How can you trust me so much? I betrayed you.
Do what you did during our training sessions. Think of your complement. What would Cavas say if he were here?
“He’d say, ‘Stop overthinking,’” I say out loud, ignoring the puzzled glances from the women.
But Subodh beams and that strengthens my resolve.
I breathe deep—in, out—the way I always do during our practice sessions, imagining I’m back once more in Tavan’s quiet temple. As in a daydream, my eyes remain open while everything around me slows to half the normal speed.
Sky goddess, I call out, are you there?
I’m here, daughter. Do you see me?
I feel her presence rather than see it, a magic that draws me in like iron shavings to a magnet. The goddess, in this form, isn’t human, but a flame that glows bright blue, floating a few feet in the air above our heads.
I see you, I tell her.
Good. Tell the Pashu king and Kali to join you in creating a shield to protect the women. Once that is done, you must follow me, no matter what happens.
As she speaks the ominous words, a swirl of dust makes the blue flame flicker.
Don’t lose faith, daughter, the goddess urges. My flame only remains as strong as your faith in your magic. If you lose that now, you’ll lose everything.
I feel myself teetering the way I did as a child among the high branches of a tree, too afraid to jump to the ground.
“Raja Subodh, Kali,” I say in a voice that sounds hollow to my ears. “Throw up shields over the Legion. We need to move quickly.”
As they tie ropes around the women, I cast a shield spell, the orange glow from my daggers extending outward, somewhere to the middle of the snakelike line. I feel the reassuring brush of Kali’s magic as she casts her shield from the line’s center and then watch Subodh raise his mace in the air, covering the end with another spell.
“We should cover our faces, too,” Falak calls out. Shouts of agreement ensue, and we adjust our dupattas, veiling our noses and mouths with the cloth.
I secure Agni to the end of the line and fix the dupatta I’ve tied around her face, praying it doesn’t move.
Follow the tug of the rope, I whisper to the mare. And keep your eyes closed. I don’t want Dust getting into them.
She nickers softly, telling me she understands.
Once Agni is settled, I turn to the Legion. “Follow me! Hold on to one another as best as you can! And try to keep the Dust out of your eyes!”
The first few steps into the Dunes are no different from moving to another part of the desert, with the exception of the wind, which feels a lot stronger. A few more steps in, though, tears stream from my eyes, the wind howling so loudly I can’t hear myself speak.
It’s only the blue flame that remains constant, despite the eddying Dust, seeming to repel it no matter how strong the wind blows.
But then, I see my father walking toward me, his arms stretched out, his gray lips spread in a smile.
Papa?
The blue flame’s magic tugs on mine continually, drawing me away as I make a move to join him. Leave me, I am about to snarl when someone pinches my arm.
I turn, locking gazes with a pair of dark-brown eyes. Falak—who is now gesturing to one of the women behind us—Kali—trying to hack away at her rope with the tip of her spear.
“Let me go!” Kali’s voice reaches me in slow increments of sound. “It’s Juhi Didi! Amira!”
Dust dreams. The realization turns Papa’s image into swirling sand again.
Protect, I think instinctively, and the shield I’ve cast over the Legion automatically grows, moving over my hallucinating friend, then the two behind her, over and over, until I reach Subodh himself, feel the barest brush of his magic against my own.
Focus on the road ahead, Star Warrior, I hear him whisper. I’ll see you at the other end.
* * *
Time seems to slow and simultaneously speed the farther we move into the Dunes. I continue following the blue light, nauseated and terrified, wondering if I’m going to collapse then and there, when the sand begins tapering off, revealing hard earth. It’s here that I allow myself to sink to the ground, my cheek pressed to its hot, fissured surface. Words and conversation slip into my mind in fragments:
“… nose … bleeding.”
A hand opens my mouth, dripping bitter liquid over my tongue.
“… calming draft. Gul? Gul, can you hear me?”
When I finally do wake, the sun is exactly in the middle of the sky, its light piercing my eyes like needles.
“Where are we?” I mutter. And then, on a whim: “What day is it?”
