by Payal Doshi
To my grandfather, Suman Doshi or Pops as I loved to call him, who isn’t here with us anymore, but who I remember every day. I was cleaning out my childhood room in my parents’ house when I found a blue-lined ruled paper with brown age spots that I’d safely kept in a folder with pages from my very first draft. I had forgotten it was you who I trusted to read these nascent, un-polished words and I will forever cherish your note on that blue-line paper. It said, ‘What a mysterious way to end chapter five! I think you have great talent. Congratulations and do phone me.’ I love you, Pops. Thank you for always believing in me.
To the most important girl in my life, my daughter Norah. You’ve turned two, and it is for you and every little Indian girl like you around the world for who I write this book. May you always see what we see—a fierce and brilliant hero of your own life’s story. You inspire me endlessly.
And lastly, but most devoutly, to my husband, Rohan Moradian, after whom I named ‘Rohan Chettri.’ This book would not be possible without your steadfast support, your willingness to bend work hours to fit in my writing time and your belief in me and this book. You are my pillar of strength, the sun breaking through the clouds, the light at the end of every tunnel. Thank you for listening to me go on and on about plot and story ideas and understanding my frustrations when the characters in my fictitious worlds don’t cooperate with me. You are my everything, forever and always.
Writers dream of many things—putting that final period at the end of the last sentence of their manuscript, seeing their words in print, holding their book with their name in their hands. It has been a decade long journey and I feel blessed to have experienced what it feels like to have a dream come true. It’s like a sprinkle of pari dust.
keep reading for a
sneak peek into book 2!
REA AND THE SORCERER OF SHADOWS
Sequel to Rea and the Blood of the Nectar
Snow fell thick and fast, pelting the waters of the Sea of Lilies. Sullen clouds blanketed the sky, casting a veil of gloom that matched Rea’s mood. She looked outside; her head leaning against the carriage window, her palm propped under her chin. It was her first winter in Astranthia. The snow had come early, they told her, and the white and yellow lilies, cured of their serpent curse, bobbed over the waters, stubbornly weathering the onslaught of snow collecting within their petals.
Soon, they’ll sink, thought Rea, knowing what that felt like. She remembered how she and Leela had been pulled under by the wretched serpent-lilies. More than a year had passed since that fateful night on the lake. Still, whenever the water rippled, try as she might, she couldn’t forget the horrific sight of the serpent-lily bite on Leela’s leg and how close she had come to losing her best friend.
With a shiver, Rea pushed the memories aside and turned her gaze back into the carriage, taking comfort in the company of her friends. Xeranther was sitting beside her, and Leela and Rohan sat across. They were on their way to have lunch at the Royal Palace of Astranthia as they did every day after school.
“We’ve got to find out where Razya is,” Rea said. She drew her pistachio-green school robes around her to keep the heat from escaping her body. “Oleandra is getting impatient. Every week during our Vossolalia training sessions, she grills me about when I’m going to make good on the bloodoath.”
The idea of another potentially fatal quest made Rea queasy. The only reason she didn’t regret taking the bloodoath to kill Razya was because it had saved Rohan. The problem now was that she had to put it into action.
“Has Thubian heard anything?” Xeranther asked, a flicker of reverence in his voice. Ever since she had introduced him to the cefflydwer a few months ago, Xeranther worshipped him.
“Just that Razya was spotted in a desert called the Desert of Perpetual Dusk.”
“Where’s that?” asked Rohan.
“I don’t know. Astranthia is as foreign to me as it is to you,” Rea said with a hint of irritation, and then immediately regretted it. A year didn’t turn a place into a home. Most days, she felt as clueless and lost as she had the first time she portaled into Astranthia.
They all turned to Xeranther.
“The Desert of... what was that?” he asked. Breath misted from his nose.
“Of Perpetual Dusk,” repeated Leela.
“Not a blossom of an idea.”
“Are you sure?” asked Rea. She wanted to know what surprises lay in store for them if they decided to go there.
