“If you still believe in that ridiculous prophecy—” Kali begins.
“That prophecy is why my parents died!” I snap. “It’s why you both were tortured in that labor camp, why that woman in Javeribad lost her baby. Raja Lohar will be coming for me anyway, so isn’t it better if I meet him head-on? Maybe I’ll die in the process, but that’s better than coming so close and doing nothing!”
“This is not what Juhi wanted.” Amira shakes her head. “As much as she believed—still believes—in that prophecy, she never meant for you to die because of it. Use your mind, Gul. Allow yourself to think rationally. If, by some miracle, you win this so-called duel and the king dies, he’ll be succeeded by Yuvraj Sonar, who is known throughout Ambar for his cruelty. Sonar will leave no stone unturned in trying to avenge his father. Also, if you think Ambar under Lohar’s rule is bad, then try imagining a reign of the crown prince.”
Maybe it’s because Amira called me Gul and not princess. Or maybe it’s simply because of the horrible ring of truth in her words—one that even I can’t deny.
“If I leave with you, then I need to warn Cavas first,” I say finally. “I don’t want him getting caught unawares.”
“Now isn’t the time to be noble,” Kali says impatiently. “If by chance something goes wrong or someone else discovers our plan to get you out—”
“It’s not about being noble! More than one person has seen me talking to him.” Malti. Amar. The stable master, Govind. “Tell me, Kali. Who do you think they will turn to when I’m gone?”
Amira glances warily between me and a furious Kali. Neither of them responds.
“If I disappear, the first people they’ll come for are Cavas and his father. I can’t…” My voice trails off. I think of the grim resignation I saw on Cavas’s face, his fierce love for his only parent. If either of them gets hurt because of me, I’ll never be able to forgive myself.
There’s a long silence.
“You have tonight,” Amira speaks this time, her voice calm.
My stomach swoops.
“What?” Kali’s head turns so quickly I hear the bones in her neck snap. “Amira, you can’t be serious!”
“Tonight,” Amira repeats. “Figure out a way to tell him, princess. Decide what you want to do. Because tomorrow, we leave, regardless of whether or not you’ve succeeded. Whether you want to come with us is up to you.”
There’s a flicker of emotion in her eyes—an understanding I saw only once before, the night I ran away from the Sisters’ house in Javeribad.
“Our plan involved rescuing Gul, not taking her with us by force,” Amira tells Kali. “She isn’t our ward anymore. She made the choice to come here. Let her decide if she wants to leave.”
I realize that deep down, Amira probably knows what my decision will be, what it has been since the day I saw the head thanedar snatch an infant from her mother in Javeribad, since a group of Sky Warriors entered my world and ripped it apart.
32
CAVAS
“You did the right thing.”
Govind’s soft voice startles me, nearly making me drop Dhoop’s saddle to the floor. Catching myself in time, I place the saddle carefully over the blanket on the pony’s back and adjust its position before kneeling to tighten the girth.
I don’t need to ask the stable master what he’s referring to. Govind was inside the building, only steps away, listening when Gul came to see me earlier this morning, dressed in royal finery—a princess in every way except in name. It should have been easy to remain cold and detached, to raise a wall between myself and a girl who was little more than a beautiful stranger, her lips rouged and shiny, her eyes painted in jeweled tones, not a single black hair out of place. But then she scowled at me for calling her Siya ji, throwing me back to another time, another girl whose eyes burned fire, whose hand I had trouble letting go of.
“Knew she was trouble, that girl,” Govind continues. “From the moment I saw her.”
“Latif doesn’t seem to think so.” My words, though quiet, wipe away Govind’s tentative smile.
“Speaking of Latif, we need to get certain things clear,” he whispers harshly. “You need to stop communicating with him.”
I frown. “Why?”
“He’s dangerous! He will get you and your father into trouble.”
“If that’s true, why did you introduce me to him?” I turn around, looking him straight in the eye. “Why did you put us in danger?”
