by Amy Raby
“Let’s get this chain off, and then I’ll have a chat with Zash about that poison.” He moved his left leg, and the chain rattled. “I’ve created a weak spot in the link here, but I’d only just started working on it.”
Taya picked up the chain. It was still warm to the touch. She could see the weak spot where Mandir had called fire into it previously. Melting metal was harder than summoning fire. Calling fire to a torch or anything else flammable required only a brief call to Isatis. But metal would not burn on its own. A mage had to keep pouring her magic into it, and the temperatures required were much hotter than those needed to burn wood. “I’ll do it,” she said. Since she was a fire seer, Isatis responded better to her than to most Coalition ilittu; what might take Mandir hours, she could do in a few minutes.
“Thank you,” he said, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the wall.
Poor Mandir; he looked exhausted. How long had he been trapped here? He could have summoned water from the air once his magic had returned, but he probably hadn’t eaten in a while, especially if Zash had been out of commission and unable to feed him. Melting those chains would have taken a lot out of him.
She pulled the chain taut. Fixing her attention on the weak spot, she called fire into the bronze link. The metal grew hot and turned red.
It wasn’t enough; the metal was not yielding. She called more fire into the link.
“Shall I help?” asked Mandir.
“No. Lie there and rest.” The link went from red to orange, orange to yellow. Now she was getting somewhere. The link distorted, bulging at one end and growing narrow at the other. A drop of liquid metal fell to the ground and sizzled in the dirt, as if the chain wept teardrops of bronze.
“Flood and fire,” whispered Amalia.
Another drop fell, and another. Taya pulled harder on both ends of the chain. The superheated metal began to stretch.
“Never seen someone do it that fast,” said Mandir. “You’ve almost got it.”
The metal elongated ludicrously, like bread dough. Then, suddenly, she felt the chain give, and it parted. “Done,” said Taya, dropping the piece that attached to the wall. She kept hold of the other end, since it was still superheated and attached to Mandir. She watched the yellow fade to orange and then back to red. “Don’t move yet. I don’t want that hot end burning you. How did you capture Zash?”
Mandir shrugged. “Nothing to it. He was a fool.”
The chain returned to its customary dark gold color. She released it.
Mandir got to his feet with a grunt of pain and moved toward the still figure on the ground. “Zash. What’s this about a three-day poison?”
The inert body did not respond.
Mandir kicked Zash savagely in the leg.
Zash, suddenly awake, screamed and curled into a fetal position.
Mandir roared, “What’s this about a three-day poison?”
Clutching his leg, Zash spoke between sobbing breaths. “I poisoned...both of you...with it. If you want...antidote...must...heal me.”
“He’s lying,” said Amalia. “There’s no three-day poison.”
Mandir met Taya’s eyes with raised brows.
“Amalia and I made a deal,” said Taya. “I’ll tell you about it later.”
“Poisoned both of you,” gasped Zash. “Both going to die. If you want antidote...heal me...then let me go. I’ll send word with the location of the antidote.”
“As if we’d believe that.” Mandir kicked him in the leg again. Zash screamed.
“There’s no poison and no antidote,” said Amalia. “He’s making it up to save himself.”
“I’ve never heard of a poison that takes three days to work,” said Mandir. “But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.”
“We certainly can’t let him go,” said Taya.
“Agreed,” said Mandir. “I’m not inclined to heal him either.”
“Only one day left before the poison takes effect,” croaked Zash.
Mandir kicked him again. “No more words from you, zebu’s ass.”
Chapter 41: Hrappa
Taya draped Zash over Pepper’s saddle for the journey back to the residence. The man had a broken leg, a broken arm, and likely a few other broken bones as well. He couldn’t walk, and while Mandir might have had the strength to carry him, he clearly didn’t have the desire. Taya stood at the mare’s head and held her pace to a measured walk. Pepper arched her neck and stiffened her body; she got claustrophobic and anxious when she couldn’t stretch her limbs. But for all that Taya tried not to knock Zash about, every stride elicited a groan of pain.