“It’s been a week since you entered the Dunes,” a disembodied male voice says. Latif. “I thought you’d never come out.”
“How did a week pass us by?” I say, a second before a terrible exhaustion creeps up my body, sinking into every muscle, every bone. A horse neighs outside. “Wait, is that Agni? Is she—”
“Your mare is well. As for a week disappearing … well, time passes differently in the Dunes,” Latif says. “Usually, people die, lost in the shifting hills. You lot were lucky; most of you only fell unconscious. Your shield protected everyone from the worst of the damage, Star Warrior.”
“I’m not the only one who threw up a shield,” I tell him.
As I speak, I grow aware of another presence—and turn around to find Sami patiently waiting for our conversation to end. She hands me a small, uncorked jar. Yellow fumes smelling of sulfur rise from its narrow neck. When I bring it close, it makes my eyes water.
“What is this?” I say.
“A reviving draft. Come now, drink up.”
“I’m supposed to drink this?!”
“You’ve been drinking it hourly for the past day. It’s a good thing I packed some of Esther Didi’s medical supplies before we left Tavan. Otherwise, you and Kali would still be asleep.”
Despite the draft’s retch-inducing taste, I feel a lot sharper than I did before, my mind and body already more alert.
“Kali. Is she okay?” I ask.
“She is,” Sami says, looking relieved. “Your shield protected her—and us—from falling into a deep sleepstate.”
“Told you,” Latif sings out.
“Only your shield held up during the storm,” Sami explains. “Kali’s shield failed midway. So did Raja Subodh’s.” Sami blinks rapidly, her eyes wet with tears. Without thinking, I place a hand on her wrist.
“I’m fine, Sami.” Around us, women sip water, some still packing their equipment.
Sami takes a deep breath, her smile taut, forced. “I won’t cry, I promise. I’m too excitable for that. It’s a fault of mine. When Kali woke up, I overwhelmed her with questions about how she’s doing. I’m sure she hates me right now.”
“I’m sure she doesn’t hate you, Sami. She’s probably just tired.” I suppress a frown. Sami may be “excitable”—even exhausting in her enthusiasm—but I doubt that mere grouchiness from Kali would make her dissolve into tears. “Where is Kali now?”
“In Falak’s tent.” Sami gestures toward it. “Want me to take you there?”
“It’s better if I see her alone.”
To my relief, I find Kali sitting up in the tent, sipping tea.
“You’re up!” she exclaims when she sees me enter. “Sami didn’t say!”
“I only woke a few moments ago.” I pause. “So. You and Sami. What’s going on there? Before we entered the Dunes, I thought you both were getting along. Now she’s suddenly miserable again and ready to cry at the very mention of your name.”
“Why do you think I’m the reason for her misery?” Kali’s cool voice belies the tremor in her hands.
“Don’t act coy with me, Kali. If you don’t have feelings for the girl, cut her loose. But make a decision one way or another. Don’t play with her emotions.”
“Go,” Kali says, her face paler than I’ve seen it before. “Before I throw you out.”
<
br /> “Fine!”
I duck out of the tent, expecting a blast of heat. Instead, I feel the cool presence of a specter in the air.
“You might have poked an armored leopard there,” Latif comments.
“Good,” I say, not bothering to rebuke him for eavesdropping. “Someone needed to.”
“Raja Subodh will be happy to see you up and about. He’s talking to Harkha now.”
My heart skips a beat. “Cavas’s mother? She hasn’t faded yet?”
“She’s still around, Star Warrior. Your other half still lives. But then, you would know, too, wouldn’t you? If you reached out to him.”
“We’ve never—”
“—tried communicating at long distances, yes,” Latif cuts in. “But there’s always a first time, isn’t there? Try it at night, when everyone’s asleep. And do it with your eyes closed. It might make things easier.”
My heart skitters. I’m debating on how to respond to the specter when I hear someone call my name.
It’s Subodh.
“You’re up again,” he says, walking over to me. “The great animal spirits be praised. If you’re feeling better, we should start moving again. It isn’t safe to stay here too long.”
“I’m ready.”
