Vara fixes him with a steely gaze. “Your lack of scruples hasn’t been kind to your disposition. And we haven’t been friends in a long time.”
He laughs and circles her like he might pounce at any moment. “Did you fly here? You must have, to have returned so quickly.” His eyes rake over her disheveled hair, her shaking knees, but Vara just stares blankly ahead. “I’m amazed you can still transform at all. Perhaps I’ve been too conservative in how often I allow myself to become the Nagaraja.” Balavan taps his bottom lip as if lost in thought. “I could change before I kill you. It would be so satisfying to devour my final prize, and you look far too weak to stop me.”
My breath catches in my throat, but then I notice Balavan’s eyes flick to Kadru as if he forgot she was there.
“Then again,” he says, “there will be something oddly satisfying about watching this through my human eyes.”
“Give Iyla her lives back,” Vara says. “And then I’ll do whatever you ask.”
I can see the calculation in Balavan’s expression. With both Vara and the relic in the same place, he doesn’t have to hold to his agreement. Vara must see it too. “You’ll keep your end of the bargain,” she says softly, “or this will get very messy.” Her gaze slides pointedly to Kadru and back again. It’s a subtle threat—Vara will tell Kadru how to destroy the relic if he doesn’t cooperate—and Balavan seems to understand perfectly.
“Very well,” he says. “Kadru, darling, you can take five hundred years from me and give them to Iyla. I’ve recently replenished.”
The last of my hope dissipates like the air from a popped balloon. Now that I’ve seen the relic, he has no intention of letting me lay eyes on it again. I’ve lost. We all have.
The idea of getting lives directly from Balavan makes me feel ill, like I’ve just been offered a bit of half-chewed bread from grimy fingers. But I’m not exactly in a position to be picky.
Balavan and I sit side by side in matching chairs. Marinda watches from across the room with two fingers pressed to her mouth.
Kadru saunters around the back of my seat. When she reaches for me, I flinch.
“You need to hold still,” she says. “If my skin touches yours, you’ll be dead within the hour. Which would rather defeat the purpose, don’t you think?” Her laughter ripples across my cheek.
“Wait,” Fazel says, “if you touch her, she dies?”
“Would you like her to demonstrate on you?” Balavan asks sharply.
Fazel’s fingers flex at his sides, and I feel Kadru stiffen behind me. I can’t see her expression, but whatever it is, it makes Fazel shrink a little. I give him a small smile that I hope is reassuring. He drops his eyes and blows a stream of air through pursed lips.
Kadru cups Balavan’s neck in her palm, and then slides her other hand under my hair and presses the tips of her fingernails against my skin. My muscles tremble as I try not to move. The sensation of Kadru’s fingernails on my neck is like walking into a familiar nightmare. It’s always followed by pain.
I squeeze my eyes closed, but instead of the sharp, wrenching agony of losing lives, this feels like the years are being firmly pressed inside me until I own them, like being kneaded with practiced fingers, until my whole body is as soft and malleable as bread dough. When Kadru finally pulls away, I’m pleasantly drowsy. My chest expands, and for a moment I wonder if it’s possible to feel the extra life teeming inside my body. And then I realize this is what people mean when they say their heart is full. This is what hope feels like.
Beside me Balavan looks stunned. A sheen of sweat glimmers on his brow. He blinks.
“Amoli,” he calls, “bring me the dagger.”
Amoli brings the dagger on a silver tray. The handle is enameled and inlaid with rubies and turquoise. My blood has dried on the blade.
“Recognize this, rajakumari?” Balavan asks. His voice is like liquid silver. “Go ahead. Take it.”
Fear slides under my skin. I keep my hands at my sides.
Amoli’s gaze darts from Balavan to me and back again. The tray in her hand trembles.
“If you want Iyla to keep all the years I just gave her, you’ll take the dagger.”
But we both know he won’t let her keep them no matter what I do. And if he thought I had any power to save her, he wouldn’t be offering me a weapon.
