The Chariot at Dusk

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The Chariot at Dusk Page 9

by Swati Teerdhala


  Harun walked up and put a hand on Esha’s shoulder. Kunal frowned, his eye shifting between the two of them. “What she’s trying to say is—we’ve not all gotten along. By any stretch of the imagination. But this threat will require everything of us. We need to put away the notion that we are Jansan or Dharkan, Blade or Scale or soldier. We’re only going to succeed by working together. Yamini’s soldiers are well armed and well trained, and they’re looking to regain their honor and bond to the land. They’ll do it at any cost. So we have to be willing to do that as well. For all the Southern Lands.”

  No one looked particularly happy, but they nodded in unison.

  “I’ll help with this, but then I’m gone.” Reha’s voice was quiet at first, quiet enough that Esha thought only she had heard the words. But Harun stiffened next to Esha.

  “Nothing personal, but this wasn’t the plan.” Reha’s gaze flickered to Laksh. “I’m better off alone.”

  Whatever Reha was, it wasn’t a lone wolf. The Viper was one, and even she needed her team, but Esha remembered a time when she had thought being alone was better, easier than having to worry about others. A flicker of understanding lit in Esha, a clue to the puzzle that was the girl in front of them.

  Harun didn’t seem to have gotten the same message.

  “Reha, we need you here. This is your home,” Harun said, his brow creasing.

  “That’s not my name,” she said.

  “Aditi, then?” Esha asked. Reha flinched a little. Good.

  “No.”

  “Then what?”

  “I don’t know. I was given a name by the Thieves, but it never felt right. But Reha, that’s not me. Not yet. I’m no princess and I’m no savior.”

  Esha crossed her arms. “No one here is asking for a savior.”

  “For now,” Reha said. “But I know how this goes. Take the title of princess and I’ll be captive in this palace, never free again. I’m not meant to be a caged bird.”

  Harun looked unsure what to do, whether to push back or to let her be, so Esha stepped in.

  “All right,” Esha said. “We’ll be grateful for your help on this mission, but you’re free to go after. We won’t hold you.”

  Harun’s head snapped up, and Esha shot her hand out to grab his, squeezing it tight.

  Trust me.

  “I can work with that.” Reha’s jaw tensed but only for a second. Then her shoulders fell into an easy shrug before she sauntered off.

  Harun turned to her, accusation written all over his face. “You let her go.”

  “You don’t know how to talk to her.”

  He made a strangled noise. “Clearly! Last time I saw her was when she was a child.”

  “I know her type.”

  Harun didn’t look convinced.

  “I’ll take care of this,” Esha said, putting as much confidence into her voice as she could.

  Her first instinct was to let Reha go, give her time to see what life at the palace was like, the power, the privilege she would have. This was a girl who risked herself to try to save the land, even if it failed. She was more like that soldier than she let on. A hero.

  But a kernel of doubt lodged into her mind as Reha walked away. She knew how to play these games, but Reha had once been Dharmdev—a master puppeteer.

  Esha only hoped she hadn’t just been played.

  Chapter 11

  It took Farhan only a few days to begin decoding the copper scroll, especially once the hawk from King Mahir arrived. Esha was glad for Farhan’s speed, especially as she couldn’t shake the feeling that they were running out of time. The scholars in the Great Library had been pulled into the research as well and given as little information as Esha could get away with, merely that the matter they were researching was of the utmost importance. It had surprised her how effective that had been.

  Esha spent the day in the library helping Farhan as much as she could or out in the most dangerous streets of Gwali, searching for information or old texts that spoke of the copper scroll and the secrets within it. Everything she found she would deposit back onto the large wooden table Farhan had made his home for the past few days, to the point of having the servants send meals to it.

  Aahal would accompany Esha on some of her excursions. He was rather good at speaking to the maids and Esha was good at getting things out of men. She found she enjoyed being back in the Viper’s skin, even for a short time. It allowed her to forget everything else, to become someone else, return home in a way, even when she was stuck in Jansa. Disappearing into that old skin seemed even more necessary nowadays with the amount of time she was forced to endure the soldier’s presence.

