23
DEVEN
In the middle of the night, as I am falling asleep, two large men grab me from my cell and lead me to the guardhouse.
Vizier Gyan is seated within at a writing table that faces the door. He jots something down in a book and waves at an empty chair without looking up. I enter and sit across from him. The walls are barren, though hung over the desk is an ornamental imperial khanda with a beryl-jeweled hilt. The writing table is organized to perfection, not an ink quill out of place. In case the vizier is observing me, I steal glances at the stocked armory in the corner, a lock dangling from the closed door. Khandas. Crossbows. Machetes. Enough weapons for a small army.
The vizier shuffles his parchments aside, squaring the corners into precise angles. My interest turns to a book before him. Runes I cannot read mark the cover. More experienced brethren of the Parijana faith can understand runes, but I did not study with the Brotherhood long enough to interpret them myself.
“Captain Naik,” he says, lifting his chin. “Now that you’ve had time to contemplate your place here, I have some questions for you. How close are you to Kindred Kalinda?”
I hesitate. Why ask me about Kali? “I am—was—her guard, sir.”
“She broke into your cell on your first night here because you were her guard?”
“I cannot speak to her reasoning.”
Vizier Gyan clasps his hands in front of him, his sleeves inching up slightly. He wears his usual long-sleeved tunic jacket with untailored cuffs. Odd. He is fastidious about the orderliness of his writing desk, yet his sleeves hang too long. “Prior to my telling you, did you know she’s a Burner?”
“I . . . I’m not sure I understand. Do these questions pertain to the trial tournament?”
“I’m conducting the questioning, Captain.” The vizier reclines in his chair, casual in his control. “Did you know Kindred Kalinda is a Burner?”
His surliness when he says “Burner” makes me wish Brac were here to singe his nose hairs. “Yes.”
“Did she conspire with the bhuta warlord Hastin to murder Rajah Tarek and infiltrate the Turquoise Palace?”
“No.”
“Then why did she run from Vanhi?”
“As you said, Hastin and his rebels invaded the palace. She feared for her life and ran.”
“After she killed Rajah Tarek,” he says. My eyes expand in shock. “You needn’t protect her. I know she covered her body in poisoned lotion and seduced Tarek to his death.”
My gut turns to serrated ice. Who did he hear this from? I never questioned Kali about her wedding night or let the details enter my mind. I cringe at the image of her with Rajah Tarek in that way. “I cannot speak to rumors, sir.”
“Sultan Kuval’s first-ever wife, my sister, was killed by a Burner. My brother-in-law believes Kalinda is inherently evil. Like fire, she’s driven to destroy. Yesterday, during her first trial, she burned down our docks. Two innocent fishermen lost their lives.”
I steal a moment to absorb this. Kali would never intentionally hurt anyone, but her actions tend to inadvertently cause trouble.
Vizier Gyan rests his forearms on the table. “Have you had any contact with the kindred since the night she came here?”
“No.”
“One of the Lestarians came to my gate this evening and offered his healing services to your man, Yatin. Your little outburst about ‘the bear’ reached someone.”
Praise Anu, Kali or Natesa heard my message and arranged help for Yatin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Vizier Gyan exhales an irritated breath at my buttoned smirk. “Captain, why did Prince Ashwin absolve you of treason?”
“I don’t know.” I wrestle the urge to shift in my chair. The vizier is trying to rile me. I have employed the same tactics while interrogating soldiers, poking at them until I find the one weakness that becomes their downfall.
Vizier Gyan purses his lips thoughtfully. “Are you aware of how close Prince Ashwin has become with Kindred Kalinda?” I force impassivity into my expression. “They spend a lot of time alone together. Yesterday morning she was seen leaving his bedchamber in her nightclothes.”
“Is that a question?” I ask coolly.
“Kalinda is endeavoring to wed the prince.”
“She’s his for the taking. He has first rights to her.”
Vizier Gyan’s smile twists. “Does that anger you, Captain?”
I lock my jaw. Any response I give will be warped and used against me.
“You met the kindred at the Samiya Temple where Rajah Tarek claimed her and escorted her from the temple to Vanhi. There, you were instated as her palace guard, and, later, you were accused of spending the night with her. You were sentenced to execution, but she freed you from the dungeon and helped you escape. You returned for her the very same evening Rajah Tarek was killed.”
An itch starts at the back of my mind. Where did he hear this from? “Your informant has it wrong. If I was of value, would I be here while the kindred is out there, as you said, endeavoring to wed the prince?”
“I don’t care so much who weds the prince. I’m more interested in an item the kindred stole from Vanhi.”
He’s after the Zhaleh. I should have guessed from his circling questions that he has no interest in Kali but in what she is protecting.
“You were caught with the Zhaleh and sentenced for treason,” he presses. “Where is it?”
“I don’t know. Rajah Tarek had the book for years. It must still be hidden in Vanhi.”
Vizier Gyan’s stare turns frigid. “The kindred gave me the same answer, nearly word for word.”
“Then it must be true,” I retort. “Hastin could have it.”
“Captain, we both know the warlord doesn’t have the Zhaleh.”
I narrow my eyes at Vizier Gyan. Has he been speaking with Hastin? Is the warlord the one who fed him information about Kali and me?
“Tell me where the Zhaleh is, and I’ll release you to the kindred,” he says.
I would like to comply with him more than I will allow myself to consider. “I don’t know where it is. That’s the truth.”
Vizier Gyan inclines forward in his chair. “Day after tomorrow, the final two competitors will duel in the arena, and my offer will expire. I need a better answer by then.”
“My answer will be the same, sir.”
“All right.” He musters a cryptic grin. “You may return to your housing.”
The guards lead me to my tent; the other men are already asleep. I lie down beside Yatin’s empty bedroll and listen to the buzzing mosquitoes. I need to warn Kali about the vizier’s interest in the Zhaleh, but I cannot chance sending another bizarre message Gyan can easily decode. The prince’s suspicions about the sultan were correct. Regardless of the tournament’s outcome, I doubt Sultan Kuval will allow Kalinda, a Burner, to retain her throne and free us.
The only way my men and I will escape this prison is by fighting our way out.