Forest of Demons by Debbie Cassidy Page B

They surged toward them.
    “Sing!”
    Priya began to sing.
    The notes hit the air and the rakshasas paused.
    Ravi clasped her hand. “Whatever you do, don’t stop singing.”
    They began to walk through the market.
    One by one, the rakshasas raised their heads from their meals. One by one, they paused in their attack.
    Shutting out the bloody horror of the carnage before her, Priya concentrated on the song, the melody.
    They walked, and the rakshasas followed as if entranced.
    Priya’s legs trembled, and her heart pounded so loud she struggled to hear her own voice. But Ravi’s reassuring grip on her hand kept her from stumbling.
    They moved passed the lanterns still burning in the village square and the rakshasha followed. Through the narrow village streets where the moon was the only illumination, down the dirt tracks that led to the edge of the village, they walked at a sedate pace, always aware of the danger that tread in their footsteps.
    They finally reached her home, and it was only then that their predicament struck her. She had unwittingly lured every rakshasa to her own doorstep.
    Her eyes relayed panic at her revelation, Ravi’s jaw flexed in indecision. The hut door opened and Papa raised his lantern, smiling when he saw Priya and Ravi, then gasping in shock when he saw what they had brought with them. Ravi leaned in speaking urgently to Papa while Priya focused on her song. Her throat ached, and she was afraid she would lose her voice at any moment. It was the longest she’d ever sung.
    Ravi looked up at the moonlit sky. Dawn was hours away.
    Tears pricked at her eyes as she battled to keep the terror trapped in her chest.
    Papa stepped out of the hut and gently extricated the bar from her hand. Ravi’s fingers slipped through hers, and Papa took her other hand. Together they channelled their strength into her.
    Flanked by the two men she sang until the sun’s rays tinged the sky with pinks and reds. She sang while the rakshasas turned and began to retreat. She sang until Ravi cupped her face and pressed his forehead to hers whispering to her to stop, that she could stop now, that it was over, and then the notes turned to sobs and she allowed him to hold her while the terror finally overwhelmed her.

CHAPTER 9
    “No one saw, no one knows.” Ma wrung her hands. “It’ll be all right.”
    “We should leave today, now!” Papa argued.
    “What? And give them reason to suspect?”
    “Why should they suspect anything? No one saw her leading them. Ravi assured me,” Papa said.
    “And what if someone realizes it was her voice that brought them here?”
    “It’s too much of a stretch; they won’t.”
    “Ravi did.”
    Papa was silent.
    Priya pulled the shawl tighter about her shoulders. They were acting as if she weren’t even in the room. From Papa’s chair by the stove, she watched them both pace in a strange, almost synchronized dance.
    “You’re right, we can’t just leave.” Papa sighed. “There are too many dead to bury.”
    “A few families are already packing to leave. They’re afraid that the rakshasas will attack again; no one will blink an eye if we leave too.” Ma had certainly changed her tune.
    “The capital is expensive, but we could stay for a week or two, then return,” Papa said.
    “I’ll pack.” Ma headed into their bedroom.
    Priya stared at the floor. This was her fault. All those dead people, they were her fault. She would never forgive herself. If only she’d turned the munsiff down, if only she hadn’t let pride sway her decision.
    She couldn’t walk across all the innocent dead to realize her capital dream. She had to stay, now more than ever. She had to put things right.
    “We’re not leaving,” she said.
    “Priya?” Papa took the seat opposite her.
    “We can’t leave now. I have to stay. They might come back, and if they do I have to be here to lead them away.”
    She waited for the objections, but heard only silence. She looked up, surprised by his