Dedication
TO THOSE WHO DREAM OF BETTER WORLDS
Map
Epigraph
For their love was not a light, but a dusk. Not darkness, but twilight.
—FROM THE TALES OF NARAN AND NARIA
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Map
Epigraph
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Acknowledgments
Glossary
About the Author
Books by Swati Teerdhala
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Copyright
About the Publisher
Chapter 1
Esha was in charge of this great, big, quiet palace. She turned the corner out of the throne room, the light tinkling of her anklet bells echoing across marble tiles.
The palace had become a makeshift home for those alive after the coup at the Winner’s Ball. The Blades had taken over the western wing with the Scales, an uneasy peace settling between them. The Senaps who still resisted, well, the palace had become a prison for them.
And she was here.
Tasked with making sure everything didn’t crumble down around them.
King Mahir had left to protect Dharka, Harun was captured, Vardaan had disappeared in the jungle beyond, and Kunal had betrayed them and fled with Reha.
It was a wonder that anything had gone right since then. The one bright spot was that the citizens outside believed the story they had woven and spread through the streets. The city was placated, at least for now.
She reached the open balustrade of the main hall and looked out into the fading red of the sunrise.
The drought had finally reached Gwali. Fishermen who would’ve risen at dawn and gone to the river now blocked the streets that went west to the ocean. Fights had broken out between deep ocean trappers and river fishermen. Only yesterday she had arbitrated a disagreement, feeding them false promises that things would be better soon. As for the merchants and food sellers, they were no better off. Many had reduced their wares and the shipments they had started from Jansa were slow and far between.
People were suffering.
A rustle at the door caught Esha’s attention. A short man with a long mustache stood in the entrance looking curiously at her, and then beyond her.
Alok had appeared in the side entrance, talking in hushed tones with a younger Blade as he walked. His curls had grown out, framing his face in waves that would’ve made many a noble lady jealous. Esha patted her own mess of curls, trying to remember the last time she had brushed her hair. The man by the entrance perked up and waved a hand at Alok, who looked perplexed but smiled in return.
It was amusing to watch, but she had no patience for the man’s incompetence in identifying the person he had come to meet. She had little patience these past few weeks since they had taken over the palace from Vardaan.
Esha swept around the staircase and walked into full view. If the man knew what was good for him he’d notice her now. He had been summoned to the palace to meet with Princess Reha, after all. The man threw her the breadcrumbs of a glance before he turned back to Alok—the only potential for power in the room, apparently.
Perhaps he believed the princess too busy to deign to be involved in these matters. The note the man received had been signed by a Lord Mayank, which might be cause for his confusion. But that was probably too generous to assume. The short man walked over to Alok, who wrapped things up with the Blade and dismissed her with a nod of his head.
The man bowed low.
“I received your note, your excellency.”
“My note?”
“A bit late, but I rushed over here. I have heard news. And I came to the palace straightaway when I heard of it. I received the summons just as I was leaving my house.” His words had an oily taste. The man straightened and faced Alok with a slippery smile. “But it was hard to come by, terribly difficult. And I have people to take care of in my guild, especially with the drought fast approaching.”
Esha suppressed a laugh. He didn’t even bother to play the game. Another setting and she may have even admired the man’s gall.
“Are you . . . asking to be compensated?” Alok said. “For information that could save the city?”
“Oh no, my lord. I would never ask for that. But a little help would be welcome,” the man said.
This was where Esha should step in, but she felt compelled to stay back, keep watching.
The citizens of Gwali had believed their story, that the Yavar had attempted to invade the palace, that Princess Reha had defended them by alerting the Senaps to the attempted insurgence. That Vardaan abdicated in her favor out of gratitude. Most of the citizens were loyal, but there would always be a few who would be eager to take advantage of the turmoil that always followed a change in power. A strong story made that more difficult.
Alok gave him an absentminded nod and Guildsman Gugil’s grin was unmistakable. The guildsman had yet to understand that Alok gave that nod to just about everything, mostly to stall a decision. To Esha, it was a fatal flaw. A good businessperson must always know where the power lay in a room, and if he didn’t, it was his duty to figure it out.
Pity for his guild. Esha knew now with certainty why they were in such dire straits.
“I’ll have to ask our leader, of course,” Alok said, drawing out the words and casting a look about.
Esha emerged from the shadows like a wraith. The man jumped back. But then he peered closer and, seeing a woman, seemed to decide she was no threat. His mask of deference dropped and there was an upturned slant to his mouth, a gleam in his eye. He turned his back on Esha.
Bad move. Her hand went to the whips she now wore on her waist sash.
“Of course, your excellency. But aren’t you the leader now, Lord Mayank? I got a note from you.”
