Esha waved Mayank and Laksh to her side. “We might have a lead on where they’ve taken Harun. The others think it’s shaky”—two nodded heads and one glare from Alok—“but we don’t have much else to go on.”
Mayank sifted through the reports. “I heard what the guildsman said. From Aahal.”
Aahal had the decency to blush a little under Esha’s sudden gaze. “I have some House Pramukh soldiers in the area, and I can send them ahead to scout,” Mayank said.
“And if we’re right, and Harun is being held there? Won’t scouts tip them off?” Esha asked.
“Are you indicating my soldiers aren’t up to the task?”
“I’m saying that we still don’t know what the Yavar want. If we make a move, we’re inviting war. Right now, the country is unaware and unscathed. We need the utmost secrecy in rescuing Harun before anyone finds out, which means we use your men only if you know you have their trust to keep this a secret. If not, we can’t send them, even if that means I ride on horseback to every town in the western hills by myself.”
There was a strangled noise from her right, but Esha didn’t look at her team. They had to understand how important this was to her. She’d go to the ends of the earth to get Harun back. It would be only half of what he’d done for her.
And the way she had left their relationship before he had been taken. . . .
Esha shut that door viciously before the stab of pain reached her heart. She missed Harun fiercely, and she needed him back here, by her side.
Mayank sighed. “They’re loyal men, but after that speech, I’m not so sure it’s enough. How can you judge loyalty of that kind?”
“Look around here.” Her voice was quiet. “At these people.”
“Then no,” Mayank said, his voice resigned.
“We scout ourselves,” Esha said.
Aahal looked a bit too excited, straightening in his chair and almost knocking Arpiya over. Farhan frowned, but Alok nodded at her, whispering into his ear.
“It’s too dangerous,” Zhyani said, shaking her head. She didn’t wear a sari, and instead was clad in a dhoti and a short silk tunic. The one thing Esha had learned about the woman was that she was adaptable—and had a few too many opinions. Especially on how Esha should run the palace.
“It was always going to be dangerous,” Esha said back.
“Are you sure about this?” Laksh asked her as she turned to him. He wore leather armor, which meant he must have been down in the training courtyard earlier today. Esha had put him in charge of rounding up potential soldiers who could be of use—or might be willing to turn to their side. He had put together a small group of soldiers and had taken to running drills with them in the morning. Once a soldier, always a soldier, she supposed.
“No. But I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”
Despite her best effort to suppress it, the note of desperation that had hidden in her heart since that day, weeks ago, rang out. Mayank walked over and took her hands in his own. Though she made a face, Esha didn’t pull away. She was glad for the comfort. It was different offered from him, someone who she didn’t have to look after and wasn’t responsible for. Alok made a sputtering noise to her side.
“You’re not alone in doing this,” he said.
“I know. But it’s not on them like it is on me,” she said, her voice quieting so the team couldn’t hear.
“Because you’re their leader?”
“Because they’re not at fault.”
“And you think you are?” Mayank asked, his mouth curving into a frown. “Esha, you can’t believe that.”
“You’d be surprised what one can believe, especially when it is the truth.” Esha pulled away, and Mayank let her go, shaking his head.
“If you’re at fault, then I am as well. So is everyone. How could we have seen this coming?”
“I don’t know, but somehow, somewhere, I failed.”
Esha thought back to her first meeting with Yamini, how the Yavar princess had charmed her, how she had picked out a sari for her to wear. The hundreds of little instances where Esha could’ve picked up on her true intentions.
But maybe it had started back even further. Back in a forest with a soldier who had eyes that called to her, armor that was destined to break her heart and tear her family apart.
Esha gritted her teeth. She was the Viper. Whatever heart she had left was captured somewhere with her friend, her prince.
“That face is telling me that I won’t be convincing you otherwise,” Lord Mayank said. “But let it be known, I think you’re wrong. And if you try to go running off into trouble because of some misplaced guilt, I will tell on you to Arpiya.”
Esha burst into laughter. The others snapped around, stopping their bickering to stare at her. Aahal’s eyes brightened, Farhan smiled, and Arpiya almost fell over in surprise.
Had it been that long since she’d last laughed?
Her team, her family, looked lighter than they had in weeks.
“Esha, if we’re going to pursue the lead, we need you to stay behind. We need a leader in the palace,” Alok said, moving between her and Mayank.
Esha looked between Alok and Mayank. “Then I leave the troops and the palace in the care of Lord Mayank. I have to do this myself. This is a task for the Viper, not a full squad. We’ll be too noticeable.”
“Esha—” Farhan started.
She held up a hand. “I know what I’m doing. Lord Mayank has navigated this palace and its politics for years. He’ll lead in my absence.”
Mayank’s eyes widened, his brow furrowed, but he gave her a quick, eager nod. “Whatever you need, I can do.”
The team looked a bit apprehensive. Zhyani and Laksh exchanged a loaded glance. But Esha had decided.
“Now, if you do anything to jeopardize my people or this city while I’m gone, I will kill you myself,” she said simply, facing Mayank. Alok, who had been glaring at him, finally looked a bit more placated.
