Part 3

Sorry it took so long to get this one up; I've been really busy, and it's a good bit longer that the others. Oh, and a quick note: anything that's italicized and in quotes is a thought. Well, read on! And please comment!

“My head feels funny,” Miranda stated, frowning.

“Really? Well, that’s too bad,” Krishna answered uninterestingly, ruffling his fingers through his long, curly, blonde hair.

“I dunno…” she continued, unabashed, stepping on twigs on the forest floor as she walked, “My brains feel…full. Kinda like when you eat too much, except it’s not in my stomach.”

“Uh-huh…” he said, holding back a pine bough from her path.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling.

He nodded, locking eyes with her for just a moment.

She quickly looked away, choosing instead to watch an insect flying through the air.

He smiled, shaking his head, “Mortals.”

Miranda furrowed her brow, “What do you mean?”

“Hm?” he asked, watching his own feet as he walked, dirt caking up on them.

“I’ve heard you say stuff like that before, about mortals or whatever. Why do you say those things?”

He looked up at her, bending down just slightly so he was closer to eye-level with her, “Because you mortals do the strangest things. Especially you,” he smiled, “You’re so unpredictable.”

She blushed, unable to look at him head-on. Instead, she opted for looking at the flawless skin right below his chin.

Krishna straightened back up, “I think I can see the tent from here.”

Miranda shook her head sharply, forcing herself out of her reverie, “Wait…Why do you keep saying things about mortals like that, though? Do you think you’re a Devaki or something?” She held back a laugh.

“Actually, I am,” he said matter-of-factly.

Miranda chortled, doubling over.

Krishna grinned, “Yeah, that was a pretty good one, huh?”

She nodded, gasping for air.

“Well, I guess the truth is sometimes much funnier than a joke, then.”

Miranda stood, looking confused. She dismissed it, knowing that, even if Krishna explained it to her, she still wouldn’t get it.

“Where was Daddy?” she then asked, trying to fill the awkward silence, “I’m starting to get kind of worried about him.”

“The Agrata probably found his body. If you want to talk to him, I think Kami’s trying to make contact.”

“Oh, is Kami a medium or something?”

“I think he’d prefer the term ‘Darshan,’ but yes, he is. Among other things.”

Miranda thrust out her lower lip, “I wanna talk to Daddy. I’m gonna be mad if Kami can’t find him.”

“I’m right here,” a voice said, “I’m right with you. Don’t do anything rash. Of course Kami won’t hear me; he’s not my Darshan. You are. And now I’m living inside of you. And might I add, living space in here is rather limited.”

Miranda whipped her head around, her eyes roving the forest, “Daddy? Where are you?”

Krishna frowned, but put his hand on Miranda’s shoulder, “Are you okay?”

“I just heard him! We need to find him!” She was frantic now.

Krishna’s frown deepened, “You’re not going to find him, sweet child. He’s dead. He’s gone. The Agrata has his body. I’m really sorry, but you’re simply not going to find him.”

“No!” she said, shirking off his hand, “I just heard him! Just now!”

“No, you didn’t. There’s nobody here.”

“I’m not lying! Do you think I’m lying?”

“No, I never said that. I just think you’re delusional.”

“Delusional…hey, I know what that means…I am NOT crazy!”

“I never said you were. I just think you’re sleep deprived. Now, we need to get back to camp, and I’ll have Kami fix you a nice, comfortable pallet, and you can lay down and—”

“I don’t need to sleep,” she hissed through gritted teeth, her hand clenched into fists, “I’ve slept too much; that’s the problem! Otherwise, I’d know where my daddy is now!”

“I’m right here. Stop searching when I’m right here. Don’t you dare do anything stupid.”

“There he is again!” Miranda shrieked.

“You’re not hearing anything!”

“Yes, I am!”

“NOBODY’S THERE!” Krishna bellowed, using all of the air from his lungs. Several birds where startled from their perches in the branches of the trees.

Miranda’s eyes grew large.

“No, no, no…” Krishna mumbled, smacking himself in the forehead with the heel of his hand, “I…I didn’t mean to…I’m really sorry, I…Oh, Devaki…”

“Y-y-you th-think I-I’m lying!” she blubbered, tears coming to her eyes, “A-and you j-just y-y-yelled at m-m-me!” She dissolved into tears.

Krishna shifted uncomfortably, wrapping one arm awkwardly around her, “There, there. I’m really sorry.”

She sobbed uncontrollably into his chest, “Wh-what if he is d-d-dead, and I am j-j-just hearing things? Wh-what if I’m lying on a-accident?”

Krishna pulled her into an embrace, resting his cheek against the top of her head, “It’s not a lie if it’s on accident. It’s a mistake. And we all make mistakes.”

“Please don’t cry,” The voice in her head comforted, “I’m right here, I swear. I’m in you. I’m not out there. I’m in here.”