When they reached Zash’s house, Mandir dragged Zash off the horse and laid him on the floor. Then the three of them took the house apart, looking under beds and tables, dumping out jugs, and emptying shelves. When Amalia, with a cry of delight, found the key to Mandir’s manacles, they paused in their work to unshackle his wrists and ankles.
Taya found her mission tablets and her missing vial of kimat beneath a blanket draped over a chair. The kimat was half gone—used up on her and Mandir, in those darts—but at least she knew definitively that Zash had been the one to steal it. Mandir discovered a jar of thin, clear liquid which he sniffed and identified as Echo. But even after searching the wine cellar and a cluttered storage room, they found nothing they could identify as a three-day poison or its antidote.
“Because it doesn’t exist,” Amalia insisted.
Taya hoped she was right, since it was her own life at stake. But short of searching the house over and over again, she could think of nothing more they could do about it.
The trip back to Hrappa was slow, since they were still burdened with Zash. They reached the city gates half an hour before closing and proceeded into the city. At the Hall of Judgment, they spoke to the guards, and Kalbi came out to meet them.
“Is the magistrate available?” asked Taya, uncertain whether she felt comfortable dealing with his son. She did not know Kalbi well, and was not certain whether she could trust him. But then, the magistrate himself was not trustworthy either.
“The magistrate is very ill,” said Kalbi. “We think he may not last the night.”
“I’m sorry,” said Taya.
Kalbi’s gaze fell on Zash’s half-broken body draped over the horse. “What happened to him?”
“Coalition justice,” said Mandir.
“We need custody for Zashkalim until morning,” said Taya. “Do you have a strongroom for holding prisoners?”
“Two of them.” Kalbi nodded toward the guards, who came forward and dragged Zash off the horse.
“We need custody for this one, too,” said Mandir, taking Amalia by the arm.
“What?” squeaked Amalia.
Taya turned and shook her head. She didn’t want Amalia taken into custody; the girl had kept her end of the bargain and helped her find Mandir.
Mandir pushed Amalia forward.
“It’s not fair, I didn’t do anything,” cried Amalia. “I helped you!”
“Mandir—” began Taya.
He silenced her with a look of warning.
“Is one of these people the jackal who killed my brother?” asked Kalbi.
“We’ll make our findings known in the morning,” said Mandir.
Kalbi nodded to another guard, who seized Amalia by the arm.
“Taya, you promised you would help me!” cried Amalia.
“We’ll work something out in the morning,” said Taya. “I swear it on the Mothers’ names.” But right after saying it, she regretted her oath. Could she really help this girl? Amalia had violated Coalition law, not once but multiple times. Taya bit her lip as the guards hauled her away.
She was still staring at the space Amalia had been when Mandir took her gently by the hand. “Let’s talk.”
She followed him numbly to the guesthouse. When they were inside, he shut the door. “What’s going on with the girl?”
“I can’t kill her,” said Taya. “She came t
o me willingly. She came here, right to my door, and confessed everything. She didn’t kill all those people the magistrate claimed. She killed only one of them.” She related the story Amalia had told her that morning, and told him about her visits to Vella’s and Bodhan’s.
Mandir listened impassively. When she was finished, he said, “Makes no difference. The girl has to die.”
“I made a deal with her.” Taya gritted her teeth. She’d never expected to honor every provision of the deal—some of the girl’s demands were impossible—but she’d intended to honor as much as she could. Now that she faced the girl’s imprisonment and the death sentence that must follow in the morning, she couldn’t bear it. Amalia might deserve punishment of some sort, but not that.
“You can’t honor an agreement you made with a jackal,” said Mandir. “When the Coalition finds out, they’ll kill her and you. Is that what you want?”
“She killed one man, and it was because he was hurting people and nobody else was stopping him.”
“Murder is murder.”
