5
KALINDA
Shadows swathe my bedchamber. Natesa and Yatin are shut in her antechamber, their supper scraps left on the terrace, deserted beside a lit lamp. I envy their freedom to shut out the world and lose themselves in one another.
Deven has not yet returned. I did not want to leave him behind, but Indah and the admiral suggested they show me more of the palace, and I could not stand Princess Gemi a moment longer. She sat so close to Deven during supper she was nearly in his lap.
A warm gust grazes my ear, but a blizzard rages inside me. I gravitate to the lamp and lean over nature’s flame. My soul’s reflection takes form—a fire dragon. I study the small, serpentine figure for changes since the Voider poured his cold-fire inside me, but it gazes up as usual and awaits my command.
You’re a lovely sight. I reach for the fire dragon, seeking its warmth. I am not afraid of a burn or any other reprisal. Both of us are born of fire, though only one of us is the master.
My hand touches the flame, and the dragon recoils. Shh. I am fire, and fire is me. The dragon bares its fangs and then flies down into the center of the flame and vanishes.
The lamplight flickers in the breeze. My soul’s reflection has never retreated from me before. I suppress a shudder, the cold inside me seeming to snicker at my failed effort to elude it. What are my powers good for? Tarachandians believe I should be stoned or locked up. The sultan believed bhutas should be slaves. And the datu treats our gifts like sideshow displays. I did not master nature-fire or learn how to scorch and parch soul-fire to entertain people.
But I have always flouted convention. My fevers made me an outcast at the temple, and my disgust for Tarek made me an outcast at the palace. My uncommon Burner powers make me unusual even among bhutas. I was born a rogue. I am the daughter of a Burner and a rani. Two people that by all rights should never have fallen in love. I came into this world with a purpose, to finish what my parents began. The Voider can steal Tarek’s identity, our army, and our people, but he cannot take away my birthright.
I wave my hand, and the flame puffs out.
Darkness rushes in, and a heavy, burdensome premonition prickles at me. Someone is here. I draw one of the twin daggers strapped to my thighs and peer into my shadowy room. Out of the darkness steps a man not of flesh and bone. He consists of the vile parts that are left after a body decays. I throw out a heatwave and illuminate him.
“Tarek?” I whisper.
He shields his eyes. “Put out the light.” Tarek’s voice wrenches me out of my shock. I push more soul-fire into my fingers. He shies from the radiance. “I’ve come to warn you.”
“You’re dead.”
“Kalinda, I will not see my empire fall. Tarachand is my legacy.”
Every pain he caused me fires off inside my head and heart. I want to let the past go, put all this ugliness behind me, but my memories shackle me.
“Your legacy is of fear and hatred.” My hands burn brighter. Tarek cringes, and his indistinct form begins to fade. “Go away. You’ll find no mercy here.”
He peeks out from behind his blurry fingers. His haunting voice roughens. “Kalinda, I still love you—”
I hurl a heatwave at him. His hazy shape shatters into a thousand oblivions that shower down, hit the floor, and disappear.
Light. I need light. Shaking all over, I rush around, lighting every lamp until the chamber is aglow. I slump down onto the bed.
I still love you.
I rap my fists against my head to bang out his voice. “Leave me alone. Just leave me alone.” In the abrupt silence that follows, my clarity sharpens to an unbearable point. “I hate you,” I whisper to him, wherever he may be. But my abhorrence is irrelevant. To the gods, our marital bond ties my soul to his. I will be Tarek’s wife for eternity.
Someone touches my shoulder. I whirl around with my dagger, and Ashwin lurches out of striking distance. “It’s me.”
I drop my blade. “You snuck up on me.”
“I knocked before I came in. Are you all right? You’re shivering.”
“I . . .” Not knowing where to begin, I start to cry. Ashwin enfolds me in his arms. I clutch him close and rest my cheek against the hollow of his neck. A steady current of heat flows off him and into me. “You’re so warm,” I push out from between chattering teeth.
“What happened?”