Miranda gasped, “I heard him again.”

“That’s okay. I don’t think you’re crazy.”

She looked up at him, her eyes red and puffy from her tears, “You don’t?”

He shook his head, “No, I just think you’re…” His eyes got a very distant look to them, as if they were no longer seeing what was in front of them.

“You think I’m what?”

Krishna clapped his hand over her mouth, “Be very, very quiet, and do exactly as I tell you to,” he whispered so quietly that even the blowing of the wind seemed to drown him out.

She nodded, and he took his hand down. He crouched down, and sidled over to a tree. Motioning for her to follow him, he deftly leapt onto a branch that Miranda stood eye-to-eye with.

She gulped, “I can’t do—”

“Sh,” Krishna urged, then bent down to get her, hooking his feet around another branch.

“Get on my back,” he whispered.

Miranda looked behind herself, and pointed, “Who are those people over there?”

“Do as I say!”

Miranda nodded quickly, then, with more than a little help, clambered up onto Krishna’s back, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Don’t drop me,” she said into his ear, her breath gently moving the tendrils of hair that sprouted from there.

“I won’t,” he mouthed, then began to climb as fast as he could, his long, pale limbs moving in a blur.

“Kami,” Krishna thought, “I don’t know if you can hear me. Can you?”

“Yeah,” was Kami’s mental reply, from the tent, “I see some things in my mirror that shouldn’t be there.”

“Like…?”

“Well, first of all, you’ve got this blindingly white spirit hanging off of you; I think it’s Dhaval.”

Krishna fought back a gasp and looked back at Miranda.

“So, Miranda’s not just hearing things? It’s Dhaval?” Krishna asked.

“Seems so. He didn’t stay dead for long. But now I have to deal with another one of you. You’re enough of a handful. If she gets all snot nosed like you…”

“Haha. Very funny. What about the other thing?”

“Yeah…Um, keep climbing.”

“What is it?”

“Oh, nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Don’t go all sarcastic on me, Kami. I’ll hurt you.”

“Yes, Master,” Kami sneered.

“What did I just say?”

“Sorry.”

“So who is it? Or am I going to have to go down there and ask him for his name?”

“It’s the Agrata,” Kami answered quickly, afraid of what Krishna would do to him when he got back.

Miranda prodded Krishna in the back, and, when she caught his eye, looked meaningfully upwards. On her prompting, he continued to climb, moving silently. Once he got to the top, he stopped.

“Are you alright?” he asked Miranda quietly upon turning around and seeing a sheen of sweat around her face.

“The voice won’t shut up…” she moaned, “Krishna, I’m scared.”

Krishna reached backwards and squeezed her hand, “So am I.”

They both peered down through the boughs of the gigantic pine Krishna had climbed, fresh sap seeping through the knees of his trousers.

Two men stood directly beneath them, one tall and stately, his arms rippling with heavy muscles, the other short and slender.

“Oh,” Kami thought, “Krishna, the Agrata has a mage with him.”

“No, really?” Krishna scoffed mentally, resisting the urge to roll his eyes, “And what gave it away, his staff? Or perhaps that gigantic spell book he’s carrying?”

Kami remained silent.

“Where are they?” the bigger one, the Agrata, demanded, “You said they were here, two of them. Where are they?”

“They ran,” the mage answered calmly.

“Well, go find them!”

The mage nodded, a sneer twisting his mouth. He shimmered out of the visible spectrum.

“Oh!” Miranda gasped, momentarily losing her grip on Krishna. Her foot came down on an unsteady branch; it snapped underneath her weight, falling to the forest floor.

Krishna quickly caught her. Trembling, she wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, clutching him as tightly as her muscles would allow. He made no move to stop her. As a matter of fact, he made no move at all; the Agrata’s eyes were now roving through the pine tree where Miranda and Krishna sat.

Krishna took Miranda silently from his back, breaking her chokehold, and put her between himself and the tree trunk.

“What are you doing?” she mouthed when he pressed himself into her.

He covered every inch of her that he could with his own body, sheltering her from the Agrata’s gaze. He shut his eyes closed, seemingly concentrating very hard, then…

Miranda looked down at Krishna. Or, what had been Krishna. He, just like the mage before, had vanished. And then, she did as well.

In an unmeasurably short amount of time, she somehow appeared in the tent, lying ungracefully on her back. She looked around, confused as to what had just happened.

Krishna sat next to her, perspiring, his legs spread out under him.

“I hate doing magic,” he said, out of breath, “I really, really do.”

Kami laughed, shaking his head, “Immortals.”

Krishna rolled his eyes before leaning forward and smacking Kami soundly in the back of his head, “I told you not to talk to me like that.”

“S-sorry,” Kami stuttered, forcing back another laugh, “I’ll never do it again.”

What a lie that was.