  Kunal had become a fixture in the library too, which made Esha leave on more of her excursions than she cared to admit.

  She could tell he was angling to get her alone again to talk to her, but she was sick to death of talking. Perhaps his story would change her mind, but she knew it would take a lot longer for her heart to change.

  Something broken wasn’t easily put back together.

  Esha was in the library that morning, tracing her finger along a condensed line of old Dharkan, when Farhan’s head popped up and he made a loud noise, startling the sleeping Alok and making Esha jump.

  It took Esha a second before she realized it had been a sound of joy. She rushed over to Farhan’s side.

  “I think I’ve found something. Maybe figured this translation out,” Farhan said. He poked at Alok, who looked up sleepily at him, eyes blinking. “There are two!”

  “Two?” Esha prompted. If she didn’t edge him along, Farhan would get caught up in the intricacies of his research and findings, never to surface again.

  “Two artifacts. The ancient text speaks of two artifacts. A conch for the Moon Lord and a lamp for the Sun Maiden,” he said. Then his face dropped into a frown.

  “What’s the matter?” Kunal asked, coming over from his spot at the end of the table.

  “They say what the artifacts are . . . but not where they are. All it’s saying is that the artifacts always make their way back home, but it doesn’t mention where those homes might be.”

  “It’s progress,” Esha offered. Farhan had been taking a lot upon himself and even with the help of Kunal, who was surprisingly adept at translations, Farhan was showing signs of tiring. He only got like this when he was deep into research, and he hadn’t been given an opportunity to do that since the Vizak Operation a few years ago.

  Farhan had been interested in intelligence first and foremost, but he had followed Esha into the field to get more experience. Unfortunately for him, he had excelled in the field, so Harun and Esha had kept him there whenever they could. But here in the library, he was back in his element.

  Kunal came closer to her side of the table, so that he was only a hand’s width away from Esha. She inhaled sharply, her body instantly warming.

  That rage still simmered underneath, but it was cooler after the soldier and Reha had given their report. Not because Esha forgave or trusted him, as both would be stupid. Despite all her current misgivings, she knew in her heart they needed him for this mission. Logic made her realize this, but it didn’t change the pulsing, raw core of betrayal she felt inside her chest.

  She shifted back to Farhan, who was scribbling something and muttering under his breath. He shoved a scroll of notes out of his way.

  Kunal picked the scroll up and examined the underside, his eyebrows rising. Esha fought back her instinct to reach out to him. Even her own body was traitorous.

  “I know this symbol,” he said slowly. “I’ve seen it before.”

  Farhan looked up sharply at him. “You have?” He motioned to a scholar nearby, asking him to bring the prince over. Harun and some of the others from the team were in the corner, poring over their own piles of scrolls.

  Harun appeared a minute later beside the scholar. Arpiya followed behind him, Reha in tow. The other boys were out gathering supplies and Laksh was in the city, trying to get as much in
formation about the copper scroll as he could.

  “You called me?” Harun said, coming to her side.

  “I did,” Farhan said. “We made a bit of progress.”

  “I was telling them that I recognized this symbol,” Kunal said. He traced the pointed flower inscribed in the corner of one of Farhan’s scratch scrolls.

  “I copied this down from the copper scroll, unsure what it meant. Good thing I did,” Farhan said.

  “Can you remember where you’ve seen it before, soldier?” Esha asked. Kunal looked up at her, his amber eyes shining in the low light of the Great Library, and her chest did that annoying thing again.

  “At the temple,” Kunal said. Harun looked confused. “The temple your father took me to. The royals’ temple on the outskirts of Gwali.”

  Recognition alighted in Harun’s eyes, and Esha looked between him and Kunal, frowning. Another secret.

  “Where in the temple?” Harun asked. “I haven’t been to that temple in many, many years. Not since the coup. But I do remember the carvings in the inner temple.”

