Forest of Demons Read Online Free

the window, carefully stitching sleeves onto her festival dress. She should really be working on the other two dresses she’d been commissioned to sew, and she had a whole basket of mending from several villagers to get through. But tonight she wanted to work on something that was entirely hers. She made a meager wage from her sewing, but it would all add up, and the little tin under her mattress was filling nicely with coin. Maybe in another year she would have enough to visit the capital.
    She finished the sleeve, stood, and held the dress up against her. In the lamplight the color looked dark plum, but in daylight it would be a vibrant amethyst that would draw eyes.
    “Beautiful, Priya,” Ma said. “You will surely attract a husband in that.”
    Priya dropped the dress.
    Papa cleared his throat.
    Ma sighed. “Oh for God’s sake, she’s hardly an old maid now.”
    Papa mumbled something and chewed on his pipe.
    “Honestly Ma, I’m happy just like this.”
    “Don’t be silly, every girl wants to be married.”
    Priya sat down and picked an item from the mending basket at random. Guru’s face flashed through her mind, and she blinked it away. Guru was unattainable. “Not everyone.”
    Papa cleared his throat. “So if someone. . . asked for your hand, you would turn him down?”
    Ma sat up straight. “Someone has expressed an interest in our Priya?”
    Papa hushed her. Priya could feel his eyes on her, waiting for a response. Her heart was thudding so hard in her chest she almost pricked her finger with the needle. What did he mean? Had Guru’s family enquired? The minute the thought crossed her mind she dismissed it. Guru was the pujari’s son, and his family was revered in the community. She was a lowly villee’s daughter. Even if his family managed to overlook these facts, they wouldn’t be so callous as to organize a new match so soon after Mala’s death.
    Papa was still staring at her, so Priya shook her head. “Yes, I would.” She looked up at him and smiled. “I have plans, remember?”
    Ma huffed. “Pah! Your Capital dream. There’s no reason you can’t visit the Capital as a married woman. It could be your honeymoon.” She looked over at Papa for confirmation, but he dropped his gaze.
    “Our Priya is fine as she is. There is no man in this village that I’d deem worthy of her anyway. Maybe she’ll find her match in the Capital.” He winked at her and she grinned back.
    It was moments like this that made her think that her Papa saw and understood more than he let on.
    “You two!” Ma got up to fetch more tea.
    “Priya, will you sing to us?” Papa asked.
    Priya nodded. “What would you like to hear?”
    “A story,” Ma said settling herself back into her seat with a fresh cup of chai.
    Priya thought for a minute, then put down her mending and began to sing.
    Papa closed his eyes, and Ma smiled dreamily as Priya wove a tale of adventure, and of love lost then found. She pictured it in her mind, was transported there, and for a few moments, she was the brave warrior, the damsel to be saved, and the beast to be vanquished. For a few moments, she lived an adventure. But then the story came to a close, and the mountains and treasure-filled cave melted away, leaving her back in her hut.
    “You have such a beautiful voice. I have no idea why they’ve never asked you to perform for the festival,” Ma said.
    Papa shot Ma a withering look, and she flushed.
    Priya gnawed on her bottom lip. Ma often spoke without thinking things through. Mala always sang in the festival; she’d always been center stage. The villagers didn’t even know that Priya could sing. It was a private thing. Every song was unique, created as it was sung. It was a strange talent, one she’d only ever shared with her parents.
    “They may ask you this year,” Ma said.
    “For God’s sake, Kunti! The girl’s ashes have barely been scattered, and you’re already talking about replacing her,” Papa admonished.
    Ma