“Tarek was here.” My tears flow faster. “Why couldn’t Jaya have visited me? My soul should be tied to hers, not his.”
“Kali, you’re making no sense. You saw Tarek?”
“He was a shadow, but it was him. He said—he said—” My voice hitches, and I press my cheek hard against Ashwin’s collarbone. He rubs my back, his heart drumming near my ear. “Do you think I’m bound to him forever?”
“No one can rule your heart, not even the gods.”
“But our matrimony vows—”
“Marital bonds cannot last past death; otherwise every marriage in every life would be honored. Think of the tangle of nuptials.” He runs his hand down my hair. “As I understand it, souls aren’t bound by wedding vows but by love.”
I swipe my forearm across my damp nose. “Tarek repulses me. Don’t you despise him?”
“He angered me sometimes . . . but mostly he made me sad.” Ashwin pauses and then whispers, “We were both a disappointment to each other.”
I do not share his rationale. “I hope Tarek suffers an eternity of darkness for taking Jaya from me.”
Ashwin leans back until we are eye level. “Tarek hasn’t taken Jaya away forever. Have you heard the tale of Inanna’s Descent?”
“Once.” Non-deity myths were not part of my studies. I am in no mood to listen to childish stories, but Ashwin wants to cheer me up, so I oblige him. “Inanna went into the Void to search for her lost intended.”
“Her intended was not lost. A demon seduced him. Demons have corporeal bodies like you and me, though they’re monstrous. This particular demon had the power to assume a mortal form.”
Much like the power Ashwin gave the Voider when he released him to fulfill his heart’s wish, but he brushes over this similarity.
“The night before their wedding, the demon took the form of Inanna and entered her intended’s bedchamber. Trusting the demon was Inanna, he went off with her into the evernight.” I settle closer to Ashwin, his voice a mild rumble. “The next morning, Inanna donned her wedding robes and set off to be married. She waited at the altar all day for her intended, but he did not come. Jilted, she returned home and locked herself away. She refused to see anyone and could not find the strength to change out of her bridal attire. Many nights later, she woke to find her intended at her bedside. He could not step out of the dark, nor could she light a lamp without him fading. He had traveled by shadow to tell her he was trapped in the Void.”
Traveled by shadow. Ashwin once told me that when the day was made, so was the night. When man was made, so was his shadow. The Void dwells in darkness, and life dwells in light. Can spirits in the Void, both living and dead, travel into the mortal realm so long as they stay in the dark? Is that how Tarek came to me? “I never understood how Inanna’s intended visited her.”
“Numerous sources cite that mortals trapped in the Void are confined to the dark. They can visit our world at night, but they must return to the realm below during the day. Inanna spent every night with her intended. But she could not bear to leave him in the dark for eternity, so she descended below to find him and came upon the first of seven gates. Each guardian required a toll for her passage and to point her in the right direction. Inanna paid with the clothing and adornments of her wedding attire. After the final gate, her torchlight went out. Inanna feared she would be lost in the dark forever, but she sensed her intended was close by. Following the promptings of her heart, she found him near death. She had to get him out, but she could not see the way. Inanna cried up to the gods, but none would listen except the fire-god Enlil, who had a weakness for mortal women. He took pity on Inanna and sent her an ever-burning ember to light their path back to the mortal realm.”
Ashwin skims his finger under my chin. His voice gentles between us, a silky caress. “Love bound Inanna and her intended together and gave them direction in the dark. If their love can overcome the Void, so can yours bind you to Jaya in this life and the next.”
Tears blur my sight. I did not think a tale could lessen my sorrow, but Ashwin’s storytelling and assurances soothe me.
The mood between us shifts. The intent of his touches changes from comfort to one of need. His hug becomes more for him than me, and his heart beats faster.
I should pull back. Push him away. But his nearness calms the blizzard inside me. I am not parching his soul-fire. He is bequeathing it to me.
