She slapped her chest and keened. "I beg for your mercy."

The saint ignored the plea and ordered his men to move faster.

On noticing the change in pace, she lowered her grasp from the legs to the Saint's feet and said, "You have to take me with him; nothing can stop me."

"Young lady, stop badgering us. We'll be late, and our boss has a fiery temper."

"He'll be glad to have two souls instead of one," she snapped.

"I can't. Your name is not on my list."

She pleaded, "All right Babajee (a respectful moniker for an old man), I'll leave, if you grant me a tiny wish."

Frustrated by her persistent harassment, the saint grumbled, "All right, just one wish, other than releasing the spirit of your husband."

"Okay, grant me two sons."

The saint smiled and said, "I accede to your desire. Now release the iron grip on my feet."

She thanked the saint and disengaged her clasp.

The Yammas, led by the saint, resumed their journey toward the gates of a huge hall where the spirits are checked with the ledgers maintained by the angels.

The saint ordered his men to speed up to make up for lost time. After one minute, he looked back and found Sheila still tagging them. He shouted, "Young lady, I granted your wish, and you gave me a solemn promise not to bother me. Why are you still chasing us?"

"Babajee, I'm requesting you to keep your word."

"I've granted you two sons, and you'll have those."

"How can I? You're taking away my husband."

The saint snaked his fingers through his beard, slapped his forehead, sighed, and said, "Oh, I forgot you live in India where a widow can never marry again. Young lady, you tricked me. I can't break my promise and am forced to release your husband."

The saint ordered his men to remove the straps, and she noticed her husband's spirit shooting down to earth. Then the saint patted her head and asked, "Child, can you assist me?"

She bowed with folded hands.

"If my men go empty-handed, god Shiva will grill us. You can help me to get out of this fix."

"Babajee, I'm prepared to do anything you want."

"Well, the devil has captured one spirit which is running wild in your village, hurting many people. With the devil's help, it evaporates from our nets, and god Shiva is annoyed with us."

She arched her brows. "What can I do?"

"Help us to catch that spirit."

"Babajee, where is the spirit?"

"It lives in the banyan tree near your village cremation grounds. Last night, your husband was riding in his fields, and when he came near this tree, it scared his horse and placed a thick branch in the horse's path. The horse bolted, and this tree limb cracked your husband's skull."

"How can I find it?"

"Search the thick growth of bushes under the banyan tree, and you'll find the skeleton of an old Brahmin priest. During moonless nights, he used to rape young girls here. His heart failed while he was copulating with a minor. The terrified child ran to her home and didn't reveal it to anyone. This Brahmin had broken his priestly vows, and he didn't get proper funeral services. Thus, he offered a perfect target to the devil, who spotted and enslaved him. If you can cremate his body with proper rituals, then he'll lose the devil's grip, and we'll nab him."

She smiled. "We'll start in the morning."

The saint shook his head. "No, you must begin right now. I want his spirit before sunrise, the end of our shift."