When Vandiyathevan opened his eyes once more, the sight that greeted him on all sides filled him with wonder. In the east, at the edge of the sky, the sun was rising. There, the sea shimmered like molten gold, dazzling and radiant. The maiden of the dawn was adorned in a golden silk garment and shone resplendently.

In the direction the boat was heading, directly before him, an emerald isle glimmered, draped in a robe of blue sea. To the right, another stretch of green land appeared, much the same in hue. It was not clear whether this was an island entirely surrounded by the sea, or a vast expanse of land stretching out into the distance. Looking further, between these two emerald realms, many more islands appeared in the distance, each displaying a different shade of green, as if to demonstrate the endless variety of that color.

From the boat, if one looked all around, the seven colors of the rainbow and their seven thousand subtle blends shone forth. Altogether, the scene before his eyes did not seem real. It was as if a master artist, skilled in the art of painting, had sworn an oath—“Here, let me show you what paradise looks like!”—and had created this wondrous vision in color.

As Vandiyathevan, entranced by this vision, lost himself in awe, words fell upon his ears, awakening him: “This is not paradise; this is Lanka!”

“Yes! I truly wondered if this was paradise,” replied Vandiyathevan.

“This is not the land of heaven; but it is a land like heaven. For a long time, men in the form of demons have been striving to turn this paradise into hell,” said Poonguzhali.

“Whom do you call demons?” he asked.

“Those whose profession is war, like you.”

“Even Ponniyin Selvan?”

“Why do you ask me about him?”

“You said you would inquire about the prince.”

“I said I would find out where he might be. I never said I would tell you whether he is a man, a demon, or a god, did I?” The boat was drawing near the islands. Instead of the deep, resonant hum that echoed in the middle of the sea, the sound of the waves now changed to the gentle, continuous murmur as they broke upon the shore.

“What do you say? You can see it ahead, can’t you? That is Boothaththivu, and to the right lies Nagaththivu. Where shall we go? Shall I take you to Nagaththivu and leave you there? Or will you decide after making some inquiries?”

“No; let us go to Boothaththivu. Even if it takes a little longer, it is better to find out where the prince is before proceeding.”

“If that is your wish, so be it. But remember the promise you made me!”

The boat came to a stop at the shore of the small island. Telling Vandiyathevan to look after the boat, Poonguzhali stepped onto the emerald isle and disappeared into its depths. Vandiyathevan watched the direction in which she went. Soon, she vanished amidst the green trees.

Vandiyathevan first pondered how the island, once called Bodaththivu by the people, had become corrupted into Boothaththivu. Then he wondered what sort of ghost might now inhabit this island. After that, he marveled at the mystery hidden within the heart of this extraordinary woman.

As Poonguzhali had promised, she returned within an hour. She climbed into the boat and beckoned Vandiyathevan to do the same. The boat now set off toward Nagaththivu.

“Were you able to find out what you needed?” Vallavarayan asked.

“The Chief Minister, Aniruddha Brahmarayar, has come to Maathottam to meet Ponniyin Selvan. The prince should have arrived at Maathottam yesterday. No one knows how long he will stay there. You can go there and find out,” Poonguzhali replied.

“How far is Maathottam from here?”

“It is about five or six katham away. The whole way is through forest. Don’t think it will be like the Kodikkarai woods. These are dense forests, with trees that reach the sky. In some places, it will be dark even at midday. There are herds of elephants and other dangerous beasts. You must be careful as you make your way.”

“If only there were a daring woman like you to guide me through the forest…” Vallavarayan sighed deeply.

“At that moment, what need is there for you! Hand me the palm-leaf letter! I will take it myself and deliver it… No, I cannot! I am speaking like a madwoman. I simply cannot do it. You promised the Young Princess, didn’t you? You must be the one to see it through!” she said.

“Very well, Poonguzhali! I will see it through. Even if someone else pleads with me, I will not hand it over. The help you have given me is more than enough!”

The boat was drawing near Nagadweepa. Poonguzhali’s hands were rowing the oar with their usual strength, but it was clear from her face that her mind was wandering somewhere far away, roaming in a world of dreams.

“Daughter of the Ocean!” called Vandiyathevan, and she started, returning to this world.

“Why did you call me?” she asked.

“You said you expected some return of favor from me, didn’t you? If you want to ask, now is the time. Look, the shore is drawing near.”

Poonguzhali did not answer at once; she seemed to be thinking. Seeing this, Vandiyathevan gathered his courage and spoke further.

“The help you have given me is immense. You have not only helped me, but you have rendered a great service to the Chola Empire itself. You have done a great favor to the royal clan of the Chola Emperor. If I do not do something in return, my heart will not be at peace,” he said.

“Are you saying all this truly? Or, like the other men in the world, are you speaking deceitfully?”

“I swear by the King of the Ocean, I speak the truth.”

“Is that like writing your oath upon water?”