before getting too absorbed staring at the spirit of the woman that creeped me more than the pitch-black bulbous eyes of Almourah had.

I trotted and stood beside Haima, quickly trying to search for the stones. A short brick wall encircling the dome served the main purpose. The ripples ran rapidly across the water filled inside the wall, momentarily distorting the figures. I crouched down and touched the water. As assumed, I did not feel the wetness, but a chill of sudden awareness seeped into my bones. It reminded me of the water from the pool at the academy. Yajna was performed right here.

There was a sudden shift and I stood back up watching Haima opening her pouch. From it, she took out items one after the other and dropped them into the water. The Maiden's Cup, The Shaatrumani Stone, the Emerald, and the Pride- all translucent and displaying an alternative luster. The four Third-Eyes undulated over the ripples, then slowly got consumed by the water and landed on the base. The series of blip-plock-popping sounds made me aware the ritual that had been performed thousands of years ago by Lady Chandrika to have the abilities passed down to us was being completed by Haima now.

There was just one more to go. One last Third Eye. Haima did not move for a while. She stood still, staring at the water. Her eyes, in the glowing orange hue of the lava, shone with immense pain and sadness. Her blood-smeared jaw clenched tight. She slowly looked aside at her companions and held both her hands up. Matsyasvi and Pizaca glanced at each other before all knowingly taking a step forward to hold each of her hands.

"You know what to do." Haima's voice boomed inside my head. The voice was loud but there was a nervous restless manner to it.

"Khatanjar will be distributed among the three of us as per your last wish," said Matsyasvi, having the same old and odd lilt to her accent. "Almourah will have his portion back. And when the time comes, we will happily lend ours to the Cornelian user if he arrives of his own volition."

Haima gave a single nod and looked further down at Pizaca. "I'll create scenarios to ensure the future Cornelian Users keeps his distance from you," he said. "Anyhow and by any means, the Samagraha of the future generation shall not have any association with you. You have my word."

I've got to give props to you, Pizaca. You almost did a good job there.

Haima turned back; her gaze carefully directed at the water. She let out a huge resigned sigh, eyes steely, and took out a last piece of artifact from her pouch before dropping it aside- a small and sharp-edged iron blade. Her hands slightly shivering, she brought it up and placed it against the wrist of her other hand. Her lips gently moved. "Singh, I hope you never choose a Cornelian User naïve enough to trust me," she murmured, staring hard and cold at the water. Murmer it was, but her voice was crystal clear in my mind and aflame with such vehement hatred. "Because I don't intend to be a pretty piece for their arms nor a brainless lady of the night. Parthiva, you've predestined the fate of the Cornelian users by making me the third eye. Know this, I'll never forgive you."