I fling off my hoodie and twist the arm around the goat’s neck and tightly knot it. “Shhh …” I say, full of hope, turning back in the direction I’ve come from.
I hurry onward, pulling the goat with me back across the uneven ground, passing through clumps of trees and meadows full of grasses taller than my waist. I struggle up steep hills and cross trickling streams until the sun turns crimson and begins to lower in the sky.
The journey has taken all day and I feel my heart speed up as I think of what might have happened while I’ve been gone.
I’m coming, Jeevan, keep strong. I’m on my way.
I’m worn out but I wipe the hot sweat from my forehead and continue toward the forest and, at long last, reach its welcoming green edge.
I cast a glance behind me and enter the darkening canopy of leaves, tugging the goat urgently. I begin scanning the branches for the first length of fabric that marks my way back to Jeevan.
Low-hanging branches scratch my cheeks as I hunt frantically for the first tie, but the rippling leaves cast confusing shadows and I can’t see it anywhere.
I rest a moment, tired and frustrated, with the bewildered goat beside me. Then I continue combing the branches for the swirl of red fabric I tied this morning. And finally, I spot it, gently waving in the breeze.
“Hey … Hey, you!” I jump. “What do you think you’re doing, stealing my goat?”
A dog bounds up, snarling and barking ferociously. Behind it is a boy a couple of years older than me, wearing a wide-brimmed felt hat and leading a horse.
“I wasn’t stealing it.” I stand as still as I can while the dog keeps barking, nipping and tearing the edge of my sleeve.
The boy steps in closer. “Well, it looks like stealing to me. I’ve been trailing you.” He speaks in a strange dialect and I have to concentrate hard to understand him.
“My friend is very ill. He’s got a fever. I had to leave him alone in the forest to find something to help him … Now, will you please call your dog off?”
The boy whistles and the dog releases its grip.
“Your friend? I don’t understand … your accent.” He takes off his hat, revealing wavy shoulder-length hair. “You’re not from here, are you?”
I speak more slowly this time, my voice thick with panic. “No … but my friend, he is sick. I found your goat and I was going to give him some milk to make him better … We’ve been walking a long way without proper food … I would have brought it back. Please. I need your help.”
The boy looks at me closely like he’s trying to work me out.
I hold my head high. “I sacrificed my hair in return for blessings from the Gods … my name’s Asha.”
“I’m Nahul,” he replies.
“We’re on our way to Kasare … to the temple.”
“My ma went there once,” he says. “My baby sister was very ill, so she took offerings to the Daughter of the Mountain, to the source of the Ganges.”
“That’s what we’re going to do … for my papa.” I move closer to him. “The place I left him isn’t far from here … Could I please give Jeevan some milk and then you can take your goat home?”
“I’m not sure. My family will be worried.” He nods toward the setting sun. “And it’ll be dark soon.” He pulls his rifle across his chest.
I plead with him. “What if he got so weak that he couldn’t survive the fever … or what if he’s been attacked?” I wipe my cheeks.
Nahul stares into the gloom beyond the trees and then back along the path out of the forest, deciding what to do.
“I beg you.” There’s a long pause.
“OK,” he says, still sounding unsure. “I’ll come with you … but we must hurry.”
He ties the goat with a long piece of rope and secures it to the horse’s bridle, then holds the horse steady while I slot my foot into the stirrup and hoist myself up. “Thank you.”
“Remember to duck under the low branches,” he says, climbing up behind me and setting off.
Deep-throated animal howls haunt the strengthening wind as we journey on.
“What’s that?”
“It sounds like a pack of wolves,” he says, turning his head. “M-maybe they’re missing one and are mourning their loss.”
A ball of fear tightens as I think of Jeevan alone. “Can we go more quickly?”
As we trot along, hooves thudding against the ground, the howls sounding closer than ever, he twists the horse in the direction of the red ties, and each time I spot one my heart gives a leap.
I close my eyes and say a prayer for Jeevan, feeling for my pendant, gripping it tightly. “Be safe, Jeevan … Nanijee, keep him safe.”
We keep riding through the forest until we’re on the final slippery paths with rows of pines that I recognize. The horse tosses its head, suddenly skittish, but the forest is eerily quiet.
“Jeevan!” I cry out, fear whipping through my blood as we draw closer. “It’s me … I’m back.”
Nahul pulls on the reins to control the horse, bringing it to a standstill near the edge of the clearing, stroking its neck soothingly. We dismount, but once we’re out of the saddle the horse whinnies and rears, yanking the goat with it, as if it senses something we don’t, as if it’s trying to run away. My heart lurches in fear.
“Steady, boy … steady.” Nahul holds on to the reins while I scramble toward the shelter. Something is wrong.
And as soon as I burst into the clearing I see it. Panic shoots through me like a bolt of electricity and I scream a high-pitched, sharp