Ashwin settles his forehead against mine, his gaze trained on my mouth. His thumb brushes over my bottom lip, and my stomach bubbles like hot springs. His breath smells of cinnamon. A craving for more of him ripples out in a wave. How much warmer would I feel with his lips on me? I tip up my chin and wait for more of his light.
“Kali,” Deven says.
He stands in the doorway, his emotions progressing from disbelief to hurt. Ashwin’s arms fall from around me, and my teeth clack together, snapping me back into focus.
Deven crosses the chamber and throws Ashwin to the floor. “You have no honor! You’re taking advantage of her loyalty!”
His fury shocks me. He rarely reacts without forethought or context. “Deven! I was upset and—and Ashwin found me.” I reach for him, but he brushes me aside.
Natesa and Yatin run in from the other room in their nightclothes and draw up straight.
Ashwin shuffles back from Deven on his elbows. “Kalinda is aware of her actions. I’m not forcing her to stay with me. This is her choice.”
Deven leans over Ashwin and grabs the front of his tunic. “Keep your hands off her.”
Ashwin yanks himself from Deven’s grasp. “Touch me again, General, and I’ll have you imprisoned.”
“Both of you stop it!” I say.
“I’m not your general,” Deven grits out. “I won’t serve a man I don’t respect.”
“Deven,” I breathe. “You don’t mean that.”
He retreats from Ashwin, his arms and fists bunched. “I serve you. But if you continue to align yourself with this boy . . .”
“You’ll denounce me too?” The challenge slips out of me testier than I intended. But the thought of him coming between Ashwin and me . . . I need Ashwin’s warmth.
Deven draws up to his full height. “My apologies, my queen. You’re free to do as you wish.”
He revolves and marches out.
“Deven, wait!” I hurry after him, but he whisks ahead. In my effort to keep up, my limp worsens. We venture down corridor after corridor, and I quickly lose my bearings. I ignore the pain in my leg for as long as possible, but when he is nearly out of sight, I double over. “Deven, please.”
He pauses and stares over his shoulder at me, his flinty expression split by shadows. “How long have you and the prince . . . ?”
“We became friends in Iresh,” I say. “What was said at supper about us was for the datu. He’ll aid the empire so long as he thinks Ashwin and I are committed.”
“Then what was that just now? Were you practicing your commitment?”
“That was . . .” A mistake. But my excuses will only serve to bruise him more deeply. Telling him Ashwin’s closeness acts as a balm for my wounds is ridiculous. I cannot understand the oddity of our connection myself.
“Are you in love with him?” Deven questions, eerily calm.
I hug my torso, trying to strangle the cold inside me. My need for heat is paramount, unquenchable. For whatever reason, Ashwin answers that necessity. I cannot deny he has some hold over me. “No, but we . . . we need each other.”
Deven drops his chin, his jaw twitching. “I told you once that I won’t stand by while you spend every meal, every public showing, at another man’s side. I told you I want you by my side, and I still do.”
“And I still want to be there.”
He lifts his gaze and searches me for sincerity. I meant what I said. He must see that. But bleakness enters his voice. “I won’t interfere again. When you decide what you want, I’ll be waiting.”
Deven charges off without a second glance. I lunge after him, but pain shoots through my knee. Backing up, I rest against the wall and push my palm over my heart. Maybe I can wring out whatever nonsense has come over me. I care for Ashwin, but I love Deven.
My body trembles from indecision. Even after recognizing the distinction of my feelings, hunger rises in me to return to the prince’s pacifying arms . . .
Gods, I’m incorrigible.
I lower myself to the cool floor and rest my leg. The Voider’s icy breath rages within me, freezing me to my spot. The corridors all look identical. I chased Deven so far, I cannot recall the path back to my chamber. Not that it matters. I have little strength to do anything except huddle into myself and try to regain some warmth.
A nudge rouses me awake. “Were you here all night?” Indah asks, standing over me.
Morning’s first rays lighten the corridor. I push up from the floor, astonished I slept here. I understand why neither Deven nor Ashwin searched for me, but I am surprised Natesa or Yatin did not come looking. They must have assumed I was with Deven. “What time is it?”
