Forest of Demons Read Online Free PDF Page A

boots, two sizes too big, but protection from the rough terrain and venomous insects and snakes that called the forest home.
    She’d promised Ma that she would stay at the edge of the forest and finish before midday, but in her heart she knew it was a promise she wouldn’t be able to keep.
    Mala’s fate had taken center stage in her mind, for she still had heard no explanation as to why the rakshasa had attacked Mala during surya hours. They were night-time creatures by habit.
    Or maybe that’s what they want you to believe.
    They were beasts after one thing alone, they didn’t have higher intelligence, didn’t plan. She told herself these things to build her courage as she trudged through the forest. Her boots crunched on the ground, snapping twigs and crushing bracken.
    The air was filled with birdsong and the scuttling and scurrying of forest creatures. The sun beamed its rays through the trees, dappling the ground with gold, and slowly she began to relax.
    She identified her first spot and began to dig.
    As the morning wore on, she slowly crossed items off her list, but the green root for the poultice proved to be more elusive. Papa had spoken of his work often; she cast her mind back to those conversations, looking for a tip or a clue that might help her now. Rifling through the memories, she finally alighted on the one she needed. Moist earth and darkness were where the roots could be found, because they belonged to a plant that thrived in those conditions. She stood and looked back at the trail. She could see it clearly from where she stood, but to find the root she’d need to venture further. Leave the trail behind.
    Sighing deeply, and offering up a prayer for protection, she lumbered deeper into the forest. The trees grew thicker here, older, closer together, and the ground was musky and dark. The deeper she went, the darker it got. The air seemed thicker, sound muffled by a blanket of silence. She scanned the ground for the plant she needed, and her breath caught when she spotted the telltale pink flowers.
    “Finally!” Her voice seemed odd, distorted. She began to dig. The root went deep, and it was hard work. Sweat broke out on her brow. Finally when she felt she’d loosened the soil enough to extract the plant, she began to wriggle it. She pulled, but it had grown deep and held fast.
    She cursed and looked about for some inspiration. And then she had an idea. Grasping the plant at the exposed root, she braced her feet on the tree trunk before her and pulled with all her might. The root suddenly came free, and she fell back hard. She lay there panting for a long moment. Plant clutched to her chest, eyes catching the odd ray of sun that played peekaboo through the shifting leaves above. She’d done it!
    A triumphant giggle rose in her chest at the exact same moment that every hair on her body stood to attention.
    Someone was watching her.
    Carefully and deliberately she rose to her feet and packed the root in her satchel. The feeling of being observed was almost a physical pressure at the nape of her neck now. It couldn’t be the rakshasas, because they would have attacked by now. Whoever heard of a rakshasa who simply watched?
    She began to walk, trying to act natural, unaware.
    She began to hum, low and shakily at first, but then with a little more volume and confidence. The melody gave her strength, and look, she was almost at the trail.
    A low growl shattered the absolute silence that her hum had filled. Why hadn’t she noticed how silent it had become, not a chirp or skitter?
    Every impulse in her body urged her to run, demanded that she run. But Priya held firm. She was prey, and what more did predators love than the chase? She wouldn’t give it a chase. Maybe it would leave her be. She continued her pace, inching closer and closer to the trail, her hands slippery with fear, blood pounding in her ears.
    And then the growl became a roar as something huge crashed out of the foliage, pounding the