29
KALINDA
Deven’s head slumps to the side. Smoke rises off his chest, the foul scent of scorched flesh stomach curdling. Udug’s fire burned through his tunic, down to his skin. His flesh is charred and seared. The need to go to him claws at me, but Udug nears the threshold. Anu, don’t let Deven die, I pray and cross to the palace door, leaving Ashwin to care for Deven.
“Don’t come any farther,” I shout to Udug.
“Dearest Kalinda,” he purrs, “how are you enjoying the cold-fire I gifted you?”
“I don’t care for your poison. Take it back.”
His taunting laugh knocks against my tender spots. “I heard about the Samiya temple. I admire your nerve. Few mortals would dare burn down one of the gods’ sanctuaries. You must admit now that you belong to the dark.”
“No, Udug. I belong right here.”
Behind him, across a gulley in the palace grounds, Yatin clobbers a soldier. Sister warriors combat more imperial troops, the onslaught contained on the far side of the ravine. Our side is strewn with the dead.
Udug paces sideways, his arrogant smile needling into my skin. He means to unnerve me with his resemblance to Tarek, but my heart is free. “You could have only survived this long by feasting upon another’s soul-fire,” he says. “Was it delicious? Did you savor their warmth?”
“I’m not like you.” I ready my powers, my hands glowing greener by the second.
He glares at the blood dripping from my wrists. “You cannot carve out your true self. The demon part of you is too strong.”
Udug strikes me with a torrent of cold-fire. I defend myself with my blue burning hands. His powers propel me back, my feet skidding across the ground. The flames disperse, and I stop. Udug is directly before me. He grabs my chin, fingers biting like icicles, and breathes his powers into my mouth and nose. The freezing poison slithers inside me, reawakening the toxins my bloodletting banked.
“Nothing strengthens a demon more than bhuta soul-fire,” Udug croons. “Stepping into the palace is merely a formality. I have stored up enough powers to outlast every army in the world. Nothing in your realm can hurt me. The evernight is coming, Kalinda. You cannot stop us, but you can join us.”
Udug lets go. I land sprawled at his feet. His powers return twofold, insatiable in their greed. The flames frost my heart, digging icy shards into my muscles and weakening my bones to brittle. I spasm and writhe, bathing in a bitter sea.
He steps over me. Once he enters the palace, the heart’s wish of the prince will be satisfied, and the blue flames inside me will prevail. My soul-fire will collapse, a broken star, and wherever Udug goes, I will go with him.
Perhaps I belong with him. His poison could not survive in me were I not part monster. Perhaps I should let him have me so he will leave this place.
I grip my teeth against the agony. “Bring me with you. Just stop the pain.”
Udug watches me thrash around. “You wish to serve the God of the Evernight?”
“Yes,” I pant. “Please, take your powers from me and I’ll go with you.”
He strides back slowly, prolonging my suffering, and bends over me. “I will collect my powers from you, but first you must swear fealty to the evernight. Do you vow to obey Kur in all things?”
I gaze across the room at Deven. Going with Udug would mean never seeing him again. Deven is too good for the Void. After this life, Anu will send him to the Beyond. I understand why we call it that now. The Beyond is outside mankind’s reach—and beyond the reach of the Void. Darkness cannot dwell in the light. I can ultimately only belong to one or the other. And I know which god I serve.
“No.” I reach for the vile cold-fire inside me, push it into my hands—and shoot it at him. My sapphire flames strike Udug’s upper torso. He stumbles back, his shoulder scorched.
Nothing in our realm can hurt him.
I hurl more sapphire fire at him. He slings his own at me, but I roll out of its path. Mine slams him squarely in the middle. He flies backward through the palace door and lands in the entry, grasping at his charred chest.
The blue light in his hands dims. I stand over him, my fingers glowing sapphire.
“Darkness, return to me,” he commands.
His powers within me abruptly still and disintegrate, as though dismantling my skeleton bone by bone. I stagger to my knees, my head washed with dizziness. Udug’s cold poison pours out my nose and mouth and evaporates like fog. The plumes retreat until every last cold flame has left me.
I hunch over, trembling and faint, as though I have fallen from the sky. Udug lifts his hand to blast his muted powers at me, but he waivers and slackens. Tarek’s empty gaze stares into nothing. Sulfur-scented smoke curls from his parted lips.
Udug recalled his powers from me to save himself, but he was already too injured to survive.
Warmth floods me, relighting my soul-fire and restocking my bhuta powers. I need not close my eyes and search for my inner star. I have lived so long in the dark, I recognize the light.
Across the entry, Ashwin kneels beside Deven. I start to drag myself over to them, but halfway there, Ashwin points behind me and whispers my name.