A lump forms in my throat. Even though Iyla’s expression is worried, her face is radiant. She looks lit from within. And Balavan is going to snuff the light from her eyes. But I can buy her more time if I obey him.
I wrap my fingers around the hilt of the dagger. Amoli doesn’t hesitate; she just snatches the tray from beneath my hand and hurries away.
Balavan’s smile is slow and wicked. “Destroy your mother’s relic.”
Even though I knew exactly what he would say, the command makes me feel as if I’ve swallowed a stone.
Vara clears her throat. “This isn’t necessary,” she says. “I’ll do it myself.”
“No,” Balavan says. “I want your daughter to do it. I want you to look into your child’s eyes while she unmakes you.”
Vara stands up and cups my chin in her hands. Her palms are cool against my face. “Everything will be fine,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “I wasn’t ever going to use the lives again anyway.” Vara’s brown eyes are glassy with tears, but still she smiles. Why did she put me in this position? Why did she bring the relic here knowing it would cost us the only advantage we had?
“I’m waiting, rajakumari,” Balavan says sharply. Vara flinches at the possessive nickname. She drops her arms and gives my hand a final squeeze.
The feather glistens like a jewel. I run my fingers along the surface, expecting it to feel like glass, but the velvety tufts tickle my palm. I think of all the lives hidden inside the relic. All the people who will never get another chance. I lift my head. Every gaze is fixed on me. They all watch with a mixture of fascination and horror. I wince as I slice into the fleshy part of my hand. Blood wells at the cut, trickles down my arm and drips on the feather. A mist begins to rise from the relic, growing thicker with each crimson drop. The beautiful blue dims to the dull gray of day-old fish.
Balavan laughs darkly. I look up just in time to see him lunge for Deven and press a dagger to his throat. My legs go weak.
“I did what you asked,” I say. “Let him go.”
Iyla, Vara and Fazel look on helplessly. Kadru stands between them and Balavan. One touch from her will kill any one of them.
Deven winces as Balavan digs the metal into his skin. A single drop of blood beads against the blade.
“It’s time to make a choice,” Balavan says. “Deven or Vara.”
I stagger backward. “What?”
“Either you kill her, or I slit his throat.”
My stomach clenches. “You’ll kill them both,” I say. “It doesn’t matter what I do.”
“Maybe,” he says. “But is that a chance you’re willing to take?”
Balavan knows he’s already won, but still he’s going to play this game all the way to the end. Until he’s the only one left standing.
The blade at Deven’s throat trembles. “Choose,” Balavan says. I swallow. Something about that blade…
When Kadru took five years from me in exchange for a vial of venom, I was unconscious for hours. And weak for hours after that. She just took five hundred from Balavan.
My satchel still hangs across my chest. Jasu catches the thread of my thoughts. She bends her mind toward mine, and the other snakes follow suit. I lift the satchel from my neck and set it on the floor. I kneel in front of Deven and brush my thumb against his cheek.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him. His eyes meet mine and I hope he understands. “I love you. I always will.”
Balavan leans forward, eager. He doesn’t notice the snakes creeping from my satchel. The dagger at Deven’s neck twitches.
Now. On my command all five snakes sink their fangs into Balavan’s ankles. His eyes fly
open, and his dagger slips from his fingers. He dives forward to snatch it from the air, but he’s too late. I’m already on my feet; my dagger is still firmly in my grasp. Before he can regain his balance, I stab him between the shoulder blades.
Balavan makes a strangled sound at the back of his throat. He reaches behind him and swipes at his shirt. His hand comes away red, and he stares at his fingers as if he doesn’t understand what’s happening. He has thousands of lives and a room full of prisoners, and yet the blood is seeping from his body. He staggers backward and falls to his knees.
Kadru watches him impassively until he calls out her name.
“Please.” He nearly chokes on the word. “The relic.”
She follows his gaze to a large, intricately carved wooden box against the wall. “There?”
Relief sweeps across his expression, but he can only manage a nod.