  “I’m not entirely sure where. It could be a clue, or it could be nothing,” Kunal said.

  “No, no. Every lead is a good lead in these sorts of scenarios,” Harun said, almost more to himself. He leaned the cane against the table and walked over to the copper scroll, unrolling it with careful hands. It was a delicate thing, an old thick scroll of papyrus woven through with gleaming copper threads. The inscriptions on it were half chiseled, half painted on.

  “There,” Kunal said. He pointed to the corner of the scroll, where a series of symbols trailed up the outer edge, almost like a border. “The rest of this section is empty, like someone forgot to finish it.”

  “Unlikely.” Farhan snorted. “The scholars of the Age of Gods were said to be the most meticulous. They invented the sun stone, modern arithmetic, astronomy. Any science we have today originated from them. If there’s a gap, there’s a reason.”

  Esha squinted at the scroll, turning her head. “From this angle, that gap in the scroll—doesn’t it look a bit like an inverse map?”

  Three heads turned to look at her and then turned sideways to look at the map.

  “Huh,” Harun said. “I can see that.”

  “Where’s this temple again?” Esha asked.

  “On the outskirts of the city,” Kunal said.

  Esha nodded. The sun was still high enough in the sky that they’d be able to make a trip there and back if needed.

  Reha spoke up from her uncharacteristic silence. “Isn’t this all a bit much? Copper scroll of bygone eras. Magical scholars who leave blank spaces for maps.”

  “Scientific scholars,” Farhan corrected. He frowned. “Though I suppose they did study the arcane then too.” His expression grew thoughtful and curious.

  Reha walked over to where the rest of them stood and peered over the table. She wore a light cotton sari, but her waist sash was heavy with the scabbard of at least three knives, and she kept unconsciously playing with the tassel of one. “I repeat, doesn’t it all seem . . .”

  “Reha,” Kunal said. “You spent the better part of our trip up to the mountains shifting between every known animal on this earth.”

  She flushed. “Fine, point taken.”

  Harun looked perturbed at this recollection. “Seriously? Are you all right, Reha? Father and I wondered if something of the sort might happen. We spent years gathering texts and figuring out how to train you. I mean—we hoped to—”

  “You know how to fix me?”

  “I think so,” Harun said. He hastily added, “Not that there’s anything wrong with you.”

  Esha had never seen Harun like this. Jumpy, uncertain. It was endearing. But she supposed he had never been in this situation before—trying to convince his long-lost sister to stay to get to know her family and take up her mantle as queen.

  “I have time tonight. Or tomorrow morning. If you want to try training,” Harun said.

  “Yes,” Reha said immediately. She bit her lip. “That sounds . . . fine. Kunal’s training wasn’t all that helpful, actually.”

  Esha thought she heard Kunal mutter something under his breath. She looked up and he caught her eye, making an exasperated expression at the two siblings. Esha rolled her eyes and grinned before she remembered. She looked away quickly, steeling her face back into a mask.

  “Great plan, you two,” Esha said. “Though I have to admit I’m curious to see just how many animals Reha can shift into, we have only so many hours before sundown. Let’s gather the others. We have a small trip to make.”

  Kunal hacked through the brush of overgrown vines till the marble facade of the royal temple was visible. The others trailed dutifully behind him like ants. He hopped over overgrown vines and ducked under massive arches, making his way into the inner temple. The outer structure loomed over the rain forest floor, not even bothering to blend into the foliage around it. It stood out like a sore thumb on its small hill, nestled between two larger hills that vied for attention.

  “Here it is,” Kunal said, climbing up the last steps. “The hidden temple of the royals.”

  “Wow,” was all Alok had to say.

  In the midday sun, the entire temple was cast in shifting streams of light. Only half the murals were aglow, the others dim, and yet they conveyed a magic and age that none of them had truly seen before.

  Kunal understood their awe. The temple was still as stunning as when King Mahir had brought him here. It was a living jewel nestled in the jungle.

