Onish's mind was buzzing with thoughts as he latched the door, cutting off Esha's shouts. The revelation of the chameleon cloak's existence did little to ease his growing angst. His lurking enemy could be anyone—a giggling maid or a patrolling guard clad in shining armor—spying on him under the guise of invisibility. The magical cloak must have been extraordinary to allow the girl to escape the ghosts of Agdam.
Onish took a deep breath and gave his chamber a searching look. No one was there. Not even the printed-skinned dwarf who had left him puzzled. The gaunt creature was supposedly a messenger, so why had he stolen his books? Was he truly a thief, and the dautya leaf a ploy to harm him? Onish shook his head. Answers would come only when he ate the leaf, but it had to wait until he acquired the moon-fairy dew. He couldn't afford carelessness, not after today's incident. Someone out there was conspiring against him—someone who feared neither his lord father nor the castle's authority.
He regretted not asking Esha about the fabled Hara. Why did they all mistake him for this enigmatic savior? There must be signs misleading the cloaked spy and the stone-eyed one. He had to address these threats before they spiraled into endless trouble.
After sorting his thoughts, Onish retrieved the scroll his mentor, Bhadra, had given him. The yellowed parchment contained the key to escaping his impending crisis. If he couldn't become as mighty as Bhadra, who could fight frantic spirit birds for hours, he at least needed to grow strong enough to flee.
The scroll detailed the next step after cleansing all 72,000 nadis: forging the spirit-gross body. Bhadra had explained it in meticulous detail.
With a spirit body, a wielder became like a fish in water—agile, sturdy, and attuned to the mysterious energy coursing through existence. The spirit body enabled its wielder to sense the invisible energy through physical senses like skin and eyes. This heightened awareness allowed manipulation of the energy, provided one had mastered the requisite arts. For others, such knowledge was taught in the elementary academy; for Onish, it was a promised lesson from Bhadra.
Onish examined the diagrams, each captioned with intricate instructions. Forging the body was not a singular path but divided into five stages:
Forging the spirit muscles Forging the spirit bones Shedding the mortal skin Refining the soul Merging the conscious and unconscious minds
Bhadra had instructed him to memorize the labyrinthine spirit paths and seek him afterward. Forging the body required more than spirit circulation or herbal baths prepared by giggling maids.
Onish found his improved concentration a boon. After cleansing his nadis, he could now visualize 100 at a time—an impressive leap from his earlier limit of 40. The diagrams demanded intense focus: the first comprised 3,250 nadis, the second 4,120, the third 5,400, the fourth 9,000, and the fifth 27,000.
After nearly three hours of study, Onish finished memorizing the five diagrams. His mind felt as if it were stuffed with writhing noodles. Glancing out the large window, he saw moonstone light dancing on dangling vines. Dinner time had long passed, but food seemed inconsequential when his life hung by a thread.
Rolling the scroll and placing it back in its case, Onish prepared to find Bhadra. His mentor's abode lay behind the castle garden, an ominous tower Bhadra had pointed out earlier.
The path to the tower was shrouded in an unsettling stillness. The garden's dry leaves crunched beneath his boots, the sound echoing unnervingly. Unlike the castle, this area had no glowing moonstone lamps. Instead, faintly luminescent flowers peeked from dense greenery, casting an eerie glow. Even for someone raised in the icy valleys of the Himalayas, the spiked tower was a foreboding sight, draped in crimson ivy and shadowed by thick trees.
As Onish approached the arched doorway, he felt eyes upon him. His pulse quickened. His gaze swept the darkened grove, searching for the cloaked spy. The silence was deafening, broken only by the whisper of wind through the leaves. He paused on the black stone stairs, straining his ears, but the watcher remained elusive.
Unwilling to confront an unseen enemy, Onish ascended the stairs two at a time, reaching the imposing black metal door. It was intricately carved with tangled vines and serpents, their eyes glinting like embers. When he reached out to knock, his hand bounced back as if repelled by an unseen force. The carved snakes came to life, their heads rising, hoods flaring wide, and glowing eyes fixed on him.
Onish stepped back, alarmed. What sorcery was this? A door that defended itself with animated reptiles? Yet before he could retreat, the door creaked open. The serpents hissed, their movements menacingly fluid.
"Bhadra, are you in?" Onish called, his voice steady despite the unease curling in his stomach. Only the rustle of ivy answered.
A soft, high-pitched voice broke the silence. "What are you howling for, kiddo?"
Startled, Onish looked up. A figure of solid glass peered out from the half-open door—a toddler with glistening, chubby cheeks puffed in annoyance. The sight was as bizarre as it was unnerving.
"Don't you have any sense?" the glass boy scolded. "The nrikshas are sleeping. You're lucky Igbo didn't wake them, or the old man would skin me alive."
"I'm sorry," Onish said, embarrassed to be chastised by a childlike figure. "I'm here for Bhadra. Does he live here?"
The glass boy scrutinized him. "What's your name, kiddo?"
"Ishit," Onish replied.
"Which Ishit?" the boy asked. "Ishit of Nemariya, the boat boy? Ishit of Ahom, who tried to seduce a princess? Or Ishit who lives in Kandhar with his blind granny, beaten for stealing chickens? Or—"
"Ishit of Minaak, son of Oman," Onish interrupted, dreading the boy's litany of rogue names.
"Oh, never heard of you," the boy said, unimpressed. "Well, Sire is busy. Come back later."
"What's taking you so long, Virtu?" Bhadra's deep voice resonated from within.
Blue smoke flooded the glass boy's transparent body, swirling like ink in water. "Ah, nothing! Virtu is coming, Sire!" he squeaked, stepping aside to let Onish in.
The serpents hissed as the boy pushed the door fully open, revealing a dimly lit corridor. "Stop hissing, you scaly brutes. He's a guest," Virtu scolded. To Onish's amazement, the snakes retreated, their hoods shrinking.
With an amused glance at the peculiar boy, Onish stepped into the corridor, its shadows thick and foreboding. Virtu was yet another oddity in this bewildering world.