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I wrote this tale for my children when they were little.
The Djinni Seeker
"Madho!" cried a childlike voice from somewhere nearby in the thicket. "Do you laugh at the tigers that lurk in these woods? Foolish duck! Does a boy of fourteen have no fear?"
Startled, Madho dropped the bundle of twigs he had gathered and glanced all around him. Seeing no one, he shouted, "Who calls me? Sodewa, is it you, little sister?"
No answer came.
He peered into the leaves of the oak tree towering above him. "Climb down! Show yourself, whoever you are!"
"Ah, I am not whom you think," said the small voice. "And I do not hide in the tree. I am an orchid growing upon it."
Madho chuckled. "A flower that speaks?" He reached up and touched the lip of a lavendar orchid. "Are you this one?" he asked, grinning, "or this one?" He touched the velvety fringe of a drab yellow orchid.
"Oh!" squealed the orchid.
Madho jerked back his hand.
The orchid's lip fluttered softly, as if in a breeze. Its breath smelled of rain. "I am not truly an orchid but the air djinni, Anya. I am young, like Sodewa. This is the summer of my seventh year, too."
"A djinni!" Madho caught in his breath.
"Yes. A sad djinni, who clings to a tree." Anya heaved her petals and sighed. "My true home lies far away. I dwell in The Invisible World Beyond The Invisible World."
"Why are you here?" Madho scratched his head, frowning. "And why do you look like a flower?"
"Alas, the bad djinni Tash seized me and threw me under a spell when I, in the form of a eaglet, lit on a boulder to rest from my journey. I had come to destroy with my beak his soul - the cloud that darkens the mountain, Chaukhamba." Her pale lip trembled. "I failed."
Madho blinked. "Tash's soul is a cloud?"
"A disguise. It only looks like a cloud."
"How does he live with no soul?"
"He cast it out to protect it. His form is quite safe when his soul is not in it, for only when his soul is destroyed can it die." Her petals drooped. "Because I have failed, Tash will forever spit blight on your croplands."
"Will the death of his form set you free?"
Anya nodded.
"Tell me how, and I will slay Tash's soul!"
She brightened. Her petals, now golden, beamed in the sun. "Snip the branch above me. It must be that branch, for it alone has magic. Climb the mountain, and with the branch, pierce the cloud. When you have done this, the djinni will perish. Your croplands will thrive, and I will be free."
Madho unsheathed his knife and lopped off the branch.
"Do not let the acorns fall from the branch," Anya said, bending toward him, "and return please the branch when bad Tash is dead."
When Madho reached the top of Chaukhamba, the djinni's soul, as grey as an elephant, loomed overhead. Standing on tiptoe, Madho struggled to pierce the cloud with the branch. The cloud was too high. He leaped in the air, straining to reach it.
When his feet hit the earth, a clawed hand gripped his shoulder and spun him around. A stench like bad cheese slapped his nose.
Aghast, he looked up. Bulging eyes in a bloated pig face met his gaze. "Tash!" Madho cried.
With a growl the djinni snatched him up and hurled him against the ground. "I must feed! Give me flesh!" Tash roared.
Still gripping the branch, Madho groaned.
"I now smash you, sweet melon!" Tash yanked him up. He hoisted him over his head.
"You err, wicked pig!" Madho thrust up his arm, and with the branch, pierced the cloud.
"No!" Tash bellowed. With a grunt, he fell dead.
Madho rushed back to the thicket and searched for the orchid that grew on the tree.
"Foolish duck! Here I am!" He felt a sudden weight on his back. Small arms squeezed his neck, wet lips smacked his cheek.
"Anya?" Laughing, Madho pulled her over his shoulder.
He gulped. Never had he seen a more beautiful child. Her eyes danced with the fire of a thousand jewels, and the sheen of her hair was more splendid than that of a black swan's wing.
Smiling at him, Anya slipped the branch from his hand. She plucked an acorn from it and tossed the branch aside. "Keep this forever," she said, pressing the acorn into his palm.
She began whirling round. "Watch me do this!" she said, tinkling with laughter. When she stopped whirling, she was not a child any longer. Anya was now a sleek sambar fawn.
Madho felt an ache deep inside. "Why did you change?"
"The bad djinni Bhim sucks the fish from your rivers. He has disguised his soul as a prickle-bur weed that grows faraway, near the mouth of Jadh Ganga. I must find and devour it." Anya kicked up her hooves and sprang toward the clearing.
"Anya!" Madho called, with a lump in his throat. "The acorn! Is it magic? I do not understand!"
"It is my soul!" she called back, and bounded away.
~~~
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