“Dawn.” Indah joins me on the floor, our backs leaning against the wall. “The navy is finishing preparations for the voyage. We’ll leave for Iresh soon.”
“Did Ashwin and the datu come to an agreement last night?” I was so upset when Ashwin found me, I forgot to ask.
“I don’t know about the prince, but Bulan is pleased. Ashwin offered up lumber, grain, and livestock in exchange for our help. Our food stores have been low for some time, and we don’t have enough land to cultivate the agriculture necessary for our population.” Indah presses a hand to her stomach.
“You still aren’t feeling well?”
“I’m a bit run down from traveling, but I’m fine,” she says. “I’m glad I found you. I didn’t get a chance to ask you last night: Do you and Ashwin intend to marry?”
“You know we don’t. Why?”
Her lips mash together. “At supper, when Ashwin said you weren’t officially set to wed . . . he wasn’t telling the truth.”
Indah can sense the blood flowing through another’s body, specifically when someone’s pulse speeds up, such as when they are lying. Her prowess for sensing people’s dishonesty is a valued asset, but it can be disconcerting when someone I know is her target.
“Are you certain?” I ask. Ashwin would not go against his promise to relinquish his first rights to me.
“I don’t know what it means,” Indah says, quick to qualify her inkling. “I only know what I sensed.”
“But I’m not his intended.”
“Does he know that?”
“Yes . . .” After Indah’s persistent silence, I add, “I—I think so.”
My actions may have confused more than just me. In all fairness to Ashwin, I have acted erratically lately. I must dissolve this strange bond between us. Yet even as I resolve to speak with him, like a rabbit scurrying into a cozy burrow to escape winter, I want to bundle myself in his arms.
Datu Bulan strolls down the corridor, sporting a knee-length night tunic and oversized sandals. He carries a water cup, sipping from it every so often. “Blessed be Enki’s sea, ladies.” He does not let on if he finds it peculiar that we are seated in his corridor. Staring down into his cup, he says, “I once traded ten coconuts for an icicle frozen by a northern Aquifier. It melted by the time I brought it home, but that water was the freshest drink I ever had.”
I cast an inquisitive glance at Indah. Northern Aquifiers dwell in the arctic tundra and are rumored to manipulate ice and snow. How the datu came upon one or why he thought an icicle would last in the Southern Isles is beyond me.
He strides away, his sandals slapping against the floor, and then halts. “Indah, I do believe Pons is looking for you.”
She shifts to a kneeling position. “He’s returned?”
“He and the others.”
“What others?” I ask.
“Come on.” Indah stands and hoists me up. I hurry down the corridor with her.
“He’s in the prince’s chamber,” Datu Bulan calls after us.
Indah pulls ahead of me and reaches Ashwin’s open door first. Pons stands outside the threshold. They saw each other just yesterday, yet Indah clutches him close. Pons’s arms come around her slowly; he is taken aback by her open affection.
“You didn’t tell me you were leaving,” she says.
Rarely have I seen Indah fret over Pons. They are usually together, but they were not always. Pons was born in the sultanate, while Indah is a native Lestarian.
“I didn’t want to worry you,” Pons says, then sees me from over Indah’s shoulder, and they shuffle out of the doorway.
Within the chamber, Ashwin is seated at a desk with piles of books before him. His hair and tunic are rumpled from a sleepless night. I am within his sight, but he pays me no heed. I lock my knees to stop myself from rushing to him and alleviating my inner cold at his side. He must be hurt that I ran after Deven last night instead of staying. Offending those I care about has become a terrible habit of mine. How will I make this right?
I am so preoccupied with Ashwin, I overlook the other people in the room.
A middle-aged woman drags me into her arms. “You’re even skinnier than I recall.”
“Mathura!” I hug her back, inhaling her jasmine scent. Her dark-brown hair is tied back in a braid, the customary style for an imperial courtesan. Her sari is travel worn, but she still appears stately.
