Nine: Vengeance of the Warrior by Shobha Nihalani

she had come across some genuine cases of possession. Most were personality disorders due to stress. Lately, she had received a number of cases revolving around spirits. Violent spirits. She had never been in a situation like this, though.
    ‘A woman’s blood is not going to set you free,’ Tara said, buying time.
    ‘All women are bloody double-crossing whores!’ he shouted. The small circular table by the sofa was made of glass: he turned towards it. Tara moved simultaneously, quickly grasping his arm in a firm grip.
    He looked at her in surprise, his voice gritty and eyes bloodshot. ‘You are no ordinary woman.’
    There was a brief pause. Tara held her ground. She still held on to his arm, while her heart raced. Her ears buzzed, the one with the implant was starting to feel unusually hot. The implants were a new introduction to the Three. After they had successfully retrieved the Chintamani, Tara, Akash and Zubin were treated with much respect. As expected, the Three wanted to return to their ordinary lives, away from the unearthly phenomena they had experienced. They had been allowed to go but first they had to have implants inserted in their bodies. These were tiny electronic devices, smaller than a grain of rice, embedded in their earlobes. The implants were linked to the Senior Six and to Raakin.
    Tara laughed. ‘All women are different. If one woman hurt you, it doesn’t mean all women are the same.’
    The man shoved her away, pushed her down and was on top of her, hands around her throat, tightening his grip.
    Tara struggled, but he was too strong. She rasped, saw stars. Then as a last resort, she focused on her ability. Connected with the powers of the others. With all her might she intensified her thoughts and pushed the emotion into his frontal cortex. Hard and fast she bombarded him with thought rays of white light. He didn’t ease up. She was losing control, her throat was locked, breathing ragged. She targeted his mind with all her might and pushed the strong force from her whole being. That did it. Jerry released his grip and grasped his own head.
    Tara leaned against the sofa, coughing violently, taking in a lungful of fresh air. She closed her eyes to regain her strength. ‘I have done you no harm. Why did you attack me?’
    ‘The warrior will return.’
    Tara was alert. ‘Who?’
    ‘You know who.’
    ‘Did he communicate with you?’
    Singha didn’t reply. Then he turned to her, looking meek. ‘I cannot find my way back. This man must go to Bhangarh and I will leave him.’
    Tara moved away, maintaining a clear distance. A spirit existing in limbo and unable to go to the other side was unusual. From an ordinary individual’s perspective, the whole process was irrational, unscientific, borderline insane. Tara should call the police and get the guy committed to an asylum before he hurt others. But she believed him. Communicating with a ghost was not one of the most bizarre experiences in life. What she had been through in the past had raised her threshold of what was considered strange. It was the norm as far as she was concerned.
    She turned to the window. Looking out, she spoke, ‘I want to know about that warrior spirit.’

    The tension in the air was palpable. Singha spoke in a mellowed tone, ‘Madam, in my lifetime, I was a magician. I was well known and feared. You know better than anyone else that the world is full of oddities. Strange occurrences are not visible or audible, they cannot be defined in mere words. It’s a feeling, an energy that rattles our nerves, exists in between spaces, in the cracks of human weaknesses. They manifest from the source of anger and hatred. People don’t know that their addictions are the work of these spirits, egging them on, pushing them, testing their resilience and finally breaking them down. These spirits will one day harness all that is defective, all that is weak in mankind and destroy everything. Not even your kind can protect