Taya shook her head. She wasn’t so sure. “Besides, Amalia never meant to be a jackal. She wanted to join the Coalition when she first discovered her Gift, but Zash wouldn’t let her. He killed her parents to stop her from going.”
“I know all this,” said Mandir. “It’s unfortunate, but it doesn’t change anything.”
“You don’t understand,” said Taya. “Amalia is not the criminal here. Zash is.”
“I do understand. I’m in perfect agreement with you about that,” said Mandir. “And I’m telling you it doesn’t matter. Coalition law says this woman has to die, and as a quradum and enforcer of the Coalition’s laws, I am duty-bound to carry out that sentence. I understand if you haven’t the stomach for it, but—”
“It’s not right!” she cried. “Amalia shouldn’t die at all.”
He advanced on her. “Do you have any idea what the Coalition will do to us if we let this woman go? Taya, it’s your life at stake here. Do you understand? That’s the only reason I’m willing to kill this poor girl: to save you. I saw you almost die once before, and I’m not going to let it happen again.”
He stood over her with his fists clenched. If he were any other person—indeed, if he had been the Mandir she had known at Mohenjo Temple—she would have been terrified and calling to Isatis for her fire magic. Yet she was unafraid. Mandir was determined and forceful when it came to getting his way, but he wouldn’t hurt her. The old Mandir might have, but this one wouldn’t.
She swallowed. “You’re hardly one to talk, when you’ve broken Coalition law already.” When he opened his mouth to protest, she cut him off. “The banana plants. Don’t tell me you didn’t do it. I know you did.”
After what seemed an interminable silence, he said, “It’s not the same thing.”
“It’s exactly the same thing, and do you think I don’t care? The Coalition might go easy on me; it’s my first offense, and I’m a fire seer. But you’ve had a Year of Penance already. They’ll burn you to death if they find out what you did.”
“I thought you wanted me dead,” said Mandir.
“Of course I don’t,” Taya snapped. “Maybe I did once, but that was a long time ago.”
He let out a shaky breath. “I would have told you. But I thought you would turn me in.”
“I would never have turned you in,” said Taya. “Not for helping a few farmers. What do you think I am?”
Mandir regarded her with soft eyes. He did not answer.
“According to Zash, I’m going to die tomorrow anyway,” said Taya, pulling out a chair and dropping heavily into it. “I might as well do a bit of good first.”
“By letting this girl go?”
“I can’t kill her, Mandir. I just can’t.”
“Remember the flood?” said Mandir. “She tried to kill you.”
“I forgive her for that.” Taya met his eyes. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve forgiven somebody for something that seemed unforgiveable at the time.”
Mandir’s eyes misted. He went to the table and sat across from her. “Have you really forgiven me?”
She nodded. “I have. And Mandir, I didn’t join the Coalition to become a bully and a thug. I don’t want to burn this girl to death. And if I’m going to die anyway—”
“You’re not,” he said. “Amalia’s right about that. Zash made it up.”
“We don’t know for sure.” She choked as her throat tightened.
In an instant, Mandir was up, dragging her out of the chair, and pulling her into his arms. “It’s all right,” he crooned, stroking her hair. “You’re not going to die, and I’ll figure out something to do about Amalia, I promise. If you’re certain we can’t kill her, then we won’t.”
“But what can we do?” They were trapped. They couldn’t kill the girl, and yet Mandir was right; the Coalition expected them to do it and would punish them if they didn’t.
“Right now I want you to get some sleep,” said Mandir. “You’re exhausted, and we don’t have to think about this until morning.”
Taya nodded but did not move. She was reluctant to leave the warmth of his arms. She looked up at him, drinking in the sight of his warm gaze, observing for the first time the slight imperfections in the red tattoos beneath his eyes. He was not a god, not a prince. He was just a man, and she liked him. Maybe she even loved him. What a thought, her and Mandir.
He bent down and pressed his lips to hers. It startled her at first—kissing was not something she had much experience with—but he was gentle, and she decided she liked it. She parted her lips to show that he was welcome, and after a moment she began to reciprocate.