Rohan sits off to the side on the terrace. Dishes of food are set before the young Galer, who is known for his big appetite, but Rohan slumps in his chair and touches none of it. His older sister, Opal, is not here. I do not see Brac either . . .
Deven races into the room, halts abruptly while surveying the chamber, and then flies at his mother. They embrace as tight as they can.
“You’re thinner too.” Mathura pats her son’s cheek. “And you need a shave.”
He chuckles—one of my favorite sounds. “I’ve missed you too, Mother.” His scarlet uniform jacket hangs open, and a day’s worth of facial hair covers his jawline. I love him this way best, when he is in between a smooth face and a full beard, neither done up nor undone.
Ambassador Chitt barges into the chamber, his chest heaving as though he has run the length of the island. He walks to Mathura, never taking his sight off her. “I was preparing to embark when I heard of your arrival.”
Mathura extends her hand, and he cups it in his. “It’s been a long time,” she says.
They know each other? I watch Deven for an explanation, but he is unreadable.
“You’re even more beautiful than I remember,” Chitt murmurs, and Mathura’s cheeks pinken. I cannot recall if I have ever seen her blush. “Where’s your other son?”
Deven snaps his chin sideways and scans the room. His gaze catches mine momentarily and then barrels onward as though I were a stone he kicked out of his way. “Mother, where’s Brac?”
Mathura tenses in anticipation of his reaction. “I meant to tell you as soon as you walked in. Brac isn’t here.”
“Where is he?” Deven’s low question slices, an order that must be met.
Rohan answers, his voice abysmal. “Brac and Opal were flying near the Tarachand border when their wing flyer was shot down. We tried to circle back, but the demon rajah’s army was upon them. Opal sent a message on the wind for us to go. We lost sight of her, and I haven’t heard anything since.”
Deven freezes. The same dread locks me in place. I fear for Deven and his family, but even more so for Rohan. He and Opal were orphaned after their Galer mother was executed in a bhuta raid. They have only each other. My chest squeezes in empathy. His dependence on his sister reminds me how much I relied on Jaya.
Ashwin pushes up from his desk. “The imperial army is at the border? We were told the demon rajah is still in Iresh.”
“Our informants were misled,” Pons replies, coming into the chamber with Indah. “I flew over Iresh. The city has been abandoned. Only the Tarachandian civilians and a few soldiers remain. The imperial army will cross into the empire soon.”
“How is that possible?” Ashwin sputters out. “Your scouts said—”
“They were listening at a good distance,” Pons explains. “They heard travelers leaving Iresh and assumed they were Janardanians fleeing.”
“Was my brother captured by the demon rajah?” Deven asks, still motionless.
Mathura flourishes her hands in chagrin. “We don’t know.”
The navy is useless now. Their ships cannot reach a landlocked army. “Pons, how long until the army reaches Vanhi?” I ask.
“At the rate they’re marching, six days.”
Ashwin pounds his fists against the desk and hunches over, startling Rohan. “I need to speak with the general and the kindred alone. Everyone else is dismissed.”
Indah and Pons leave without a word. Rohan slogs out after them, his breakfast gone cold.
Deven embraces his mother again. “Brac will be all right.”
Mathura lays her cheek against his shoulder. “I lost him once. I cannot lose him again.”
Brac was presumed dead until a few moons ago, a cover-up for his real mission of joining the rebels. He worked with Hastin to unseat Rajah Tarek but gave up that life when he reunited with his family.
Deven holds Mathura for a long moment. “I’ll find him, Mother. I swear it.”
She releases him, and I fight back the urge to take her place in his arms. I do not need his comfort; I want to comfort him.
Chitt offers Mathura his elbow, and they go. Only Deven, Ashwin, and I remain. Given our quarrel last night, it is a wonder we are all in the same room together without arguing.
Ashwin waits until the door shuts and extends a letter to us. “Late last night, I received a message from the bhuta warlord. Hastin has requested a meeting with the kindred and me.”
