22
I fend off Tarek’s wandering hands and sloppy kisses during the return procession to the Turquoise Palace. He is all hands when he is drunk, but his reaction time is slower. I abandon him at the howdah and run off through the crowded courtyard into the palace ahead of my guards.
The corridors fly by in a haze. I burst into my room, ready to scream or sob—or both. Deven turns from my balcony, where he was watching the procession arrive, his eyes brimming with compassion. Finding him waiting for me unlocks the fear I have held in all day. Warm tears trickle down my cheeks. He opens his arms, and I fill them, crying against his shoulder.
“I watched those women die, and I did nothing.”
He rubs my back, his caresses as soft as his voice. “They chose to fight.”
My tears flow faster. His being right does not change the mark their deaths have made on my heart. The palace walls thin around me, and I can feel the Beyond. I am aware of my tender mortality, how close I am to the divide between life and death. Deven holds me until my sorrow runs dry.
I wipe my damp cheeks. “I thought you had changed posts.”
“I thought you wanted me to.”
“No,” I whisper. “I don’t want you to leave.” I told Mathura that I would remind Deven that I am the viraji, but he knows who I am, and he is still here. I lay my cheek against his solid chest and savor him, his sandalwood scent a precious comfort.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there today,” he says. His gentleness unlooses more of my tears. “Jaya’s sorry too. I spoke to her while you were gone. She’s lodging here in the palace.”
I look up at him, my heart lightening. “You saw Jaya?”
“I stayed behind to search for her.”
I throw my arms around his neck and hold him closer. “Thank you.”
Deven eases us back toward the wall, out of the open. “It isn’t safe, Kali.”
“It will never be safe.” After a day of biting my tongue, I revel in the lack of constraint, and my words tumble out. “I cannot forget our kiss.”
Deven draws me behind the silk draperies, secreting us in a cozy cocoon. My hands remain fastened to his shoulders. “I cannot forget either, but I don’t want it to be like this, with you smelling of him. I don’t want to watch over my shoulder, terrified that every moment I’m with you will be my last. I want you to myself, Kali.”
My fingers seek the soft hairs below the neck of his turban. “I want that too.”
He tilts forward, resting his forehead against mine. I realize that any second he will come to his senses. His morals as a soldier will force him to stop, and he will warn me that we can never touch again. But Deven inhales through his nose, breathing me in, and presses his lips to mine.
His lips touch mine urgently, without a care for regulations or threats. He runs his hands through my hair and pours his unspoken words into me. I should stop this. I should be the reasonable-minded one. But there is no reason when it comes to my feelings for Deven.
I kiss him back and remove his turban, dropping it, and my fingers weave into his silky hair. His hands travel to my waist, and his kisses deepen. His gripping fingers loosen as they begin gentle strokes. Slowly, so slowly, his lips part from mine.
Deven releases an explosive breath. “Jaya’s waiting for you in the herb garden. Yatin will show you the way.”
I do not know how long we have been hiding behind the curtain, but I want to stay inside this silk chrysalis forever.
“Why don’t you come with me?” I trace his jaw up to the curve of his bottom lip.
He kisses my fingertips and pulls my hand away. His other hand smooths down my hair. His own hair is ruffled and free, a soft tumble of waves around his flushed face. “The rajah saw me approach you at skill demonstrations. We don’t want to give him another reason to look our way.” Deven kisses me again and smiles to lift my worries. “I’ll be all right. Go meet your friend.”
“Kali!” Jaya flings her arms around me and locks me in a hug that reminds me of the musty, dark temple corridors and ever-burning incense of home. “I’m sorry about my message. Those were Gautam’s words.”
“I knew it wasn’t you.” I lean back to look at her, and my heart topples over. She is very thin, even thinner than I am. Thanks to Healer Baka’s expert stitching, her cheek healed with minimal scarring, but a bruise darkens her chin. Rage for the general rises so fast and hot that withholding it burns.
“We don’t have long,” says Jaya. We sit on the rim of the raised garden bed. Yatin waits out of sight at the end of the path. “Gautam thinks I’m in my chamber.”
My gaze explores her face for all I have missed since we last parted. “How have you been?”
“Leaving Samiya was difficult. Gautam isn’t a gentle man, but I’m learning how not to cross him.” She rubs at her bruised chin and sends me a falsely optimistic smile. “What is life like in the palace?”
“Nerve-racking.” I feel wretched for complaining when she has suffered so much worse. “I couldn’t have survived without Deven, my guard. And I have so much to tell you about Tarek”—her eyes widen at my informality—“and his ranis and courtesans.”
“I want to hear all about them, especially about your guard, but first I have something to tell you.” Her eyes are grave with seriousness. “The night we arrived in Vanhi, the general met with the rajah. I listened at the door while they spoke for an hour about a book they don’t want the bhutas to find.”
“The Zhaleh.”
“That’s what they called it.” She frowns at my paling complexion. “The Zhaleh is the reason for the war, isn’t it?”
“Yes. The bhutas want it back. Do you know where it is?”
“No, but Gautam and the rajah said it is here somewhere.”
The Zhaleh truly is hidden in the palace. Perhaps that is what the bhutas want from me—to locate their book. “Maybe I can follow the general and find it,” I say.
“You cannot. Gautam met with the kindred. I overheard them say your name, and then they moved out of earshot. They’re watching you.”
No good can come from Lakia and Gautam meeting together. I have to get Jaya away from them, away from here.
A bird stirs the bushes. Jaya peers down the garden path. “I should go.”
I seize her hands. Sending her back to Gautam feels like a dagger twisting in my side, but she has given me the answer I needed to force my next step. “Everything will be all right,” I promise.
“How?” Her eyes swim with doubt.
“The bhutas want to bargain with me. In exchange, they will sneak you out of Vanhi.”
Jaya shakes her head. “You’re always trying to protect me, Kali. This time, let me help you. I’ve learned a lot by listening at doors. Let me help you find the Zhaleh.”
“It’s too dangerous,” I reply just as adamantly. “You mustn’t get involved.”
“I already am.”
The truth of that slaps me hard, the blame of it entirely in my hands. “I’m sorry. If you hadn’t waited for me—”
“This is what we wanted. We’re together again.” She smiles and wraps me in her bony arms. I search my soul for gladness, but I will fear for her safety so long as she is with Gautam.
Jaya leans back and tucks a tiny ointment bottle into my hand. “I made this oil from one of my plants. Dab a little on your skin, and anyone who touches you will become ill.”
One of her plants. This is poison. “Will I get sick too?”
“Your head will ache for a day or so.” Her mouth twists up. “But so will his.”
I squeeze her hand. She must have used this ointment on Gautam. If he were to find out she poisoned him, he would do worse than bruise her jaw. “Be careful, Jaya.”
“You too. I was so worried about you.” She squeezes my hand harder. “Then I saw you at skill demonstrations. I could not believe . . . You are suited for this place, Kali. You are suited for the life of a rani.”
She would not speak so if she knew how difficult it has been. I have more to tell her, but Jaya kisses my cheek and runs off, leaving me alone with a chill entombing my heart.