The wind did not stir; the sea did not move; the ship did not advance. Vandiyathevan sat silently for a while, gazing at the ocean, which now resembled a tranquil lake, calm and unruffled by a single wave. Only within his heart did mighty waves rise and crash.

Suddenly, he stretched both arms toward the sea and cried out, “Om Hreem Hraam Vashat!” In the next instant, he drew a dagger from his waist and spun it twice in the air in a circular motion.

“Yes! Yes! The Lord of the Ocean demands a sacrifice! He asks for a double offering! He commands that the lives of two fiends who slay sleeping men be given to him as sacrifice! Only then will he allow this wooden vessel to proceed further. Where are you? Let the two of you come forward and stretch out your necks at once! Quickly!” he thundered.

Ravidasan stared at Vandiyathevan in astonishment. Then, with a laugh that echoed like a ghostly cackle, he said, “Ha! Ha! Ha!”

“Brother! What sort of game is this?” he asked.

“Elders! This is no game; it is fate!” replied Vandiyathevan. “Just now, when I was bound and lying below, I dozed off for a moment. In that sleep, I had a dream. A blue-hued figure, like a spirit that united the sea and the sky, stood before me. It spoke something I did not understand then; but now I do! The Lord of the Ocean demands the life-sacrifice of two Kali devotees skilled in magic and sorcery. If it is not given, he will not let this ship move forward. The sacrifice of six wild Arabs did not satisfy him. Come! Quickly!” So saying, Vandiyathevan raised the dagger in his hand toward the sky.

Ravidasan and Devaralan looked at each other’s faces.

Ravidasan said, “Brother! I have never seen a trickster like you when it comes to spinning tales!”

Vandiyathevan replied, “Oh! You do not believe what I say? Do you think I am making up stories? O Lord of the Ocean, answer these fools yourself!” he cried. It seemed as though the voice he had called out with had reached the ears of the King of the Ocean himself. And it appeared as if the Ocean King wished to reply!

At that moment, a wondrous sight appeared upon the sea. As far as the eye could see, in all four directions, the ocean shivered with a strange thrill. Thousands upon thousands of tiny, delicate waves rose and fell. This lasted but a moment. In the next instant, all those waves transformed into fine droplets of silvery foam. Across the vast expanse of the sea, those white beads of foam leaped and played. What would it look like if, upon a wide green meadow, countless millions of thumbai flowers rolled and tumbled in a gentle breeze? Just so did the sea appear at that moment!

Yes; a light, gentle breeze—sweet and cool—embraced the ship for a moment and then passed on. A shiver ran through the vessel. Vandiyathevan’s body, parched by the heat, too, was refreshed by a pleasant chill.

Ravidasan and Devaralan burst into laughter. “Ha! Ha! Ha!”

“Brother! The King of the Ocean has already answered your question! It seems we must prepare ourselves to be sacrificed!” said Ravidasan.

Vandiyathevan’s heart was troubled. The sudden thrill that had swept across the sea, and the immediate change that followed, had left him bewildered.

Ah! What was this? Where had those thousands upon thousands of tiny waves and millions of white foam droplets gone? Had they vanished like a mirage? The sea had become calm again, appearing like a green, polished slab! Had the vision he had just witnessed truly occurred? Or was it merely an illusion? Perhaps it was the magic of this sorcerer, Ravidasan!

“Look there! Brother! The sky too approves what the sea has spoken!” said Ravidasan, pointing to the southwest.

In the direction he pointed—at the corner where the green sea and the blue sky met—a small, dark cloud fragment had risen a hand’s breadth above the horizon. The tip of that dark cloud glowed with a blood-red hue.

On ordinary days, Vandiyathevan would never have noticed such a sight. What wonder is there in seeing a cloud bank at the meeting point of sea and sky? None at all! Yet even that small vision, at that moment, disturbed our hero’s mind a little.

In the next instant, Vandiyathevan regained his composure. “We must not fall into the snare of this sorcerer,” he resolved firmly within himself.

He glanced sharply, first at Ravidasan, then at Devaralan, and exclaimed, “If that is so, why delay? Come on!” With those words, he tossed aside his dagger.

“Sir! Before we become a sacrifice, we wish to pray to our family deity. Grant us half a nazhigai’s time!” pleaded Ravidasan.

“Very well! Say your prayers and come at once. Do not attempt any of your tricks or sorcery on me. Even if you try, it will not work!” declared Vandiyathevan.

“We are coming right away. See, we are leaving our weapons here!” said Ravidasan.

So saying, both of them laid their weapons down and moved to the other side of the boat.

That half a nazhigai—those few moments—were necessary for Vandiyathevan as well. The strange sights in the sea and sky had stirred a nameless confusion in his heart, making his body feel somewhat weakened. If necessary, he had resolved to finish off those two murderers with a single sweep of his blade. But he doubted whether, at that moment, he possessed the strength in his arm to do so.

Therefore, he needed a little time to steady his mind and summon his full strength.

His attention was drawn once more, almost involuntarily, to the southwestern corner. The mass of clouds that had earlier appeared a mere cubit high now towered to its full height. The blood-red hue at its summit had faded somewhat. The cloud mass seemed to be