Exhausted as I am, I am not imprisoned the way Cavas is.
At midday, we begin trekking farther north, away from the desert and closer to civilization. A village appears in the distance: small houses and thatched huts, the curving white roof of a temple, a faded blue flag snapping in the wind.
“Where are we?” someone mutters.
“We’re outside the village of Sur,” Kali says, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the afternoon sun. “I recognize those banyan trees.”
“The village won’t be safe,” Subodh says. “Rani Shayla is sure to have informers there. We must stick to the outskirts as much as possible and try not to be discovered.”
My mouth feels dry even after sipping from my waterskin. At the Sisterhood, Juhi always told us that the best way to hide was in plain sight. But I have doubts we’ll be able to pull this off with me, Kali, twenty other women, and a horse. Subodh will stick out as well. Pashu take pride in never being able to disguise their true nature or form, though in this instance, some shape-shifting might be useful.
“We’ll get caught before we take two steps,” Falak echoes my thoughts.
“Perhaps.” Subodh raises his spiked mace and props it against one shoulder. “Be prepared to fight.”
18
GUL
Falak leads the way, with Subodh in the rear, while we keep our weapons close, my hands constantly brushing my daggers’ hilts. We walk. And walk. No one crosses our path—not an animal, not even a bloodworm. The silence is absolute, every scrape of feet on the ground booming in my ears.
“I don’t like this,” Kali whispers to me.
“Neither do I,” I say.
It’s nearly sunset, the sky a dusky rose, when a woman in front of us screams. “Raja Subodh!”
I rush forward, my daggers growing hot in my hands, and pause next to the woman, whose finger points out something farther ahead.
It’s a horse’s carcass, the body ripped open, apparently by wild animals. Flies buzz around the corpse, the stench of it nearly making me hurl. I take a step backward. To my surprise, Subodh walks over to the horse and sniffs around its ears.
He gestures me and Kali over. “Look.” He points to the dried blood next to the corpse. “What do you see?”
Kali and I hold our dupattas over our noses. Though every instinct urges me away, I force myself to look … and see patches of green tainting the blood, a faint glow rising from them. Magic.
“Dustwolves couldn’t have left that there,” Kali murmurs. “Is it a trap?”
“More like a diversion,” I say. “Someone doesn’t want us going farther.”
“Not us, necessarily.” Subodh’s large paw delicately nudges a scrap of cloth still hanging to the horse’s saddle. “Blue and silver. These are Sky Warrior colors.”
“Do you think it’s Am—” A whinny breaks off my sentence: Agni, galloping past the dead horse, her body vanishing into thin air.
“Agni!” I shout. “Agni, no!”
But, where Agni went, I can’t go, a bout of dizziness striking the moment I try to follow.
“An enchantment,” I mutter. “I can’t move any farther.”
Subodh walks past the horse and sniffs carefully. “Yes, I can sense it,” he says. “It’s an enchantment that will repel both humans and part-humans. It won’t let me through, either. If Agni does not return in the next few moments, then we will have no choice but to turn back and find a safer place to camp for the night.”
“I’m not losing Agni to some enchantment!”
“Perhaps you won’t,” Subodh says, his yellow eyes focused somewhere beyond the spot Agni disappeared into. “Enchantments don’t work the same way on animals the way they do on humans and Pashu. It’s the reason Agni alone was able to move forward. Let’s wait for now and stay alert.”
I take a deep breath and focus on Agni’s form, picturing her in my mind. Agni, are you there? I whisper.
A long silence. I’m about to call for her again when Agni speaks: I’m coming. Stay where you are.
“She’s coming back,” I say out loud, squinting at the hazy blur behind the dead horse, my eyes watering from the effort. It’s why, when Agni steps back through the airy barrier, it takes me a moment to see the figure walking beside her. A skinny man of medium height, a cudgel in one hand, wild black hair curling around his head and chin. It’s the first time I’m seeing him without a turban, but those eyes are unmistakable—as brilliant as yellow firestones in a dark mine. Though we crossed the desert solely to find him, meeting Ambar’s true king is a shock, as if I’m still inside the Dunes.