Mayank was unfazed. “Noted, Viper. Don’t worry, my sense of duty is almost as developed as my sense of self-preservation. I’ll do my best, if only to make sure I stay alive when you return.”
“Smart man.” Laksh chuckled.
“Aahal, Laksh, we’ll leave tomorrow,” Esha said. “To find Harun.”
And bring him home.
Chapter 4
The river under the mountain was magnificent. It gushed over the deep crevice that cradled it, splashing onto the rocky banks and soaking the edges of Kunal’s and Reha’s sandals.
Kunal and Reha stepped down into the subterranean cave, an otherworldly light filtering through the cracks in the rock to illuminate the temple below.
They walked farther inside, crossing the tiled border between the old weatherworn cave and the ancient temple. A strong wind filtered through the cracks above, and Kunal tugged his wool uttariya closer, exchanging a nervous glance with Reha. There was something unsettling about the cavern.
Kunal didn’t know what to expect. All he knew about the ritual was that he was to recite the sacred words, and Reha would offer her blood at the right time. King Mahir had said that was what the royals had done for centuries to maintain the janma bond, their gift from the gods and their connection to the land. With that, they would save their land, both of their lands.
And while it certainly hadn’t been easy getting to this point, Kunal couldn’t help the feeling prickling against the back of his neck since they had entered the cave.
Something was off.
The sixth sense that had carried him through his days as a soldier hadn’t led him wrong before.
But nothing happened. And so he continued on. It was probably just nerves, anyway. Anytime he had been about to finish a mission or enter a battlefield, he’d get a similar feeling. Kunal ignored the small part of him that whispered that this wasn’t a normal mission or battle. This was life or death for his entire country.
They dropped their packs by the edge of the water. Kunal pulled off his wool
uttariya and the top layer of his clothing, indicating at Reha to do the same. She removed the turban that had been covering her hair since they had left the palace and her straight black hair fell to her waist. It was matted and dirty after weeks of travel, much like Kunal’s.
Reha wrapped her arms around her shivering frame. “What now?”
“We start the ritual once it’s sundown,” Kunal said.
“We did it,” Reha said quietly. “We got here before the solstice deadline. We’re going to fix this.”
Kunal stepped into the river, his body seizing up in anticipation of its chilly currents. Instead, the water was gentle and warm. Kunal sank deeper into the water with each step until he was in up to his waist. Reha stepped in after him, her nose scrunched as she touched the water, her face blooming in pleasure as she also discovered the water’s pleasant temperature.
Streaks of dark stained the cave ground as the sun began to dip outside. It was nearly time.
A splash of water hit Kunal in the eye as he turned. “Hey!”
Reha grinned and splashed him again. “Don’t tell me soldiers aren’t allowed to have fun.”
“This is a holy river,” Kunal said seriously.
“And we’re here for holy reasons. But that doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun,” she said. “Don’t be such a bore.”
Kunal sputtered. “Well, if I’m a bore, I’m a bore who got you safely to the top of the mountain—”
“You did do that,” Reha said.
“And betrayed everyone around me to do it,” Kunal finished. His shoulders caved in with the weight of the unfinished ritual and the tension that he had been carrying since he had left Esha behind. He had been trying so hard to ignore it.
Reha’s eyes widened. She looked unsure about what to say to his outburst.
“Just so you know, I did the same thing,” she said. Her voice was gruff but quiet. Kunal wanted to protest, but he knew she was right. And she had little choice.
The light flickered lower, and they both glanced at the slatted windows of the cave temple. Reds and purples painted the sky, exchanged for the brilliant blue of before.
“Let’s get started,” Kunal said.
Kunal began to chant, low and steady, just like King Mahir had shown him. It was the prayer to the Sun Maiden, the first one they were ever taught as kids. A beat after, Reha began the prayer to the Moon Lord. They chanted together, the syncopated rhythms clashing and harmonizing at turns. At every eighth beat, they’d dip, cupping water into their hands and pouring it over their heads to cleanse their bodies.
The river began to hum and glow a brilliant iridescent gold. Their chanting bounced off the temple walls and echoed to fill the entire cave.
Kunal motioned Reha toward him. She stretched her arms out, crossing them at the wrists. He unsheathed his dagger and cut her forearm to provide their offering to the Sun Maiden and Moon Lord.
Their voices crescendoed and he poured the vial of blood she had stolen from Harun over her arms. It pooled together in the cradle, mixing with Reha’s blood before slowly dripping into the water below.
The river hissed as red mixed with the gold of the water. Reha looked worriedly at Kunal. He shook his head. Everything was going as King Mahir had described.
Kunal finished out the chant, letting the last of the blood fall into the river. It hit the water and spread into a thin layer of red on top of the gold. A whirlpool formed where the blood had hit the water, steam rising fast, fast enough that both Kunal and Reha stepped back and exchanged a nervous glance.
And then, nothing.
The entire river stilled.
Kunal held his breath and reached for his knife, as if it would help him if the river rose up. It didn’t. In fact, the river gave a low gurgle and returned to normal, the now-blue water gushing over itself as if nothing had happened.
That couldn’t be right.