Of course Hastin knows where we are. He has informants all over the continent.
Deven demonstrates no inclination to take the letter, so I do and read the warlord’s message aloud. “‘I would like to propose an accord. Meet me in Samiya to discuss uniting against the demon rajah.’”
My heart yanks hard in my chest. I have not returned home since Tarek claimed me, but I dream of the mountains often. Jaya is always in my dreams, as is Deven. “Why the temple?”
“Samiya is a neutral site,” replies Ashwin. “Hastin wouldn’t dare attack us on sacred ground.”
“You’ve clearly never met the bhuta warlord,” Deven retorts.
I finger the Tarachand seal, a scorpion, at the top of the letter. Hastin stole this parchment from the rajah’s personal belongings in the palace. I want to disregard his request just to spite him, but I consider it for the ranis and courtesans he has trapped there. They and their children are caught in the middle of this war. An alliance could set them free.
“We should go,” I say.
Deven tugs the letter from my hand. “I cannot believe you’re considering this.”
“We cannot rightly ignore him. The demon rajah is more powerful than we are, and he has our army. The Lestarian Navy is of no use to us now.”
“Not entirely.” Deven tosses aside the letter. Ashwin tries to catch the corner, but it drifts out of reach to the floor. “Other waterways lead to Vanhi. The navy could still fight with us.”
“Hastin’s troops are already in Vanhi,” counters Ashwin. “With the rebel soldiers on our side, we can surround the imperial army when they reach the city.”
“The imperial army may be scattered, but it’s the largest in the world,” Deven explains. “On his way, the demon rajah will pick up deserters. The closer he gets to Vanhi, the more loyalists he will bring into his fold. Army outposts are stationed all along his route. His troops will rally with him, and his ranks will swell.”
“Even more reason why we need the rebels,” I counter. “Hastin may have a vendetta against Tarek, but he’s no fool. He knows he cannot defeat the demon rajah without help.”
“Do you really believe the rebels want to unite?” Deven jabs a finger at me, marking his every point. “Hastin betrayed you. He tried to murder Ashwin by burning down the Brotherhood temples. Hastin will sooner slit the prince’s throat than unite with Tarek’s heir.”
Ashwin swallows loudly, his color paling.
I have not forgotten Hastin’s actions. Nor has my guilt lessened over my former naivety. Hastin used me to further his vendetta against Tarek. The result goes beyond the loss of the Turquoise Palace and his imprisonment of the rajah’s wives and courtesans, many of whom are my friends. Hastin murdered palace guards and soldiers. To escape him, citizens fled the empire to the sultanate. Many fell ill with swamp sickness in the encampments and died. Our downtrodden people were primed for the return of Rajah Tarek. Without their hardships, I doubt they would have so readily accepted his miraculous resurrection. But thanks to Hastin and the landslide of suffering his insurgence caused, our people and army are now following a demon.
No, I have not forgotten Hastin’s part in our misery. But I am not the same woman I was when we first met. Hastin will not deceive me again, nor will he keep what is rightfully mine. He has my father’s journal, my only connection to my parents. The last time I saw the warlord, he dangled the journal before me as a bribe, but I refused to align with him over Ashwin. I have been patient long enough. I want what is mine.
“Kali, this is Hastin,” Deven says. “He’s setting a trap.”
I nearly crack under the weight of his warning, but the gods have preserved my life to stop the fall of the empire. And I will do just that. “We cannot stand against the demon rajah alone. Partnering with Hastin is our best chance of winning.”
“I’ll send him a carrier dove right away.” Ashwin selects a plain piece of parchment to jot his letter upon. “We’ll agree to meet at the Samiya temple, far away from the sea raiders and the imperial army.”
“You’ll also be far away from help when Hastin stabs you in the back,” Deven clips out.
“We have another reason to meet in Samiya.” Ashwin picks up an open book. “I spent the night researching demons in hope of discovering the Voider’s identity. Many demons serve Kur, but I narrowed them down per their abilities and found one that possesses the icy breath of cold-fire.” He shows us the page with a sketch of a demon exhaling a plume of blue flames.
