Aksha felt the tip of the arrow puncturing her lung, but more alarmingly, she felt her Tantric powers draining her body faster than the blood rushing through the wound. Bali rushed to her side.
"Shhh…." He hushed her and then, with a jerk of his hand, pulled out the arrow and tossed it away to the other side of the tent. He, next, pressed his hands against Aksha's side.
Aksha clutched his wrists. "That won't be necessary. I won't die."
"If you do, I will give you a proper cremation." The witty words did little to hide the worry in his tone.
Soon Aksha felt Bali's spiritual power healing her, from her organ all the way to the skin one by one. The pain numbed gradually. Yet, the tantric heat in her belly, the source of all her powers, had entirely depleted.
"I do not feel my powers," she whispered plaintively, to which Bali only served up derision.
"You will have no use of your powers for the next three days if you survive, that is."
Arrows were raining on them, and where they touched the air wall, the poison melted away the Tantric threads creating a comb of holes in the wall. Bali rose to his feet and busied himself repairing the barrier while dodging the arrows that pierced through. Aksha half laid and half raised herself on her good side, with her right palm bracing her wound.
"That is how they hunt the demons," she murmured her realization. "A poison."
Bali nodded in the dark. "A particularly foul one," he explained while weaving his Tantra thread to reinforce the wall. "It blocks the travel of the Tantric flow through your fibers. Once you are crippled, they capture you and carve out your heart as you watch."
"I am intrigued by the prospect," Aksha half moaned, half drawled, "Perhaps I would like to see them try."
For a moment, the hailstorm of arrows stopped. Without the tantra, Aksha felt every fatigue, every weakness in her bones and muscles. She felt around for her pillow and, from under it, pulled out her small steel dagger, old but handy, that in the past had allowed Aksha to free herself from many perilous situations. She dragged herself to her feet and slowly walked over to Bali.
The prince was only twenty summers old, or so she gathered. Too young, she thought, despite the fierce spiritual powers he possessed.
"If what you say is true, the wall would not keep them away, and I would be aggrieved to see them rip out your heart." Aksha gripped the dagger's pommel. "Allow me to cause a diversion. The mares are still tied to the tree. You can leave before the whole pack is upon us."
Without her spiritual powers, her eyes only saw as much of the dark as any other mortal, which was the faint borders of Bali's silhouette. But she could fully imagine Bali's grim, insulted look. He ignored Aksha's proposal, continuing to reinforce the air wall instead. Aksha did not need her divine spiritual powers to hear a distant rumble, growing louder by the second. It was the footfalls through the open field mixed with the rallying cry of men.
"They would be here soon," Aksha tried to talk some sense into Bali, pulling at his arm. He turned to speak when something sharp tore loudly through the tent's flap.
Bali cursed under his breath and pulled Aksha behind him. Before the sword could make another slash, Bali sent two air daggers flying at the adversary standing behind the tent flap. The attack stopped, and a body sagged to the ground with a heavy thump. But the relief lived for only a second. Within moments, the shrieking army of hunters crashed on them, hacking and slashing at the tent. Soon the tent fell, nothing more than tattered linen on the ground, baring Bali and Aksha to the night sky.
For a second, Aksha could not believe her eyes. Twenty men surrounded them with their swords drawn, the silvery moonlight glinting off the metal. Behind them, scores of men waited with a menacing pause, their arrows fitted to their bows aimed at the two of them. The only barrier that separated them from their enemy, the air wall, seemed too thin and too frail.
"Whoever said east is the land of the enlightened saints and celestial spirits must be drinking an awful lot of wine," Aksha complained in a small, humored breath, "all I meet are the bloodthirsty afflicted and barbaric hunters." Her eyes alertly watched the hunters, ready for a last desperate fight.
Bali looked around himself. "Let us hope they murder us before they slice out our hearts."
In the blink of an eye, Bali grew twice his size, his immense form glowing like embers in the power of his Tantra. Suddenly alarmed, the sword smashed against the air wall, and the arrows left the bows taking flight in the air. Before they could touch the wall, Bali brought his colossal fist down on the ground with a thunderous force that shook them all, scattering away both the arrows and the wall that dissolved into thin air.
The assailants standing closest shrieked and fell, and before they could recover, torrents of flames flashed out of Bali's hands and charred them into ash and cinder. He wheeled around, aiming his fiery blazes at the entire circle of hunters, and they fell like moths going up in flames. And yet when the dust cleared, there were still more of them left, fifty steps from the carnage, standing defiantly.
"Too many," Bali gasped, "there are too many of these wretches." He was breathing hard, his dark, curly hair matted from sweat. To torch scores of men within seconds was a burden on the spiritual powers, even for someone as adept as Bali.
As soon as the fire ceased, the men boldly marched forward with their arrows pointed at the two.
Aksha touched the cool hilt of her dagger. "They would rather have our hearts than live. The battle becomes ten times more difficult when the enemy is this fearless," she observed in a quiet, somber tone.