The Deadly Conch by Mahtab Narsimhan

It’s our secret. All right? Promise me?” She stuck her palm out and Suraj laid his hand on it.
    â€œDidi, I have a secret to share, too.”
    Tara stared into his face, trying to hide her dismay. When did her baby brother become old enough for secrets? “What is it?” she said.
    â€œPromise you won’t tell anyone?” He stuck his little palm out and Tara covered it with hers.
    She then followed as Suraj raced to a corner of their courtyard where bits of stone, shattered clay pots, and other odds and ends were lying in a heap. Their mother had always meant to clear it away, but there was never enough time. Suraj reached into the middle of the pile of debris and pulled something out. He handed it to Tara..
    The package was carelessly wrapped in oilskin and surprisingly heavy. “What is it, Suraj?”
    â€œOpen it and see,” said Suraj. “But you can tell no one about it. Okay, Didi?”
    Tara glanced behind her. Their mother was nowhere in sight. She unwrapped the parcel, and almost dropped it. In her hand lay Zarku’s dagger. The one he was going to use to cut her heart out. The stones on its handle gleamed like red eyes in the early morning sunlight. The silver blade ended in a cruel, sharp tip. Tara re-wrapped the parcel with shaking hands and thrust it back into the middle of the pile.
    â€œWhere did you get this?” she asked, trying to steady her voice.
    â€œIn the cave,” said Suraj. “While Sadia and I were waiting for you I saw this lying on the ground. I decided to take it.”
    â€œWhy?” asked Tara. “Why did you take it?” She almost screamed at him, fighting the urge to shake him hard. What was he thinking?
    Suraj shrugged. “I don’t know. I just cannot remember. All I know is that I had to take it and keep it hidden. A voice inside my head told me to do it.”
    Tara lunged forward and clasped Suraj’s face. She turned it up to the sun and ran her fingertips over his forehead. It was smooth, with not the tiniest little bump. She hugged him tight, relief flooding her, turning instantly to panic.
    Why had he taken the dagger? But more important, who had told him to take it?

— eight —

The Untouchables
    T ara and Suraj trudged the long and dusty road to Pinjaur. Along the way, they ran into a couple of villagers from Morni who ignored them. It was happening sooner than she had expected; they were all being treated like untouchables. For the first time, Tara realized how Gayatri-ma must feel — shunned through no fault of hers, treated as if she did not exist. And she did not like it one little bit.
    The earth baked in the late morning sun. Large cracks had opened up on its surface like cuts on a wound that were crying out for salve. Tara looked up at the sky. There wasn’t a ghost of a cloud in sight. Rain was the only thing that would heal the earth and cool the raging tempers of the villagers. But it would not happen today. Her throat was parched and she tried very hard not to think of a large glass of cool well water.
    â€œHow are we going to stop Layla?” said Suraj suddenly.
    Tara shot a glance at him. It was the one thought that had nagged her constantly since last night.
    â€œI’ll think of something,” said Tara. “Don’t you worry about it.”
    â€œIt has something to do with the shell, right?”
    Tara met his eyes, trying to keep her face blank. How perceptive he’d become! But Lord Yama had warned her against telling anyone and that included Suraj. Before she could reply, someone called out.
    â€œTara, Suraj, wait up.”
    Tara whirled around. Ananth! He was still speaking to her. Whatever Layla had told him, it hadn’t worked. She was so relieved that she almost dropped the earthen pot as she murmured a prayer. Ananth’s support meant so much to her.
    They waited while he caught up to them. He, too, was carrying an earthen pot. Tara gazed at