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62
Young Saleem was confused. “I don’t understand, Grandfather.”
“I mean a man should not extend his life through magic. Let me tell you the story of the three stones.” The old man took a sip of his tea. “The original diamond was cleaved in two by our ancestor, Emperor Aurangzeb. He owned the stone, as his father and grandfather had before him. Word spread of the stone’s value, and it became known throughout the lands. It was written that the stone’s value could sustain the world for two days. The entire world, not only a small part of it, Saleem. You realize what this means? If you held the stone, you would be seen as a god, and so he was.
“Holding the stone also gave Aurangzeb the sight. He knew what was coming, knew his kingdom would be ransacked, his diamond stolen from him, and the lands would fall to strangers and he would not be able to prevent it. He came up with a plan. He engaged the Italian lapidary Borgio to cut the stone, ostensibly so that it would be made more beautiful and be remarked upon by all with more envy and awe.
“Publicly, it was said that Borgio mangled the job, taking the incredible seven-hundred-and-ninety-three-carat diamond down to a mere hundred eighty-three carats. Despite the huge mistake, Aurangzeb displayed this smaller stone for the world’s amazement.
“Privately, however, Borgio had been instructed to cleave the stone into two parts. Aurangzeb kept the larger piece for himself. He placed it in a small rosewood box for his descendants and hid it until he was dying and told his son, and so it passed from generation to generation.”
He tapped a long finger on the rosewood box on the table.
“Later, when the British stole the smaller stone, now called the Koh-i-Noor, from Duleep Singh, your great-great-great-grandfather, they cut it further still, to make it pretty for the paltry British.
“Hear me well, young Saleem. The stone cannot be destroyed. And the dust from this final cut was gathered into a bag, and overnight, it healed itself, and thus became the third brother.”
The old man coughed, and Saleem gave him more tea, wiped his chin. He sank back in his chair, his voice growing softer and further away.
“Not only will it forever heal itself, it will heal man, as well.” He pointed at the box. “This is only one piece of the original stone, the largest, as I’ve told you. You must find the other two and unite them. If you cannot, it is your sacred duty to pass this piece of the precious diamond and the truth behind it to your son, so he may continue the quest. Why have I told you, instead of waiting for your father to pass the legend along?” His grandmother smiled, a funny smile that made Saleem want to laugh. “I do not believe in chance, Saleem. I believe in redundancy. Now both descendants know. It is safest, I think.”
Saleem was very quiet. He was confused and upset. All this talk of stones and death and healing, he did not know what to make of it. His grandfather was a very old man; perhaps he was raving mad. He did not understand this redundancy.
Saleem tried to pull his arm away from his grandfather’s clawed grasp, but the old man held tighter.
“The diamond’s prophecy, Saleem. You must remember the prophecy. The world only knows part of it, the curse of the Koh-i-Noor:
“He who owns this diamond will own the world,
but will also know all its misfortunes.
Only God, or a woman, can wear it with impunity.
“Only our family knows the second part of the prophecy. This is our secret:
“When Krishna’s stone is unbroken again,
the hand which holds it becomes whole.
Wash the Mountain of Light in woman’s blood,
so we will know rebirth and rejoice.”
Saleem would say anything to get away now. “I will remember.”
His grandfather’s voice strengthened, echoed throughout the room. “The stone gifted to our people by Surya through Krishna is in three pieces. The largest piece you’ve now seen for the first time. The second piece resides in Tower of London, stolen by the British marauders who knew not the true power of the stone. And the third piece, the reassembled parts from the cut Koh-i-Noor, disappeared in 1852, when Queen Victoria had the stone recut to please her people. You and your father must find the two stones and bring them home, and reunite the three stones together again.”
He fell back against the velvet chair, exhausted. His eyes closed, and Saleem wanted desperately to run from the room.
Yet he wanted to touch the gleaming stone again, hear the shouts and the screams, feel the power and the excitement.
The stone had spoken to him. He had heard its voice.
Saleem’s hand crept toward the box, and his grandfather’s eyes shot open. His voice was strong and clear.
“This is your destiny, Saleem. Your life will be consumed by this quest, as it consumed me and now consumes your father. Know this: all before you have failed. But if you do succeed, Saleem, you must see the stone home.”
“Home?”