Kunal pushed forward against the current, but Reha was one step ahead of him. She pressed the cut on her forearms again, wincing as droplets of blood dripped from her arm into the river.
Still, nothing happened.
The water did not hiss or still or acknowledge the offering in any way.
It was silent.
The walls of the temple shook ever so slightly and Kunal snapped to attention. A tremor? But no, the room stilled and they were confronted again with that deafening, mocking silence.
Kunal and Reha exchanged wary glances. This was not how King Mahir had described the ritual. This was wrong.
“Should we try again?” Kunal said. His heart thudded so loud he could hear it.
“I just did,” Reha said, her voice stuttering. “I just did, and nothing happened.”
“There was that tremor. Maybe its—”
She turned to face Kunal. “Kunal, nothing happened,” she said again, her voice rising to a shout.
He put a bloody finger to his temple. They had done everything right, so what had happened? Could the king have been wrong? He had been adamant that all they needed to do was the ritual of old. But maybe it wasn’t enough.
“Is nothing supposed to happen?” Reha pressed again.
“King Mahir said the gods would be invited down into the temple. The temple would glow and we would commune with the gods.” Kunal glanced up at Reha, his head suddenly feeling much heavier. “He also mentioned it had been harder and harder to get their attention recently.”
“But we have the blood.” Reha shook the vial. “Had the blood. We only have two more drops of the prince’s blood now and the ritual didn’t work. After all this time and all this effort. What do we do now, Kunal?”
Kunal wondered the same thing. It couldn’t be true. This had been what they had been working toward for moons. Reha, her blood, the ritual at sundown at the temple on solstice day.
He was left with only one thought. The janma bond was close to dead, and perhaps the gods wanted it that way. The river had glowed gold and accepted the offering, but to renew the bond fully, the gods needed to accept it as well. And that hadn’t happened in ten years.
The gods must no longer be honoring the ritual.
They had taken too long, taken too much from the land without giving in return.
Kunal staggered back, sitting roughly on the banks of the river. He raised his hands to cover his face.
“I don’t know, Reha,” he said, trembling. “The gods haven’t accepted our offering. I don’t know what to do next.”
“Maybe you should give someone else a chance,” a voice said from the entrance.
The fields surrounding the low western hills of Jansa were a pale watery beige, nothing like the vibrant gold and orange they had been a few years ago when Esha had been on a mission in the area.
That had been her last full mission with Harun, at the edge of the Hara Desert. She didn’t enjoy the irony that this was where she’d find him again.
Her hands tightened and loosened over the hilts of her whips. As the group drew closer to the small town, Laksh kept glancing over at her. She ignored him.
Aahal had gone ahead to lay the groundwork for their arrival. They were to act as merchants looking to supplement their recent grain yield with trade. Aahal would charm the soldiers first and then artfully direct the conversation to the recent reports from the village.
He should be almost done by now. By the time Esha and Laksh arrived, Aahal would have their lead assessed and ready. The rest was easy.
Esha had no problem breaking a few skulls on this mission. Laksh looked over again, his eyes raking over her hands and their continuous movements.
“Spit it out,” she said without turning in her saddle.
Laksh raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
At least he was being direct. For that, she gave him a real answer.
“I should say yes, but I’m terrified of what we’ll find. If Harun will even be . . . Harun. I’ve been captured before. Tortured and chained.”
“I’m
sorry to say it, Viper, but as a royal, he’s a more important catch than you were. He’ll be safe. At least from anything extreme. They’ll want him in one piece for the trade.”
“There is more to torture than just physical,” she said quietly. Her hands clenched again. Laksh reached over and grasped her reins, pulling them both to a stop in the field, the village walls now visible.
“Look, Viperess—”
Esha glared at him.
“What? I liked Bhandu’s term. It’s catchy. Would you prefer ‘our little Viper’ instead?”
“Are you trying to get hurt?” she said.
Laksh placed a hand to his heart and then to his temple, where there was still the faintest hint of purple tendrils on his skin from the poisoned knife she had thrown at him in the forest moons ago. “I think we can leave the hurting in the past.”
Esha tugged at her reins and he tugged back.
“All right, little Viper—”
“I’m not little—”
“Your prince will be fine. Maybe a bit bruised and beat up.” Esha stared at him stonily. “But nothing that can’t be fixed with the palace healers or a bit of time with you.”
She shot him a withering look. “You’re really quite annoying, you know that? It’s a good thing my knife is tucked away. It can easily slip when I’m around people who talk too much for their own good.”
Laksh grinned, unfazed. “You feel better, though, don’t you?”
She did, but instead of admitting it she sent him a haughty glare and rode on ahead.
It was odd being around Laksh. All of it was odd. How Alok, Laksh, Zhyani, and Mayank had become part of their team in these past few weeks. How she’d almost had Laksh killed but stopped when it came to light how misled he had been by Reha. How Zhyani had almost killed them all when she heard they had lost Reha.
How it was all a tangled mess now.
A figure rode straight at them, coming from the city gates. Esha pulled on her reins and her horse whinnied at the sudden change. Aahal met up with them, his turban falling off his head and a panicked expression on his face.
The Chariot at Dusk Page 3