  He walked through the entrance chamber by three gold basins, each holding water to cleanse its visitors before they entered the inner temple where the gods lay. They all stopped, everyone taking a few seconds to wash their hands and feet with the water from the basin before entering.

  “I remember seeing the symbol on the scroll somewhere here,” Kunal said once they were inside the main arches and in the inner temple.

  Harun nodded. “Then let’s search for it.”

  Despite Esha’s protests, the prince had insisted on coming, claiming fresh air would be good for him. And it seemed he was right. There was a new color in the prince’s face, and his steps were slow but sure.

  They split off into pairs: Laksh and Arpiya headed off to the west, Alok and Farhan to the east. Esha looked at the remaining people, grabbed Harun, and went to the north. That left Kunal and Reha to take the south.

  He motioned at Reha to follow him, and they began to go through each mural on the southwest corner of the temple.

  Her hands kept straying to her knives at first, but after a few minutes of uninterrupted, silent companionship, her shoulders dropped and her hands relaxed. She had been the same during their first few days on the trip, always looking over her shoulder. Kunal didn’t know what had happened in her missing years to make her that way, but he found himself angry on her behalf.

  He knew more than anyone the injustice of fate, but in Reha’s case, she had a family somewhere, lost to her. That they hadn’t been able to find their way to each other for years—it ripped apart his heart, made him want to reach out and protect her. But she’d likely break his arm if he tried. Reha was like Esha in that way.

  Reha waved him over. The murals that danced over the walls and ceilings here were inlaid with glittering topaz, rubies, and emeralds. Scattered around the jewels were deep pockmarks revealing that a few jewels were missing—or stolen. But Reha was pointing at something else, an image within the mural. “Does this look like something to you?”

  “It looks like a scroll,” Kunal said, squinting at the image. He hadn’t noticed it during his trip with King Mahir.

  Reha pointed to the corner. “I think that’s the symbol. This could be a depiction of the scroll itself.”

  “Could be. What are they doing, though?”

  Kunal stepped closer and ran a hand down the wall, carefully touching the intricately wrought image.

  The mural depicted a story of Naran and Naria, two similarl
y tall and brown-skinned figures fighting side by side, a scroll grasped between their hands. The interesting part was that the scroll was unfurled in the image and the space it took up almost matched the size of the copper scroll. Inlaid rubies dripped from the hands that held the scroll and onto the faded image of the scroll.

  There was an empty fissure in the wall to the left of the scroll, in the shape of a teardrop. Kunal peered closer at it, noticing that there had once been a ruby inlaid, but it seemed to have been wrenched out. There were flecks, tiny glittering shards, left behind in the hole.

  He traced his finger over the mural gently, tapping the rubies. One of them sparked under his finger and he jumped back.

  “What was that?” Reha said, eyes wide.

  “Magic is still alive in this temple. It was part of the reason King Mahir brought me here during my training. He said it held secrets untold, sacred to the royals. What if—”

  “What if?”

  “Does that indentation look like a droplet to you?”

  “No, it looks like a random indentation,” Reha said.

  “Humor me.”

  “Then yes, it looks vaguely like a droplet.” She tilted her head. “Kind of like a droplet of blood, though that’s a bit macabre for my taste.”

  Kunal nodded. “There was something in this teardrop before. A ruby, perhaps?”

  Reha leaned over and traced the outline of it. Almost immediately, she yanked her hand back, cradling it against her chest.

  “It shocked me.” But she stepped closer, examining it. “I think it wants to show us something. But how do we unlock it?”

  Kunal thought for a moment. “Blood? It seems to be the key to everything else. And if we’re in this temple, then it’s royal blood it’ll want. Yours is the strongest.”

  “Not strong enough to renew the ritual,” she said. Kunal gave her a look. “But all right. Not like we have anything to lose. If it tells us anything about these artifacts, it’ll be worth it, though I’d rather not be bled dry by the end of this whole escapade.”

 

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