Deven and I shuffle closer to read the caption beneath the drawing, and our sides bump. He steps away and tells Ashwin to summarize.
“The demon’s name is Udug, Kur’s top commander. Udug has three siblings, who are also eternal soldiers of Kur’s: Edimmu, Asag, and Lilu. All four of them possess a version of bhutas’ land, fire, sky, and water abilities.”
Deven’s brows shoot up. “Udug and his siblings have bhuta abilities?”
“A perverted form of them, though their powers are rarely seen in our realm. It’s a long-held belief that demons are more powerful in the dark.”
The Voider—Udug—serves the demon Kur, who holds a grudge that goes back millennia, to the war between the sky-god Anu and his primeval parents. Kur means to avenge the deaths of the primeval gods by wiping out mankind’s strongest connection to Anu—bhutas. The First Bhutas vanquished Udug long ago, and their method was recorded in a sacred book. A book Udug destroyed.
I point at the picture of the Voider. “What does any of this have to do with Samiya?”
“The gods’ temple was built at the top of the Alpana Mountains,” Ashwin answers. Every member of the Parijana faith believes in Ekur, the gods’ mountain house, though no mortal has seen it. “This book says the only way to vanquish a demon is to banish it, just like the First Bhutas did. We have to find the gate to the Void and return Udug through it. The gate is rumored to be hidden near Samiya.”
The sisters spoke often of Ekur, but they neglected to mention that an entry to the Void was close to our temple sanctuary. That is, assuming they are aware it is there.
Deven blusters out a breath. “Kali, he’s only trying to convince you to go with him. The rebels don’t want to make peace with us. Hastin will never side with him.” He motions at Ashwin. “He represents everything the warlord despises.”
Ashwin rubs the back of his neck tiredly. “Your concerns are noted, Deven.”
But his concerns are no excuse for his lack of compassion. Ashwin has scars running down his back from a lashing Tarek gave him. He suffered his father’s wrath as much as anyone. “Ashwin is not his father. You need to stop punishing him for Tarek’s actions.”
“I’m not punishing him. I’m reminding you who he is and how much Hastin hates him.” Deven puts his hands together as if in prayer, begging me to listen. “This will end badly. Please. Go with the navy or stay here. I’ll rejoin you after I find Brac.”
“Come to Samiya with me.” My selfish request is small of me. But I do not care.
Deven stares back, incredulous. The events of last night are too fresh in his mind. The back of my throat aches for his forgiveness. “Kali, I have to find Brac.”
“You said yourself he’ll be fine. He’s too clever to be captured. Come with us.”
“You know I cannot.”
I know Deven will risk his life to save his brother’s, and I cannot bear to lose him. I try one last entreaty. “I cannot imagine returning to Samiya without you.”
Deven’s eyes go wide, and understanding passes between us. Returning to the Alpanas together is our dream.
Ashwin drops the book on the table with a bang. “I’ll go to Samiya alone, then.”
“Wait.” I grasp at him, desperate for all of us to come to an accord. “Please, don’t go.”
“Yes, you stay,” Deven growls. “I was just leaving.”
I let go of Ashwin and reach for Deven. “I didn’t mean—” Deven prowls out and slams the door. I think to follow him, but the prince encloses my stiff frame in an embrace.
“Let him go. You won’t change his mind.”
I try not to melt under Ashwin’s touch, but his body heat soaks into me, and the sudden change is irresistible. “Maybe we should listen to him.”
“Kalinda, we’re acting in the empire’s best interest. Together with the rebels, we will stop Udug.”
For the first time, Ashwin sounds certain that we can succeed. I drive away my guilt at needing—and appreciating—his touch and remain near him.
We will go to Samiya without Deven, but his refusal to support us leaves a sourness in my mouth. He of all people should appreciate why we need the rebels’ help. With Udug closer to Vanhi than we believed, trusting the warlord is a risk we must take.