I watch in horror as she slides the giant snake scale from its hiding place behind the trunk.
Balavan crawls forward, his breath rattling in his chest. His fingers curl toward the scale, but Kadru steps in front of him, blocking his path.
“You need someone to help you,” Kadru says, her voice dripping with sweetness, “but I’m afraid I can’t do that.” She draws a sharp fingernail across her wrist. Blood beads at the wound. “My father taught me that mercy is weakness.” She flips her hand over and holds it above the scale. Balavan’s eyes widen in panic. A single crimson drop clings to Kadru’s skin, dangling from her wrist for several agonizing seconds before it breaks free. Balavan makes a gurgling noise that sounds like a plea, but mist is already rising from the relic as it slowly turns gray. Balavan gasps one last time before he slumps to the ground.
Tears of relief sting my eyes. It’s finally over. Kadru was on my side after all.
But then she snaps her fingers, and a half-dozen giant snakes slither into the room. Their minds are fixated on only one thought: getting to me.
It happens so fast I don’t have time to react. The largest snake wraps himself around my legs and torso, pinning me firmly in place. Two smaller snakes bind my hands in front of me.
“What are you doing!” Deven shouts. “Let her go.”
Please. My thoughts are for the snakes, for Kadru, for any gods who will listen. Please don’t do this.
Kadru stands in front of me. She takes my face in her hands. “You killed him,” she says softly, and I don’t know if it’s accusation or approval. “You were right, darling. We were more powerful when we worked together. But it’s time I let you go.”
I think of the many times Kadru pleaded with me to let Iyla go. To let Mani go. “You were never supposed to have human connections,” she said. I wasn’t wrong that she’d grown to care about me. I was just wrong to hope it might change her.
I can hear the others begging for Kadru to release me, but their voices are far away and distorted. My head swims. Why won’t they do something? But then I remember that it’s hard to fight someone you can’t touch. Jasu’s tiny mind is colored with panic. She tries to get to me, but she’s too small. Kadru’s snakes are no match for her or any of my other baby snakes.
Tears leak from my eyes and trickle down my cheeks, and Kadru wipes them away with the pads of her thumbs. “You deserved better,” she says tenderly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give it to you.”
She leans forward and plants a kiss on my forehead.
My skin prickles and then blazes. I feel a tug deep inside, like Kadru has found the string that holds me together and is slowly unraveling me. I’m being unmade. I try to pull away, but the snakes squeeze even tighter. Kadru strokes my hair softly, but her lips stay firmly planted, and the sensation of being drained overwhelms me. Black spots rush into my vision. The irony strikes me then as I feel my life ebbing away. I’m getting exactly what I deserve.
I’m going to die by a poisoned kiss.
The snakes abruptly release me, and I gasp as air rushes into my lungs. Kadru sucks in a sharp breath and staggers backward, falling heavily into a chair.
Deven rushes to my side. “What was that?” he yells in Kadru’s general direction. “What did you do to her?”
I fall into his arms. I don’t know why Kadru stopped just shy of killing me. She looks dazed as she massages her temples. Maybe she didn’t intend to. Maybe she didn’t have the strength to take all my lives at once.
Deven’s fingers roam over my face as if searching for damage. “Are you okay?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I don’t know.”
He whirls on Kadru. “I’d kill you if I could,” he says. A vein in his temple bulges. His hands are curled into fists at his sides. “Did you take her lives?”
“No,” Kadru says quietly. “I set her free.”
I lift my head from Deven’s chest and turn toward her.
“I didn’t drain you of life, Marinda. I drained you of poison.”
My heart gives a single slow beat. “What do you mean?”
“You’re no longer a visha kanya.” She gives me a trembling smile. “You’re free.”
What she’s saying can’t be possible. I look at her more closely. Fine lines have feathered at the corners of her eyes. Her skin is dull.
“What did you do?”
“I used the poison in your body to eliminate my excess years,” she says.
“You took lives from yourself?” I ask. Shock seeps into me like cold. “And poisoned them?”