“You’re all aware, I don’t know every place in Astranthia, right? Although, if you want to go during exams week then count me in. It would be a better use of my time than failing a pile of tests.”
“Oh, you’ll be fine!” said Leela, slapping his knee tenderly. “I’ll bring my notes and we’ll study together, okay? Besides, it’s multiple choice—those exams are much easier.”
Rea sighed. “I feel you, Xee. Whenever I don’t know the answer, I always check the second option. Probability says you’ll luck out with at least a few.”
Xeranther dropped his head. “Ugh, I hate exams.”
The royal carriage, drawn by three silver horses, gave a low rattle as it trundled along a lilac-stone bridge.
Bajai’s first order of business as Queen had been to build a bridge over the Sea of Lilies, connecting the palace to all Astranthians. It arched, long and wide, over the mammoth lake. Under Amma and Bajai’s reign, the bridge became a symbol of the New Astranthia. Citizens from all over the realm gathered together and planted the most beautiful flowers along its railings in tribute to their true Queens returning to the throne.
Rea cracked open the carriage window as she always did when they reached the bridge. White, iridescent blossoms with glittery stamens wrapped the bridge’s parapet from end to end like strings of mogra on a bride’s hair. She breathed in their scent—dense and heady like summer flowers in an earthen pot. Amma had magicked the blossoms with her nectar so they smelled like tea leaves and tuberose, Rea’s favorite flower. She had known Rea and Rohan were going to miss Darjeeling terribly.
“Anyway, it doesn’t matter if we don’t know where the Desert of Perpetual Dusk is,” said Leela, rounding the conversation back to Razya. “Since it’s in Oleandra’s best interest that we find her, I’m sure she’ll brew us more of the root-traveling wortel-motus potion that we used to get to the Village of the Dead.”
“And how are we going to get to Oleandra?” asked Rohan. He loosened the stem-belt around his school robe. The cold hardly ever seemed to bother him. Rea, on the other hand, shivered and quickly closed the window. “Amma never lets us step out anywhere without him.”
He eyed their chaperone, a man dressed in Astranthian winter casual—a russet-leaf-tunic, softbark trousers, a coat of feathers, and a jute-woolen hat—who doubled as a soldier and a caretaker. He was sitting in front with the coachman, out of earshot for once. “Besides even if we did figure out how to get to Oleandra and the desert, how do we find Razya?”
“Glad you asked,” said Rea, grateful that Rohan wanted to help shoulder the burden of their bloodoath in spite of never signing the oath himself. There was a time when they couldn’t count on each other. Thankfully, that time was in the past. “Leela and I had an idea.”
Rohan traded a quizzical look with Xeranther, and Leela nodded for Rea to go on. They’d been discussing ways in which they could hunt down Razya, and it was only today in class that they stumbled upon something intriguing.
“We know that Shadow Magic is the darkest application of nectral magic and that its effects can linger a long time. Sometimes for days or even years,” said Rea. The others nodded, encouraging her to continue. “Well, Leela and I were studying for ethics class, and we found this interesting passage in our Civics of Nectral Magic textbook.” She dug around in her bag and presented the worn, leather-bound book. Beneath its title were the words: Rights and Duties of the Bearers of the Nectar. “There’s a list of places mentioned in here that were destroyed or damaged by Shadow Magic. One of thos
e places is the Reed Caves. It isn’t too far away. A day’s journey at most.”
Xeranther leaned back. “I’m not so sure I like where this is going...”
Rea glanced at Leela and then out the window. They were barely halfway to the palace. The bridge stretched before them, seemingly without end.
“Wait a minute,” said Rohan. “You both actually think we’ll find Shadow Magic at the caves?”
“We can’t be sure until we look, but if we’re lucky, maybe we’ll find some lingering residue...” Rea tried not to sound too hopeful.
“But would we know when we saw it?” asked Xeranther. “I don’t know about you, but I could be standing right in the middle of a ring of Shadow Magic and not have the faintest idea.”
“He’s right,” said Rohan. “Not to mention the last time someone might have used Shadow Magic there was probably years ago.”