He released her with a sigh of contentment. “Go to bed and get some rest. No matter what happens tomorrow—I love you, Taya.”
Chapter 42: Hrappa
In the morning, Mandir sent for Rasik and had him bring breakfast. Now that they had Zash in custody, he and Taya didn’t need to worry anymore about poisoned food. He ate alone, lingering over his flatbread, goat cheese, and bananas, thinking about Taya and the young jackal she couldn’t bear to kill. Perhaps it would be best all around if he went to the Hall of Judgment this morning and carried out the sentence on his own. That would spare Taya any involvement in the gruesome task while making sure she didn’t break the most sacred of Coalition laws.
She’d be furious with him, of course. That part made his stomach turn. He’d worked hard to earn her good opinion—he’d even kissed her last night, and felt her kiss him back!—and he did not want to squander that good opinion now.
Still, better Taya should be angry at him than condemned to death for breaking Coalition law. He was fairly certain the Coalition would look the other way when it came to her healing Zash’s trees. She’d been forced to do so, after all, and the Coalition valued Taya. They desperately needed their handful of fire seers. But they would never tolerate her letting a jackal go free. The Coalition survived by having a monopoly on magic. They were fanatical about stomping out unauthorized magic use. If he and Taya let Amalia go, the Coalition would declare them rogue and have them hunted down and killed as jackals themselves.
He sighed. Why did Taya have to make a friend of the girl?
He’d made up his mind: he would go to the Hall of Judgment and execute Amalia. Taya might never forgive him, but at least she wouldn’t be in trouble with the Coalition, and she’d be spared the agony of having to watch the girl die. Mandir could carry that burden better than she; his soul was stained enough already.
He shaved and dressed, lingering longer than he should out of distaste for the task that lay ahead. Finally he set out from the guesthouse and headed down the dusty road.
At the Hall of Judgment, he sent for and spoke to Rasik. “I need Amalia.”
Rasik nodded and disappeared into the building.
“Wait!” called a voice behind him.
Flood and fire. He turned and saw Taya running up the steps, her clothes flapping about her
in her mad rush, her hair sticking out of its headdress. She reached the top of the steps and halted. “You can’t do this without me.”
“Go back to the guesthouse,” he said. “It will be easier on you—”
“Easier? What are you planning to do?”
“What has to be done,” said Mandir.
She shook her head. “We can’t do that.”
“You can’t. But I can.”
“Mandir—” She stopped short as Rasik came out of the front doors, holding Amalia by the arm.
“Thank you,” Mandir said to Rasik. He seized the girl by the wrist and dragged her down the steps.
“What’s going on?” Amalia cried, trying to wrench her arm out of his grip.
Taya hurried to his side. “You said we’d talk about this. You haven’t the authority to act on your own. We’re a team, and besides, I outrank you.”
Amalia tried to peel his fingers off her wrist. “Let go. What’s going on?”
Turning to Taya, Mandir sighed. “All right, we’ll talk about it.”
He went with Taya to her guesthouse, dragging Amalia behind him. The girl had stopped fighting and came willingly enough, though he could feel that she was tense and frightened.
Once they were inside and the door closed, Amalia turned to Taya. “We had a deal.”
Taya grimaced. “The truth is—”
“She can’t keep that deal,” said Mandir, knowing Taya would have trouble breaking the bad news as bluntly as it needed to be broken. “It’s against the law. Coalition policy says you have to die.”
“What?” shrieked Amalia. “But I never wanted to be a jackal. I was forced! I want to join the Coalition!”
“You can’t,” he said shortly.
“Mandir!” protested Taya.
“Why kill me?” cried Amalia. “It was Zash who did everything. Zash forced me to become a jackal. He killed our parents. He killed Jaina. He poisoned you—”
“Zash did not do everything,” said Mandir. “You killed Hunabi. And you tried to kill Taya as well.”
Amalia began to cry.
Taya turned to him. “We haven’t told anyone that she’s the jackal, have we?”
