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you saw my brother turned to ash as well, with your own eyes?’ 
    Jatayu paused, rubbing at an oozing wound over its right eye with the underside of one enormous wing. ‘There was nothing to see. One moment there was an asura army as had never been assembled since the beginning of time; the next instant it was a wasteland of ashes and dust.’ 
    Vibhisena sighed, resting his hand on the railing of the Pushpak. ‘Even so, my friend, I must search a while longer. My good sister-in-law Mandodhari refuses to grieve until she sees her husband’s corpse with her own eyes. And until she grieves, all of Lanka must wait in stasis. 
    Jatayu craned its neck suddenly, its many itches and wounds forgotten again as if some new thought had occurred to it. ‘You say you are Ravana’s brother? Does that make you his heir as well? Is not a brother ahead of a son in line of succession?’ 
    ‘It is as you say, bird-lord. If Ravana is indeed dead, then I shall ascend to the throne of Lanka. Even after me, Ravana’s sons would not yet ascend, for we have one more brother.’ 
    ‘One more?’ 
    ‘Yes. But he sleeps incessantly, so he would have escaped your sight on your infrequent visits to Lanka, sent forth on Ravana’s orders to spy on the mortals as you often are. His name is Kumbhakarna and he is the youngest of us three, so I am ahead in line of succession.’ 
    The expression that appeared on Jatayu’s face at these words was not one that Vibhisena could have put a name to. Neither human nor birdlike, it was a strange mixture of anger and frustration, greed and hope. ‘So then you will be my new master? You will raise a new army in time and lead the asuras again against the mortals?’ 
    Vibhisena smiled gently, his face warm in the sunshine. ‘Nay, my winged one. I am no warrior. Nor do I have any enmity with mortals. I will be content to turn my people towards penitence and tapasya, in the hope that some day the devas may forgive us our many transgressions and restore us once more to the status of demi-mortals. Part of the great cycle of karma and dharma again.’ 
    Jatayu gazed at the rakshasa for so long, Vibhisena began to fear the bird-beast had lost its damaged voice at last. Then the vulture-king said, the wonder in its tone unmasked by the harshness of its voice, ‘How could a fiend like Ravana have a brother such as yourself?’ 
    Before Vibhisena could reply, the Pushpak came to a halt with a shuddering motion. At once, a terrible grinding sound began to rise from the earth below, and the sky-chariot was buffeted by winds as fierce as any ocean gale. 

    THREE  
    Jatayu screeled and released its hold on the top railings, flapping its wings hard, adding to the force of the wind already blowing. Vibhisena clutched the railing tightly with both hands, fearing he would be blown out of the vehicle. He called out to the bird-lord, shouting above the screaming of the wind. 
    ‘Fear not, my friend. Pushpak is attuned to the heartbeat of its master. Its stopping here can only mean one thing, that it has found Ravana’s remains.’ 
    Jatayu’s answering cry was louder and harsher. The bird-beast sounded enraged at Vibhisena’s words. The wind of its wings battered Vibhisena hard, threatening to cast him overboard. Yet the rakshasa held on staunchly, and after a moment the wounded bird-beast regained its perch atop the flying chariot with a final screel of reluctance. 
    Vibhisena braced himself to look down. With an instinctive gesture of appeal to the devas he worshipped in defiance of all the laws, traditions and sentiments of his own race, the pious rakshasa gazed over the side of the Pushpak at the ground below, seeking out his brother. 
    A wind rose from nowhere, bringing a chill that made a mockery of the bright spring sunshine. Clouds appeared in a clear sky, racing across the sun, casting giant monstrous shadows across the land. The new tendrils of growth shooting up out of the ground slowed and