Blue light emanates from Tarek’s corpse. The saturation of the azure brightness increases until it stings my eyes. I shield my sight, and when I look again, Tarek’s body crumbles apart.
A scabby, pale demon with grotesque veins, bat-like fangs, and buggy eyes wriggles out of the carcass. The demon’s skin is so translucent I can see its thumping heart. Its spiny, transparent wings unfurl, slimy with mucus and riddled with veins of tar.
Udug’s true form grows larger until he stands taller than any man I know. Burns from our battle damaged one of his wings.
He arches his head and discharges a high-pitched screech. A chill breaks out over me. His otherworldly cry reaches the battlefield, and both sides pause. Udug bares his yellow-stained fangs and flaps his spiky wings. He rises in the rotunda, his wounded wing causing him to fly off-kilter. Finally, he swoops down and shoots out the door. The soldiers and sister warriors scream and dive from his path. The demon flies higher, soaring over the wall and city.
Gemi comes in from the corridor. Ashwin convinced her to take shelter after we arrived. “The demon can fly?” she says.
Deven groans. “Kali?”
I crawl to him and touch his chest. His burns have healed. His clothes are scorched, yet his skin is smooth and unblemished. “How?” I breathe.
“I don’t know.” Deven opens an arm to me. I lie down beside him and stroke his bearded chin.
Ashwin looks away from us. “Don’t question a mercy from the gods.”
Brac strides in, burn patches covering his trousers. “I lost sight of Udug over the desert.”
“I thought he was dead,” Gemi says.
“He cannot be killed,” Ashwin replies bleakly, “only vanquished.”
Out the open entryway, the bloodshed has ceased. When Udug flew away, the false rajah was unmasked. I hear Natesa calling for the imperial army to lay down their weapons and the rebels to rein in their powers. But peace arrives too late. Bodies litter the courtyard. Losses were sustained only on our side. Mankind’s.
“What now?” I ask, laying my cheek against Deven’s shoulder.
“Udug is injured. You saw him. He could barely fly out of here. Tomorrow, we’ll figure out how best to pursue him. For right now, we get off this hard floor.”
“In a minute.” I nuzzle into the crook of his neck, and for the first time in a long while, I am warm.
My open balcony door teems with morning light. I stretch my toes to the end of my canopy bed, reaching for sunshine. Noises of working men rise from the garden. Last night, Gemi closed the gulch in the palace grounds, and Brac led the surrendered rebels to the dungeons. Most had exhausted their powers during battle, preventing them from fighting or fleeing. Including Anjali, just over half survived.
Ashwin sent Deven and me to rest and then took charge, sorting through the dead and overseeing aid for the wounded. Though I wanted to visit with the ranis and courtesans, I was glad to leave the battle site. Until yesterday, none of my palace friends were aware that I am a Burner. We have much work to do to reeducate our people about bhutas.
Deven rubs his foot up my insole, tickling me. I prod him with my toe to stop.
“We should get up,” I say, a suggestion born of guilt more than desire.
Deven hooks me with his arm and drags me against him. “Not yet,” he mutters sleepily.
After peeling ourselves off the marble floor, we stumbled to my old bedchamber and passed out from exhaustion. I hardly remember pushing the ridiculously huge pile of satin pillows from the bed and falling asleep beside Deven.
In thinking over last night, I remember the initial death toll—twenty-one ranis and forty-nine courtesans. We have yet to tally the soldiers, though the total missing and deceased is anticipated to be in the thousands. Deven also informed me of Rohan’s demise. In turn, I told him of the destruction of the Samiya temple. My sorrow returns for all those who gave their lives, but some aspects of yesterday remain murky.
“How did you convince Hastin to unite with the sister warriors?”
Deven traces swirls across my arm. “I realized you were right and told him we needed to work together. I even gave a speech to the ranis and courtesans about your devotion to them.”
I splay my fingers across his chest, cherishing the low flicker of his soul-fire. “You did?”
“I was very complimentary.”
“Care to share what you said?”
He chuckles, a deep, rich sound. “Where’s your humility?”
“I have none when it comes to your praise.” I tuck my head beneath his chin and swing my leg over his, my knee high on his thigh. His sandalwood musk permeates my clothes and bedcovers.
“I told them you’ll do what’s right for the empire,” he says, his voice husky.
I slide my fingers under his tunic neckline to erase more distance between us. “Ashwin will do what’s right for them. Our people need to look to him for guidance.”
Deven stops drawing on my arm. “Are you and he still . . . close?”
“No, at least not that way. What you saw between us wasn’t real. Ashwin included me in his heart’s wish. In his ideal empire, he imagined me at his side. His vision protected me from harm but also drew me to him.”
Deven’s voice pitches to a dissatisfied grumble. “He manipulated you to get close to him?”