“Oh no,” Alok said, laughing. “I’m not the leader of anything, unless it’s how to get the chef to make more of those fluffy rice cakes. Our leader’s behind you.”
Esha enjoyed this part, where they turned and looked at her with new eyes. When they realized that she had the power, they transformed. Most men were smart enough to change tactics, accept the new norm. A few were still unwilling to see her, a woman, as the one to make a deal with. Their idea of a princess, of a woman, wasn’t that of a leader.
Perhaps they had bought into the rhetoric Vardaan had spread; perhaps they had always held such beliefs in their hearts. Hard to tell and Esha did not care. Those men were difficult, but Esha had found a way to deal with them.
Esha clutched the ruby-encrusted hilt of the sword she now wore, the darkened eagle sigil apparent from the way she wore it. Vardaan’s old sword.
Anyone worth their salt recognize
d it and bowed.
The man was not worth anything, as evidenced by his reaction. His eyes narrowed and his mouth turned cruel.
“Is this a joke? Or a test?” The man whirled back around to face Alok.
“Why would we do that, good man?” Alok asked, his confusion genuine. He was still learning this world of shadows and deals. Every emotion of his played across his face.
“Why indeed? I’ve been the picture of grace. I came here and I offered—”
“You got a summons from the palace to offer the information we need, the dire information your own country needs, on a condition. You asked for an exchange, a payment, a bribe, of sorts,” Esha said. “Not really the picture of grace, Soham Gugil.”
“I am Guildsman Gugil,” he said, puffing his chest up. “I was asked to come as a representative.”
“You were asked to come because I heard you have information that is vital to the security of Jansa. Now if you do, I’ll consider not throwing you into the dungeons. If you don’t, well, you’re testing my last bit of patience.”
Alok cringed. Esha liked Alok, truly liked him and enjoyed his company, but he was more like Kunal, more like that soldier, than not. There was no room for softness in this game.
“But I heard the princess was no more than a useless fop—”
Alok groaned. “Oh no.”
Esha raised a hand and casually snapped two fingers. Two Blades dressed in the armor of the Senaps, painted Crescent silver now, ran up to her side. “We have another resident for the dungeons.”
The two Blades each grabbed an arm of Guildsman Gugil, whose eyes threatened to bug out of his face. He finally realized his mistake, but Esha was already finished with their conversation.
“I have it, the information!” he said.
“Good. I’ll come visit you later and you can tell me all about it,” Esha said sweetly, walking up to the guildsman. She ran a finger down the side of his face. He’d already started sweating. Why were the ones who blustered the most always the first to break? “Until then, you can spend some quality time alone with your thoughts.”
“But my guild—”
Esha grabbed the man’s chin and locked eyes with him. The disbelief that had turned into anger was now shifting into worry and confusion. He didn’t know where to put her.
She liked it that way.
“Your guild will be taken care of. I do not punish people for the stupidity of their leaders. I’ll send some Blades to your guild this afternoon to assess what they need,” she said. “If it’s dire enough that you’d trade this information for help, then you should’ve come to us days ago.”
She let go of his face and wiped her hands on her waist sash, taking care not to mess up the delicate fabric of her peacock-blue silk sari. The Blades hefted him away, and the guildsman at least had the presence of mind not to scream the entire way, unlike some of the others. He did shout a bit, though.
Esha turned toward Alok, who was shaking his head at her.
“Another one? You can’t keep them all in the dungeons.”
She sighed and lifted her eyes to the ceiling. “Not this again, Alok. You know it’s just to scare them. They won’t accept me as a leader if I’m kind. As a woman, I have to be more ruthless, inspire more fear, engender more respect. I’m setting up a country for Reha. When she returns, she has a country to rule and a city that believes in her power. It’s enough that there are wild stories going around the city.”
“Yes, I know, but—”
“What is the ‘but,’ then? Did the general not do worse, to his own soldiers?” she said, exasperated. She was tiring of having this conversation. Would Alok be protesting if she wasn’t a woman?
“I understand what you’re doing, even why. But it’s a dangerous precedent to set,” he said quietly.
“And I’m aware of that. I only keep them in the dungeons for a day,” she said. “But might is still right to these men, and until I show my might, I cannot accomplish what we want to. I won’t be able to find Vardaan, rescue Harun, save us from this drought.”
She heard the way her voice caught and Alok gave her a soft look. He had heard it too.
“And Kunal?” he ventured.
Instantly, a vise squeezed her heart, stopping her breath for one aching moment. She hated hearing his name. Hated what it did to her.
“The soldier is none of my concern.”
“But Reha?”
“Bhandu is on their trail. He’s still sending regular reports. We have a few days until the solstice,” she said.
Alok’s shoulders sagged. “One piece of good news. If Kunal is able to renew the bond with Reha, it will be one less thing to worry about.”