“Pashuraj Subodh.” King Amar bows deeply. “You came.”
“Raja Amar.” Subodh’s bow is equally deep. “I am glad to see you are not only alive but also well. I’m surprised you took the risk of crossing the enchantment and coming out here yourself.”
“Your Jwaliyan mare was pretty convincing. So was the living specter who accompanied her. He described a rajsingha, about ten feet tall, and a girl with black hair, gold eyes, and a starry birthmark on her right arm.”
Amar locks eyes with me. To my annoyance, my heart skips a beat.
Agni moves forward to nuzzle Amar’s cheek with her nose, making him laugh and stroke her in response.
I raise my eyebrows. What in Svapnalok are you doing? I ask her through our bond.
Getting on the raja’s good side. You should, too.
Don’t tell me that you could see him across that enchantment! And what’s this talk about a living specter?
I couldn’t see him. Latif told me he was there, she says cheekily.
Of course, Latif was there. I grimace. Why couldn’t either of you tell me that?
Agni snorts. Cheer up. I didn’t die, did I?
“The mare—Agni—is Gul’s companion,” Subodh tells Amar now.
“I see that,” Amar says. “Even at Ambar Fort, she controlled my sister Malti’s rambunctious pony with little effort. It’s good to see you again, Gul ji.”
“It’s good to see you, too, Raja Amar,” I say truthfully. The passing reference to Princess Malti makes my heart seize. With Shayla on Ambar’s throne, I don’t know when I’ll see the little girl again. If I ever will.
Amar smiles at me. “More like a raja without a crown or a kingdom.”
I feel another presence by my side. “Did you ask him to stop using the honorific on you?” I can hear the smirk in Sami’s tone.
“Ambari royals are ingrained with superfluous formality,” I mutter, avoiding the question. Or at least this royal.
I don’t like to think of the one and only time Amar called me by name—only my name—in the gardens at Ambar Fort. He knew me as Siya, then, not Gul, but I’d never forgotten the momen
t or the longing and hope in his eyes. It would have been easy for me to love Amar—and equally easy for me to kill him later at Raj Mahal, if not for Cavas.
“The dead horse isn’t real, I take it,” Subodh says.
“It isn’t.” Amar waves a hand over the corpse, which disappears briefly to reveal the skeleton of a bird long dead, draped with a bloodied horse blanket—and then reappears again. “I conjured the skeleton into a horse to drive away Sky Warriors. It took some time, but I don’t think I got the dustwolf’s tooth marks right.”
“You didn’t,” Subodh says. “The bites weren’t as clean.”
“Rani Ma said you’d notice,” Amar says, eyeing the Pashu king. “She sent me a message a couple of days ago that you were headed this way. She also said I should trust you.”
The last sentence hovers in the air, the hesitation in it unmistakable.
“We have a truth seeker among us,” Subodh says, gesturing to Kali. “You may ask her if we are trustworthy.”
“Yes, we’ve met.” Amar’s eyes flicker to where Kali stands. “Well, my mother trusts you and that certainly counts for something. She isn’t easy to convince.”
If Subodh is moved by that statement, he gives no indication of it, his face as impassive as always.
“How did you end up here, this close to the desert?” I ask Amar to change the subject. “Was it a coincidence?”
“It wasn’t,” Amar says. “I began tracking your movements, Gul ji, as soon as I was crowned king. It was easy enough, with Cavas’s having enlisted in the army. His signature allowed me to track you into the desert. But I didn’t anticipate leaving Ambar Fort or being on the run myself.”
He pauses briefly before continuing. “One night, while I was visiting my mother and Malti in Rani Mahal, General Shayla and five Sky Warriors ambushed me. I was a fool. The palace vaid told me there were suspicions that Shayla had poisoned my father, but I still went to her when she said she needed me for something urgent. Moments after I left my mother’s chambers, I had to duck an atashban’s spell. I managed to evade them and run to the servants’ quarters downstairs. In the corridor, there’s a ramp that leads to a window with a drop of two hundred feet onto the grounds surrounding the palace.”
Rising Like a Storm Page 14