I’m not explaining this well. “Neither of us knew his heart’s wish had that much power. I figured it out in Samiya, and Ashwin had no idea. I would have told you if I knew.” I make myself ask the question I have been dreading since our argument in Lestari. “Did you—or do you—really believe I’d choose Ashwin over you?”
“I prefer not to think that your choice is between him and me, but me and your throne.”
I wrinkle my nose. “I never wished for my throne.”
“But you need it to accomplish the change you wish to see in the empire.” His answer is too smooth to convince me of his dispassion. Deven pretends not to care when he cares the most.
I rest my chin on his chest and gaze up at him. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I didn’t think you’d leave angry.”
“I didn’t think you wouldn’t say good-bye.”
“I tried.”
His composure cracks a little. “You did?”
“You were already in the air. Then Mathura came to see me . . .” I did not intend to discuss his mother. I rest my cheek on his chest again, but Deven is curious.
“Kali, what did my mother say?”
I decide against telling him that Mathura disapproves of our closeness, and instead, I summarize her opinion of me. “She thinks I’m foolish for not wanting to be a rani for the rest of my life.”
“My mother had a different experience in the palace than you. She wasn’t . . . valued as you and the other ranis were. To her, becoming a rani was the best life any courtesan could dream of. But she believes in you, Kali. And she’s right. You’re the rani the people need.” Deven brings the back of my hand to his lips, kissing the symbol of the kindred. “But you aren’t foolish for wishing for more. You have a right to your own dreams. That’s why I left without saying good-bye. I was angry, but I also wanted you to make up your own mind.” His heartbeat pounds against our chests. “Truthfully, I thought you’d choose Ashwin—er, your throne.”
“I care for Ashwin like family, but I fell in love with you before I was a rani.” I lay my hand upon his flat stomach. “The day will come when Ashwin will take his own wives, and I’ll step down as the empire’s kindred.”
Deven smooths my hair from my shoulder. “And then?”
“And then . . . I want a future with you. A future of our own making.”
He slides down the bed until we are eye level and strokes my hip. My nerves stir and tingle, hypersensitive to every glancing touch. His beard grazes my chin, his lips a head tilt away. “We have the same dream.”
He throws the sun-scented blanket over our heads. I stretch out against him, and he kisses me until my limbs quiver and my skin burns for more. Silky sheets, wet lips, and needy hands overrun my senses. We explore each other in ways we were never allowed to and never dared. No fears temper our desires. We set our dreams free, soaring to limitless heights of fulfilled wishes.
Deven tries to shift away, but I pull him closer. “Don’t go yet,” I whisper.
He kisses me long and slow, melting me into my pillow, and then sits up and tugs on his trousers and white tunic. The baggy sleeves hang off his arms, and the low neckline reveals the hard cuts of his chest.
He looks back at me. “It’s difficult to leave you.”
I grab the hair at the back of his head and drag his lips over mine. When I let go, hunger shines from his eyes, and I know I can coax him to slide back under the covers with me.
My door to the corridor swings opens. Giggles move across the room, and then Shyla, Eshana, and Parisa pile on the mattress with us. Asha strolls in behind them carrying a meal tray, a bandage wound around one hand. The ranis are covered in various scrapes and bruises. Parisa’s broken ribs are the worst injury. Bandages wrap around her torso beneath her sari. I do not miss what a mercy it is that we all survived.
“Morning, ladies,” Deven says too brightly for my taste.
Parisa assesses the flattering fit of Deven’s loose tunic. “Don’t you mean good afternoon? The kindred has kept you preoccupied.”
“Other way around, actually.” Deven galls me by adding a wink.
Eshana fans herself at his suggestive tone. “The prince is looking for you, and we need to ask Kalinda a few questions.” Her pointed stare is a push for Deven to leave.
“General Naik forgot to tell us how handsome the prince is,” Parisa adds.
“Or how kind,” says Shyla. Her baby girl, Rehan, sits on her lap and sucks one of her mother’s few fingers on her maimed left hand. “He kissed Rehan on the head when he met her.”
“My apologies.” Deven taps my nose in farewell. “I’ll leave you ladies to chat.”
I sit up, clutching the blanket around me. “Do you want me to come with you and find out what the prince needs?” I am not dressed, but I can be in a moment. These women have just learned I am a Burner. I am nervous about what they will say.
Deven tosses one of the fallen bed pillows at me, and I catch it. “Stay and enjoy your friends.” His eyes twinkle, knowing I would rather go with him, but Eshana and Parisa start to natter about Ashwin’s dashing chin, and Deven slips out.
“The prince is even more attractive than Tarek, and—Oh, Kindred.” Parisa picks up my hand and clucks her tongue. “Your nails are ghastly!”