Xeranther nodded, unwrapping a yellow aam-fruti. He squeezed his eyes shut when the mango-flavored candy burst into a fizzy sherbet in his mouth and he licked his lips, relishing its sweet and tangy taste. A drop splattered on his lotus-pink school robes and he wiped it with his ungloved hand. Xeranther never felt cold. “If I remember correctly, Shadow Magic has no color or appearance that can be spotted easily. It changes with every bearer’s intentions and motivations. I reckon we wouldn’t know what to look for.”
Leela turned towards him looking impressed.
“What? I pay attention in class sometimes,” he grinned.
“I had to kick you awake in History of Astranthia today.”
“On my orders!” Xeranther said, and Leela laughed, shaking her head.
“Rea, what do you think?” asked Rohan, raising an eyebrow. “Isn’t it a problem, not knowing what to look for?”
“Not for now,” she replied. “Leela and I considered it, and we think we might have found a way to identify Shadow Magic.”
“Please, do expound,” he urged with a regal gesture. Only Rohan could carry off using unnecessary fancy words and sounding pompous while not offending the people around him. It was no secret that one of his biggest pet peeves was not being in the know about something others knew about.
Some things never change, thought Rea, with an affectionate eye-roll specially reserved for him.
“Okay, so in your Study of Manifestations class, you’re learning how to use your nectral powers to create manifestations, right?” Leela chimed in, waving her arms excitedly as she tried to demonstrate creating a nectral manifestation.
“Like when Razya turned into Mishti Daadi?” Rohan asked with a slight tilt of his head.
“Er, sort of.”
“I’m not following the connection,” said Rohan.
“Me neither.” Xeranther shook his head.
“Well,” Rea said, turning to Rohan, “Leela and I were wondering if there was any way you could create a manifestation that I could charm to sniff out Shadow Magic.”
“Like a dog that can follow a trace...” explained Leela.
“...and lead us straight to Razya!” Rea finished.
“Let me get this straight,” said Rohan. “Your plan is for me to manifest into a being whose nose you will charm into having super Shadow Magic sniffing abilities that will then lead us to Razya?” He glanced at them with such skepticism that Rea, on hearing their ‘plan’ being described like that, realized it was as stupid as licking an icicle. Just last week, she had licked one thinking it might taste like a popsicle but instead her tongue got glued to it!
“Don’t look at me,” Xeranther said, holding up his hands. “You’re the one who has to turn into a dog.”
Rea glared at Xeranther. But he was right. Rohan was the most crucial aspect of this far-fetched plan and she didn’t want him to think it was ridiculous. Ever since she had saved him, he told anyone who listened how brave and smart she was to have found the portal and battled Razya. She didn’t want to lose her newly acquired standing in his eyes. Or anyone else’s for that matter. She had finally begun to shed the image of being the ‘dumb twin.’
“What if you tried an outward manifestation instead of turning yourself into the manifestation? That way I can charm the object with a sniffing spell, and we can take it to the caves to pick up the scent of Shadow Magic,” said Rea.
“Great idea!” exclaimed Leela. “It would also take away the pressure to get the charm spell right the first time. Incorrectly charming an inanimate object would be infinitely better than incorrectly charming Rohan’s nose with super-sniffing abilities and causing potential irreversible damage.”
Blasting buds, I hadn’t even thought about that! Rea shuddered at the thought. She looked at Rohan, but he was biting the inside of his cheek like he always did when he was assessing a situation. If she had to guess, she’d bet he was trying to work out if she and Leela had lost their minds.
Snow sprinkled over the bridge like a dusting of flour on a dough-ball of roti. Rea waited for Rohan to say something, anything. Thirty seconds went by. Thirty-one, thirty-two... The only sound filling the silence was the clip-clopping of the horses’ hooves.
“You know what, it could work,” Rohan said, giving a definitive nod, and Rea squealed with delight. “I’ll have to do some research, but I think I can create a manifestation that will do the trick.”
“We knew we could count on you!” Leela said, high fiving him.
