Satya’s pallor worsened. The constant vigil in the sick room, coupled with the lack of adequate sleep, was taking it’s toll on her. Dark circles had formed under her eyes. An ashen hue had settled over her original, rose-coloured complexion. 

Uncle Madhava and Aunt Sulochana looked worried. Veerata and Vidyuta voiced their concerns, too. 

She dismissed their worries with a smile. “If I can’t tolerate this much strain, then I’ve no right to be a doctor.”

None could argue with that. 

By the fourth afternoon, Anjalika was able to stay awake for longer periods of time. Satya allowed the young general to question her about the source of the poison. Like before, she seemed to have no knowledge of how she ingested it. It was clear that she knew nothing about the dark magic spell. With the little energy that she had regained, she thanked Satya for saving her life and vowed to return the favour some day. 

The imperial physician and his team now took over the dancer's basic treatment, administering nutritional herbs and revitalising hot baths. Satya was sent off to a guest room in the palace to rest during the day with the reassurance that she would return to the patient every night. Aunt Sulochana and Uncle Madhava stayed by her side all the time. 

Veerata sensed their suspicious stares whenever he tried to speak to their niece even though the conversation revolved around the patient. Uncle Madhava watched him, keeping a respectable distance. Aunt Sulochana had a cross look in her eyes, as though she wanted to swat him away like an annoying fly. 

He could hardly blame them. He’d hugged Satya in front of everyone without thinking of the consequences. He’d lost his heart to the young maiden who’d saved his leg before and who’d now saved the dancer of Videha. He hadn’t stopped thinking about her since the day he first met her. When she was in sight, he had eyes for no one else. When she was away, he could think of nothing else. 

Why did I succumb to such a strong emotion?

He was also aware Satya had no notion of his growing feelings for her or of her family’s suspicions. 

***

Every evening, Satya returned to Anjalika’s chambers and continued her secret treatment. Every morning, she retired to her own room exhausted and grateful to lay down on her bed. 

Unknown to her, little by little, her strength had begun to fail. She’d never used her powers like this before. For hours at a stretch every night, she focused all her energy into her fingertips while touching the peepal leaves wrapped on Anjalika’s wounds. The connection with the dark magic doll had weakened, yet not vanished. 

A part of Anjalika’s soul is still trapped in the doll. Perhaps that’s why it’s taking longer than I expected.

Desperate to break the connection, Satya grew reckless and pushed herself to her limits, not realising the toll it was taking on her mind and body. 

On the seventh night, she found it hard to keep her eyes open despite having slept for nearly ten hours during the day. At midnight, Aunt Sulochana dozed off in a chair nearby. 

As usual, Veerata, Vidyuta, and Uncle Madhava stayed in the sitting room outside. Anjalika was fast asleep. Satya took a break from the treatment to rub her eyes and stretch her limbs. She watched the dancer’s beautiful face, feeling grateful that she was recovering so fast. 

If I can get rid of that spell in the next couple of days, we could all return to Satvikshila next week. Acharya must be worried about me. 

She remembered her days at the university. The lectures, the patients at the hospital, the studies at the library, the friends in the hamlet; everything seemed like a lifetime away.  

I’ll be back there soon. Very soon. Just a little more time. 

She jolted awake. When did I fall asleep? 

Aunt Sulochana stood over her, shaking her shoulder. “Satya, wake up,” she cried in a fearful whisper. 

“What? What’s wrong?” Satya blinked. 

Her aunt stared at the other end of the room. Pure dread shone in her wide eyes. Satya followed her gaze. A spiral fire had begun to form in the middle of the wall between the two windows. 

“A fire portal!” Satya gasped. 

“Someone is trying to enter the room,” Aunt Sulochana whispered. 

“I’ll call for help,” Satya jumped to her feet and turned towards the door. All she had to do was open it and scream.

“Stay where you are!” 

The command froze her in place, as though it carried invisible binding threads made of magic. She glanced at the portal. 

A man dressed in black garments had emerged from it. His face was covered in a black mask as well. Enormous brown dreadlocks hung over his shoulders from the top knot at the crown of his head. His black eyes shone with malicious intent. He held a dagger in his hand. 

Satya tried to speak. “Who–”

“Silence,” the man barked. “I’ll be the one asking questions. Don’t move!”

A cold sweat broke out all over her body. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her aunt, who was trembling where she stood, unable to say a word. 

The man took a step closer to Satya. “Which one of you is the healer?” he asked, pointing the dagger at them.

“What?” Satya pretended to not understand him. 

“Don’t lie to me!” He thundered. 

Even at such a distance, he seemed to tower above them like a death god. A lethal killing aura surrounded him. Satya felt her own body shaking in fear. 

“Which one of you broke the spell?” He demanded again. “Tell me the truth or I’ll kill both of you right now!”