“I did that to help your father.” Govind grits his teeth for a moment and then lowers his voice. “I wanted to save Xerxes’s life. And I told you to be careful around Latif. Do you think I’m a fool? I know what you’ve been doing to earn Latif’s help. I overheard you feeding him information about the palace. I didn’t say anything at first, because I knew how desperate you were.
“But that girl being here and trying to talk to you is another story altogether. I am not entirely certain how she got into the palace, but I have a feeling Latif is involved. Isn’t he?”
I say nothing in response, and Govind takes my silence as affirmation.
He exhales. “Listen, Cavas. There is something about Latif that you need to know. He’s a—”
“—a living specter. I know,” I say in a tired voice as Govind’s face tightens with shock. “I understand why I can see him and others can’t.”
“Then you must also know that his spirit is bound to this world out of a single, desperate wish,” Govind says flatly. “Latif was executed by the Ambarnaresh for treason, Cavas. After he died, he came to meet me. I didn’t see him, but I heard his voice. I knew he had turned into a specter. He wanted me to join him in his quest to dethrone Raja Lohar and to restore Ambar to its former glory, by installing a better ruler in his place. When I refused, we fought terribly. He called me a traitor. I told him I still had a mate and children to take care of. Latif will not rest until his wish is fulfilled, even if you are destroyed in the process.”
So that explains a few things. “What did Latif do that was so treasonous? Why should I stop seeing him?” If Papa won’t tell me this, then perhaps Govind will.
But the stable master simply shakes his head, his brown skin turning ashy. “I can’t tell you. Not here. Not now.”
“Then you have no right to tell me what to do.” I’ve never been rude to Govind before, but the events of the past two weeks are finally taking their toll. “I’m tired of you and Latif bossing me around, pulling at the strings you both seem to think I’m attached to.”
“I could stop you,” Govind threatens. “I could report you to the Ambarnaresh.”
Two weeks ago, I might have frozen at his words, perhaps even apologized. But today I feel nothing except a vague sort of sadness. “If you wanted to give me up to the king, you would have done so ages ago. But you haven’t. If you get me into trouble, I can do the same to you. I can tell Raja Lohar that you were the one who introduced me to Latif, that you were the one who gave me the green swarna.”
Govind doesn’t answer. Whatever emotion I saw on his face has disappeared again under a blank mask. “Get to work, boy. Rajkumari Malti will be here soon.”
* * *
The rajkumari, however, does not appear, and a few moments later, Govind sends me to inquire if she has been delayed. I walk toward the garden, where the princess usually plays when not riding, when a pair of voices give me pause.
“I told you, I don’t know how she crossed the rekha!” Malti’s voice is high, irritable. “Unhand me! I want to go ride my pony.”
“Don’t be foolish, little girl.” A chill skitters down my spine. It’s the woman who was talking to Major Shayla in the Walled City. The one who killed General Tahmasp. “If you let Siya past the barrier with your token, it’s imperative that you tell me about it now.”
“Let go! You’re hurting me!” Now, Malti sounds terrified, and it’s that, more than anything else, that breaks me out of my own frozen state.
“Rajkumari?” I shout. “Rajkumari
Malti, is that you?”
“Cavas! Over here!”
I turn the bend and find Malti standing next to a tall Sky Warrior. A terrified serving girl stands a few steps away, a bruise blooming on her cheek. The Sky Warrior glares at me, her gray eyes flashing contemptuously. “Leave us,” she commands.
“Apologies … Captain,” I say, spotting a single red atashban embroidered on her uniform. “But it’s time for the rajkumari’s morning ride.”
The Sky Warrior sneers at me. “The rajkumari will not be riding today.”
“Does Rani Amba know?” My voice is so calm I can hardly believe it belongs to me. “I don’t want any trouble later in the day when she asks about the lesson and the princess’s progress. I think I should go and confirm with—”
“Stop!” A tic goes off in the side of the captain’s face. She grits her teeth. “Go, then! I will make my inquiries later.”