Eshana runs her fingers down my tresses. “But she still has the comeliest hair.”
“Perhaps the kindred wants to get out of bed,” suggests Asha, folding her arms over her chest.
“Doesn’t Asha look pretty?” Shyla notes of my servant. “We had a lot of free time while we were trapped in the Tigress Pavilion. It took some persuading, but Asha finally removed that hideous veil and let us do her nails. Even her toenails are painted!”
“Asha has always been beautiful,” I reply, and her color turns as red as her nails.
“You could have told us you’re a Burner,” Shyla says, altering the tone of the mood.
I grip Rehan’s little hand in mine to avoid meeting their gazes. “I was afraid you’d hate me.”
Eshana throws her arms around me, followed by a more careful Parisa protecting her sore ribs. “We could never hate you, Kalinda,” Eshana says “Your rank tournament brought peace to the palace.” I jolt, certain I had done the opposite. “Your victory brought the courtesans and ranis together. We’re sister warriors fighting alongside each other now instead of against one another.”
“You’re our kindred,” Parisa adds. “We were so worried when you left.”
I never imagined they would miss me. “I worried about you too.”
Shyla cuddles Rehan closer. “Asha kept saying you’d return. None of us doubted you.”
Asha holds herself removed from us. Eshana extends her arm to her, and Asha adds her hug to our collection. Seeing them treat her as an equal gives me hope that change can come to Tarachand.
“Um, Kalinda,” Eshana says, letting me go, “I do believe you’re nude.”
Parisa smacks her side lightly. “As if you didn’t know!”
“I didn’t! I thought she and the general were . . .” Eshana flushes a flattering pink. “Oh my. Does this mean you have no claim on Prince Ashwin?”
Parisa tosses a pillow at her. “I was going to ask her!”
Their petty arguing draw laughs from the rest of us.
“You’re free to pursue the prince.” In fact, I look forward to witnessing how Ashwin fares against the vivacious Parisa and flirtatious Eshana.
A streak of red-orange zips past my open balcony. I slip into my robe and go outside. Tinley and Chare land in the garden. The other women rush out to view the mahati falcon. As they marvel over Chare, I dress, strapping on my mother’s daggers as always, and rush downstairs.
The garden smells of ripe lemons dangling from their trees. I duck under one and walk up to Tinley. “I thought you left Tarachand.”
“I did.” She drinks from her water flask and continues. “We were returning to Paljor when the wind told me Udug escaped. Chare and I tracked him across the desert. He stopped there at dawn to tend to his injured wing. He’ll rest during the day and travel at night.”
All cheerfulness filters out of my good mood. “Is Udug headed for the gate?”
“He must be.” Tinley turns her milky eyes to the clear sky. “The sun was full when I woke this morning.”
At first, I do not understand her meaning, but as I shade my eyes and focus on the sun, I notice a slice of it is missing.
A shadow is eclipsing the sun’s supernal light.
The eclipse is slight, but even as I stand here, the veil falls further and my dread deepens. Demon powers are stronger in the dark. Stopping Udug from opening the gate when the sun is fully eclipsed will be impossible.
Ashwin must have seen this and sought out Deven. The two are probably strategizing a plan right now. Ashwin will want to avoid hysteria, and Deven will employ our resources to stop Udug. The other sovereigns will see the sun disappearing and send help, but rallying our allies will take time. The darker the sky becomes, the less likely we are to stop Udug.
I eye the falcon munching on a mouse that she frightened out from behind a bush. “Could Chare fly fast enough to outpace Udug to Samiya?”
“He has a head start, so it’ll be close. You’ll make better time without me.” Tinley pets her falcon’s side with her long, sharp nails. “Chare is quicker than any wind I can summon, and my added weight would slow her.”
“You were headed home,” I say, remembering what she told me.
“I thought I’d try.” Tinley tosses her silver hair behind her, a nonchalant gesture undone by the ache in her voice. “Truth be told, I miss it.”
My gaze lifts to the battle-worn palace. Holes pockmark the walls and roofs, but the structure held. The palace is my home now. So many people I love are here, and they are finally free. I have to force Udug through the gate and vanquish him.
“Everything you need is in the saddlebag.” Tinley hoists me into the woven saddle. Chare turns her head and blinks at me.
I grab a fistful of her neck feathers as I have observed her rider do. “Thank you, Tinley. Please tell General Naik and Prince Ashwin I said good-bye.”
“I’m sure that’ll pacify them,” she says dryly. Tinley steps back and whistles through her teeth. “Chare, take Kalinda to Samiya. Show her what it is to outrun the wind.”
The falcon opens her wings and launches into the sky. My stomach dives as we ascend over Vanhi. I steal one last glimpse of the palace, then we level off and zoom over the desert, racing the vanishing sun.