“I did,” she says. “Though, to be fair, you poisoned them. It took hundreds of my years to use up all of your poison, but I did. And now you’re free.”
A lump forms in my throat. “What about you?”
“Balavan is dead,” she says. “I’m free too.”
But it’s not what I’m asking, and we both know it. She wouldn’t have used the snakes to restrain me unless she thought she needed to, unless she thought I wouldn’t agree on my own. She used them so she wouldn’t have to lie.
“Are you…” I swallow hard. “Are you going to die?”
“Yes,” she says evenly. “But it’s about time.”
A small sob escapes me. Kadru reaches out like she’s going to tuck a stray hair behind my ear, but then pulls her hand back at the last moment. “I’m sorry,” she says. “You’ve been the only person I’ve been able to touch for years. But you have no protection from me now.”
I’m no longer poisoned and no longer immune. Her touch is just as deadly to me as to anyone else.
I think of how Kadru never saw me without stroking my cheek, or grabbing my hand, or running her fingers through my hair. I always thought it was about power. It never occurred to me that she was starved for affection. My chest aches. I think of all the venomous thoughts I’ve pushed in her direction over the last few hours.
“Why didn’t you just tell me what you were planning?” I ask. “You could have let me see your thoughts. Balavan never would have known.”
“Oh, but he would have. You’ve never been as good at deception as you think you are. If you hadn’t actually believed I’d betrayed you, he never would have believed it either.” She sighs. “When I saw that the relic was gone, I knew we’d have to trick Balavan into telling us where it was. And he was never going to do that unless he needed it urgently.”
Unless he was about to die.
“But how did you know I would stab him?”
“You risked your life multiple times for them,” she says, motioning toward Iyla and Deven. “I had no doubt if I weakened Balavan enough by taking lives from him, you’d kill him to protect your friends.”
But I couldn’t protect Mani.
The grief is like a living thing inside me—a beast with giant wings—quiet for a stretch before waking again, and digging into my heart with sharp claws.
Instinctively I reach for Jasu’s mind, craving her uncomplicated comfort. But she’s not there. I spin in a slow circle, my gaze raking across the floor. And then I spot her near the other snakes. They’re curled in a pile in the far corne
r of the room. Jasu lifts her head and stares at me. She tilts her head inquisitively, like she’s waiting for me to answer a question that I haven’t heard.
Our connection is broken.
My throat burns. “I’m sorry,” Kadru says. “Your freedom comes with a price. But I promise I’ll take good care of her while I still can.”
Jasu makes her way to Kadru as if she’s been summoned—which no doubt she has—and Kadru lifts the snake onto her shoulder. The pressure in my chest grows.
“Goodbye, little one,” I say, stroking Jasu’s head with the tip of my finger. And then to Kadru, “Thank you.”
Kadru’s gaze meets mine, and something tender and raw passes between us. Her eyes glimmer in the fading light. She blinks once and then clears her throat. “Goodbye, darling,” she says. “It’s time for you to go home.”
Tears well in my eyes. I feel like a rag doll, incapable of moving.
“What is it?” Kadru asks softly. “What are you thinking?” It’s the first time she’s ever asked me that question. The first time she’s needed to.
“I don’t have a home,” I tell her.
“Your life is your own now,” she says. “You’ll find one.”
Marinda and I settle into a cottage in a quiet neighborhood in Bala City. It’s a compromise. I wanted to go back to the Blue House, but the Widows’ Village is too fraught with pain for Marinda. She says it’s a sliver in her heart—a reminder of everything she’s lost.
But I couldn’t bear the idea of living in a flat in the middle of the city—it’s a reminder of everything I used to be. Of the lives that I ruined and the lives I almost lost.
We agreed that maybe it was time to leave our memories behind—both the good and the bad ones—and start somewhere new. The cottage is painted in bright colors—squares of purple, yellow, green and red—as if the previous owners couldn’t decide on one hue and so chose them all.
Poison's Cage Page 23