You will pay for your boldness, her tone suggests. I can tell from the look in those gray eyes. Her inquiries will involve me as well. Malti races to me, relief etched over her little face. The serving girl hurries behind, not even bothering to scold the princess for running the way she normally would.
“Are you all right, Rajkumari Malti?” I ask quietly when the captain is out of earshot.
“She was asking me questions about Siya. All sorts of things.” The little girl grimaces. “She thinks I gave my token to Siya and let her cross the rekha. But I didn’t! I swear I didn’t, Cavas!”
“I know you didn’t,” I tell her reassuringly. My stomach, already uneasy from my conversation with Govind, lurches again. I help the princess onto Dhoop and begin walking down our usual route, the serving girl trailing behind.
“I will complain to Rani Ma about this,” Malti continues, her voice trembling. “That Sky Warrior should be punished for hurting me. Imprisoned at the very least!”
I say nothing. I don’t want Malti to see how disturbed I am by the captain’s brazen questioning. In the five years I’ve worked at the palace, I’ve never seen members of the king’s most elite force treat the royals with anything other than deference. I wonder if General Tahmasp’s death has emboldened the captain—and the thought does not sit well with me.
“Cavas?” Malti’s voice is soft. Her eyes widen ever so slightly, and I realize she wants to tell me something in private. I glance back, but the serving girl, now separated from imminent danger, appears more concerned about her bruise, examining her face in a puddle on the ground.
“What is it, Rajkumari Malti?”
“You like Siya, don’t you?”
My jaw tightens. “I can’t say I dislike her.”
“Does it matter to you if she lives or dies?”
I glance up sharply. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I overheard my brothers Sonar and Jagat talking to the palace vaid about how they met Siya for the first time,” the little girl says quietly. “They say that she fought them with death magic, that she was so strong she might have killed them if Rani Ma hadn’t interfered. The vaid said he could test Siya’s magic by cutting her up and drawing her blood out in little vials. He did that to me when I was three, before he gave me these.” Malti points to the anklets she always wears. “Sonar wants to bind with Siya, but I know he wants to find out more about her magic as well. I … I’m afraid for her, Cavas.”
There’s a long pause. “Rajkumari, I don’t know what I can—”
“You can help her,” she interrupts. “You’re her friend, aren’t you?”
Warmth floods my face. I glance up at the sky, pretending to check the clouds. “Looks like a storm’s coming. We’d better end the ride now, before you get soaked.”
Malti’s mouth trembles, but she does not argue when I change course and lead her back to the stable, ignoring the serving girl’s annoyed questions.
* * *
Time passes quickly when you’re troubled. As a boy, whenever my problems got too overwhelming for me, I buried myself in work. This is what I do now, feeding horses, cleaning stalls, moving the feed, sawdust, and hay. By the time I look up again, most of the stable boys are gone. Sunheri has gone dark as well, the first day of a new moon cycle.
“Lock up,” Govind tells me. “Give the key to the night guard.”
He pauses for a moment, and I think he’s going to say something else. But Govind simply frowns and leaves without another word. I continue working, washing out the trough—my final duty of the day. Even the sound of anklets rustling behind me doesn’t give me pause, and it’s not until a hand lightly brushes my shoulder that I finally turn with a start.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
The sight of Gul, still in the ghagra-choli she was wearing that morning, different only for the coarse blanket covering the top of her head and shoulders, nearly makes me forget that I’ve been trying to avoid her. Nearly.
“I told you before. I need to talk to you.” The faint light of the overhead fanas outlines the angles of her thin face, glows in her wide eyes. “I don’t have much time. Someone might discover that I’m gone and come looking for me again.”
“Then you should leave,” I say coldly. “We have nothing to say to each other, Siya ji.”
“Will you stop calling me that?” she says angrily. “Listen, Cavas. You need to get out of here. Tonight, if possible.”
Something about her tone slides like a hook under my skin, scatters my already unsteady heartbeat. “What for?”