“If the soldier is able to do that, we will still have a fracturing country, a loose tyrant of a king who will come back for his throne, and”—Esha swallowed roughly—“and we will still have to find my friend Harun. My prince. Before the Yavar realize we have renewed the bond or are close to it. Who knows what they’ll do to him if that’s the case.”
Alok’s face turned ashen, and he nodded. “I know. I’m just trying to look on the bright side.”
Esha smiled. “It’s why I keep you around. How’s Farhan’s research going?”
Alok returned the smile, but it was for a different reason. One that had more to do with the boy than the research. “It’s going well, I think. It’s hard to tell. Sometimes he’s close to tearing out his hair and others he seems absolutely absorbed in the work. But I’m sure we’ll find what we’re looking for.”
“Good.”
“About Harun,” he said slowly, carefully. “I might have a lead.”
“Two leads in one day?” she said.
“If it’s any good.” Alok’s voice was cautious, but Esha had already begun to move, signaling at some of the Blades nearby to join them.
“Any lead is a good lead, Alok.”
He looked hesitant. “And what about any leads about Kunal?”
The smile left her face. “Send those to Bhandu and Aahal. I want no part of that unless it’s directly related to Reha.”
“Esha . . .” Alok tried to reach out a hand to her but thought better of it and saluted instead. “I’ll be back in a few hours, hopefully with some answers.”
“My favorite words,” Esha said drily.
Alok and two Blades walked out of the room, leaving Esha in the towering, cavernous hall. She sagged against the staircase as soon as they turned the corner, their footsteps echoing behind them.
If only Harun was here. But he was gone. Stolen. And she was alone, trying to figure out how to lead the Blades, and the country, by herself.
She let it all drop from her shoulders for a moment, all the burden of power and leadership, and her entire body quaked. She slid onto one of the stairs and leaned her head against the cold marble railing.
One step at a time.
Esha would solve this, one step at a time.
Chapter 2
The harsh wind of the mountains buffeted Kunal as he pushed forward. The rock underneath him was scraggly with no place for a proper foothold, let alone any room to stand and rest. Earlier on in their trip they had been able to change between flying and walking but not anymore. Not since Reha had started shifting uncontrollably.
In the beginning, it was the slightest thing. Claws sprouting from her fingertips when they had stopped to get more rations from a market, her wings shortening as they flew over the low hills of the northern region of Jansa.
But then she had stopped shifting and started doing something else entirely. Kunal glanced over at her shivering form as she carefully picked her way over the rocks. Her feet were now made of hooves, like a mountain goat’s, her body adapting to the latest environment.
It had been like this since they had hit the Aifora Mountains. At first she had shifted into a feline without her knowledge. Kunal had assumed she’d shift into a jungle lion, as was customary to her Himyad blood, but instead, she had become a snow leopard. It
was as if the first change in the climate had triggered something in her that cast aside both her Himyad and Samyad blood.
Since then, she hadn’t stopped shifting, no matter what exercises or breath training that Kunal did with her. Reha was handling it better than he might’ve, but he wasn’t oblivious to the distress that lurked in her gaze. They had both realized Kunal’s knowledge had reached its natural limit. He was unable to help her.
Kunal grunted under the thick wool uttariya that was wrapped around his face, nudging Reha and pointing toward a flat area of the mountain pass. Reha followed behind him, and they pulled into the small crevice tucked into the side of the rock. If nothing else, it gave them a short respite from the steadily falling snow, which blanketed the slate gray landscape in a light, ethereal white. Kunal reached a hand out and let a snowflake melt on his fingertip, marveling at the intricate beauty of it, the whorls of ice and spirals of silver embedded in each.
Snow at this time of year. Kunal had heard of it, but to see it in person . . . He felt a smile curl at the edges of his face. He imagined Esha’s look when he told her that he actually—
The smile faded as reality hit him. He swallowed hard and turned to Reha.
“We’re only a half day away by my estimate.” His voice was muffled, but Reha nodded.
“We’ve made good time,” she said.
“Your new modifications have helped. Helped us find food back on the mountain pass.”
“Oh yes, I’m so enjoying being in a new animal body with new desires every day. Really invigorating,” she said.
Kunal couldn’t help but chuckle. He was learning that Reha, despite everything that had happened to her these past few weeks, had a good sense of humor about her. He wasn’t sure that if he was in her position—discovered that she was a royal and her family was alive, that she could never return to the Scales, that she was the only key to saving the land, and now, that she could barely hold on to her human form—he would be quite so levelheaded about it all.
“The breathing techniques you showed me are helping,” she offered.
“I’m glad to hear that.” Kunal tugged out their dwindling ration supply and handed her a dried fig. She started nibbling on it, her mind elsewhere.
The Chariot at Dusk Page 1