“I still don’t understand how we’re going to do this, but if everyone’s on board then we’re going during exams week,” Xeranther stated, once and for all, as though exams were the scarier of the two options.
“Let’s not get carried away,” said Rea. “I don’t know if the plan will work.”
“Only one way to find out,” said Rohan. “Let’s get to the palace and brainstorm on possible ideas. I already have a few I can think of.”
He had automatically assumed the role of a leader even though it was Rea and Leela’s idea. Things like that rarely bothered Leela, and for the first time Rea didn’t mind that Rohan was taking charge. She could tell his mind was racing with their next steps. He looked beside himself with excitement even though he was the one who had had the worst experience with their last adventure. For a brief second, Rea felt as if she, Leela and Xeranther were the cool kids Rohan wanted to hang out with, and she smiled.
Suddenly, the carriage trembled, and a flash of billowing white robes flew past them. They peeked out.
An Asurai Master was galloping towards the palace on horseback.
Leela frowned. “Protocol suggests you cannot supersede a transporter of royalty unless permission is obtained. The Asurai Master had to know this was a royal carriage. The crest is hard to miss.”
“The silver horses are pretty telling too,” said Xeranther. Silver horses were exclusively bred in the palace stables and were only used by Astranthian royalty.
Rea didn’t care about royal protocol. It didn’t bother her that the Asurai Master had overtaken their carriage. Last time she checked there were no speed limits on horses in Astranthia.
“Why is he in such a hurry though? It has to be something serious.” She opened the carriage window and stuck her head out. The galloping horse was already out of sight. An icy gust of air buffeted her face and she quickly drew the window shut.
Rea slumped in her seat as the carriage rolled along leisurely. At this rate, they would never catch up with the Asurai. They needed to go faster, but the coachman was under strict instructions by Amma not to drive recklessly.
Then, Rea’s eyes glinted.
“Hold on tight, Baxflut Uncle!” she yelled to the coachman, who she felt uncomfortable calling by his first name alone. It was unthinkable to address an elder like that in India. “You, too, Sepai Sabir!” The steely chaperone turned towards her, his expression stoic.
Placing her palm on the door, Rea concocted a charm, weaving the right words with the right intentions. Her woolen-hemp gloves embellished with frozen dew glowed silvery-golden. As she cast forth her nectar, it flowed
through her fingers, onto the window, and over the carriage wheels. Swift as wind, the carriage lifted above the ground, and flew towards the palace.
Xeranther, Leela, and Rohan lurched backwards but their shock quickly turned into knowing grins.
“Diddley dingleloppers!” yelped the coachman as the horses whinnied. He swiveled to face Rea, who winked at him, and he roared with laughter. “Fly, fly us, high into the sky!” he sang as Sepai Sabir rigidly held onto the carriage railing. He wasn’t pleased, Rea could tell (although that was his general disposition anyway), but this time she made sure to give him a heads-up before wielding her nectar. She had learnt early on (after a spine-shuddering reproach) that he did not enjoy being surprised.
As soon as the carriage came to a halt, the four of them jumped out and darted towards the palace. Rea glanced backwards to check if Sepai Sabir was furious at her, but he gave her the tiniest nod as he tucked away a lock of sun-golden hair that slipped out of place from under his hat. Rea grinned and ran to catch up with Rohan, Xeranther and Leela, who were almost through the ornate palace doors.
The last thing Bajai had done before handing over the reins of Queenship to Amma was restore the Royal Palace of Astranthia back to its former beauty. She had banished the macabre rot that Razya had infused into sconce, wall, and chandelier, and replaced it with warmth and welcome. The dark, grim façade had been painted over with hues of peach and mauve with sparkles of gold and pomegranate pink. The creepy, decayed flowers that once covered the walls were gone, and in their place, opulent and delicate blossoms rich with fragrance and song detailed door frames and vestibules. The bone-colored balconies with their gaping holes, which had once given Rea the shivers, were repaired and decorated with rainbow-colored ivy. The palace felt like a celestial garden in the heavens of Indra—fresh, airy, scented, and magical—as if new life had been breathed into it.