“People have noticed us. Together. You can’t stay here if I end up finally doing what I came here to do. You’ll be in danger.”
I struggle to remember Latif’s and Malti’s warnings again, but they fade away at the sight of Gul’s face: perfectly royal except for the gold that will dust her cheeks once she binds with Sonar. She won her freedom at the cage, a voice in my head reminds me. She’s safe. What can you give her except a lifetime of hiding and misery?
“You can still be a princess, Gul,” I force myself to say. “I’m not going to tell the yuvraj about a few kisses.”
“What in Svapnalok—I didn’t come to the palace to get bound! You know that!”
I don’t know anything anymore, I think bitterly.
The silence that falls between us might have lasted for a second, perhaps even a day.
“I came here for one reason and one reason alone,” she says, a slight tremor entering her voice. “That hasn’t changed. But I can’t do it while you’re here. If something goes wrong, they’ll find and punish you, Cavas. Maybe even your father. I won’t ever be able to forgive myself if that happens.”
“Why? I’m not important to you. I have nothing to do with your mission!”
“Maybe you weren’t important at first. But things have changed since then.”
“Oh really? What has changed?” I demand.
My question hangs in the air, makes her shrink back slightly.
“In Chand Mahal, the living specter said we need to stick together,” she says after a pause. “It … I feel that’s important.”
There’s a sour taste at the back of my mouth. Specters and prophecies and missions. Why did I expect any more from the fabled Star Warrior?
“Or perhaps there was no reason at all,” I say. “It doesn’t matter. I enlisted for the army yesterday. I’ll be gone soon enough.”
Gul’s mouth tightens. “The army. I see. Cavas, I hope you haven’t given them a thumbprint or anything of that sort. It’s the worst thing you possibly could have done.”
This warning is even more jarring than her earlier one about my being in danger. “Worry about yourself, Siya ji,” I spit out. “It shouldn’t matter to you whether I live or die.”
Heat bursts out of her hands, magic that glows orange, hitting me in the chest with the force of a blow. I bite back a cry even though pain laces through my ribs, nearly making me fall backward.
“You’re right. It shouldn’t matter to me. But, for some reason, it does. If there’s a choice between sav
ing your life and taking the king’s, goddess knows I will always choose to save yours.”
A ringing silence. I still feel the heat of her magic, her anger vibrating in the air.
“But you don’t want to hear that, do you? You don’t want to believe in the possibility of anything except hate between a magus and a non-magus. Well, you’ll get your wish. This is the last you’ll ever hear from me.”
THE STAR WARRIOR
33
GUL
The next morning, Yukta Didi comes to see me after breakfast.
“You look sallow,” she says critically. “And your eyes are puffy.” I’m wondering if she’s going to interrogate me about what happened last night, but she claps her hands, calling forth a serving girl into the room.
“Raja Lohar wishes to see you,” Yukta Didi tells me. “Alone.”
“Now?” The bajra puri and potatoes I downed earlier threaten to make a reappearance. “What does he—”
But Yukta Didi is already talking to my attendant. “Get her into something that complements her hair and those eyes. No, not yellow! Yes, the pink is perfect.”
I step behind the dressing screen and put on a loose, flowing pink blouse tied with crisscross strings at the back and a dusty-pink ghagra embroidered with roses in pale-gold thread. This isn’t the Ambari rose, which is Queen Amba’s signature, but the common rose found all over Svapnalok.
“Come on,” Yukta Didi says. “We haven’t got all day.”
“Only another moment, Didi,” I call out. Underneath the petticoat, I carefully adjust the daggers strapped to my thighs.
While my attendant braids my hair, weaving gold beads and chameli flowers into it, I hold on to my emotions, suffocating them in a relentless grip. It will not do to get weepy now. Especially since this outfit weighs at least twice as much as the blue ghagra I wore yesterday. Not exactly the best to run or fight in. Which is probably why they’re making me wear it.
Hunted by the Sky Page 27
