Taking support from the ragged stone wall, Ishit dragged his body on the worn-out stairs. His heart was still racing. He couldn't believe he had escaped the clutch of death. Now he didn't care whether he failed or passed the trial. All he cared now to take deep sleep while his mother caressed his face, and then when the fowler returned (of course if he were able to Ishit doubt Nirvano would allow him to leave so easily now), he would curse him to death.
Who would call it a trial? It was more like sending him on a trip where everyone was waiting excitedly to warm their hands.
He doubted his father had any clue about this strange chamber that could send someone to the end of the world.
He had to inform him about the fowler's real identity before it was too late. Ishit didn't understand why Bhadra had disclosed his secret to him.
But again there were many things that were buzzing in his sleepy mind.
