As briefly as possible, Kyra recounted the events that had taken place after Shirin Mam’s death, and the strange things she had seen behind the doors of the secret Hub.
Shirin Mam listened with every outward show of patience and attentiveness, but Kyra sensed that she was not interested in much of what she had to say.
“I am with the Order of Khur now,” she finished, “and Rustan is teaching—oh, not exactly teaching, more practicing with me—anyway, he’s helping me get ready for the duel with Tamsyn. She was so angry that I got away with your blade, Mother, I’m sure she’ll be happy for a chance to kill me in full view of the Sikandra Fort assembly.”
“Rustan? Is that the name of the Marksman who is teaching you?” said Shirin Mam idly, seemingly unconcerned about the possibility of her pupil dying at the hands of her bloodthirsty rival.
“Yes,” said Kyra impatiently. “And he’s quite annoying. But what about the duel, do you have any advice for me? I don’t want to die.”
“There are worse things than dying,” said Shirin Mam. “Death is just another door to walk through.”
Kyra swallowed. For a while, she’d almost forgotten that Shirin Mam was dead. She cleared her throat. “Still, I’d rather live, at least until I have fulfilled my vow. Is there any way I can defeat Tamsyn?”
“If you can conquer yourself, you can conquer anyone,” said Shirin Mam. “That’s the best advice I can give you. Also, beware of Anant-kal. We are not the only ones who walk here.”
Kyra remembered the flash of gray she had seen. “Who . . . ?” she began, but Shirin Mam interrupted her:
“One last thing.”
Kyra leaned forward. “Yes?”
“Give my katari to this Rustan before you go to Sikandra.”
“What?” Kyra stared at Shirin Mam in consternation. “Why should I give it to him?”
“It is no longer your burden,” said Shirin Mam. “And he will have need of it.”
“But if I give him your katari, I won’t be able to talk to you anymore,” said Kyra, striving to stay calm. The Mahimata’s blade was the only link she had with her teacher. She had no right to it, but the thought of giving it up filled her with dismay.
Shirin Mam smiled. “You’ll be able to talk to me as long as you remember what I have taught you,” she said. She turned and the hall became dimmer, as if daylight was slipping away outside the windows.
“Wait,” cried Kyra, desperate. “What about what I saw in the Hub? Was that you behind the second door? What did it mean?”
Shirin Mam walked away, fading with the light. “Ask Felda,” she said, her voice distant, as if it came from another world. “She knows far more about Transport than I ever did.”
“Shirin Mam!” shouted Kyra. “What do you know about my mother and Kai Tau?”
But the hall was empty and Kyra was alone. She could have screamed with frustration. The walls around her began to dissolve, and the light went out of the world.
Chapter 20
The Hand of Kali
It was a golden late-summer day, the kind that made Nineth wish the warm season would last all year long. If Kyra were here, they would have gone riding every spare moment that they had.
No, don’t think of Kyra. Not with Tamsyn standing right in front of you. Nineth emptied her mind and tried to focus on the lesson. Tried not to think about the disastrous events of yesterday, and what punishment Tamsyn might have in store for her.
Nineth hadn’t planned on running away. Some half-formed idea of following Kyra’s footsteps had taken hold of her; she’d gone to the horse enclosure and saddled Rinna. The worst of it was that she hadn’t even left the enclosure before Baliya arrived and made her dismount. Nineth had felt like a complete fool.
Baliya would have reported her to Tamsyn right away. The longer Tamsyn made her wait for the penance, the worse Nineth felt.
They stood in a meadow not far from the caves. Chintil was testing them, and Tamsyn had stopped by to observe the class. She seemed to think they were lagging behind in Hatha-kala somehow, especially the apprentices.
“Noor Sialbi,” barked Chintil. “Name the twelve hands of Hatha-kala.”
“Single Katari, Double Katari, Spear, Sword, Short Stick, Long Stick, Empty Hands, Tiger Prowl, Monkkat Dance, Breaking Bones, Vital Points, and Inner Strength,” recited the small, round Markswoman.
Nineth, standing just behind her, groaned inwardly. Why couldn’t she have gotten such a simple question that even a novice could have answered? But no, Chintil would see to it that Nineth got the most difficult question of all. After all, Tamsyn was watching.
Sure enough, the tall, strapping elder turned to her and said, “Nineth Dan, what are the five different kinds of vital points?”
That wasn’t fair! Only Markswomen learned about the pressure points of the human body. Nineth racked her brain for what she could remember about the subject. “Skin, bones, nerves, joints, and . . . blood vessels.”
“Correct,” said Chintil, sounding both surprised and pleased.
Nineth sagged with relief as the elder turned her attention to another Markswoman. Thank the Goddess for Elena and her erudite discussions on the human body. But Tamsyn fixed an icy glare on her, and Nineth’s feeling of relief evaporated. Soon, that glare seemed to say. Soon you will learn the penalty for defying your Mahimata.
Chintil’s stentorian voice broke into her thoughts:
“Sheathe your blades and fall into pairs for Empty Hands practice. You may choose whatever stance and technique you wish. Your goal will be to throw your opponent, nothing more.”
There was a general stirring and to Nineth’s dismay, she found herself paired off with the loathsome Akassa.
Akassa dropped into the Elephant pose, a basic defense posture. Nineth eyed her warily before moving into Charging Boar, a simple yet effective hand-and-foot combination that could destabilize any opponent.
But Nineth stumbled in mid-kick and cried out with pain. Something had slashed her left shin. She saw the telltale glimpse of a bright blade before it disappeared up Akassa’s sleeve. She hadn’t sheathed her blade. The cheat! Nineth felt a surge of anger and, ignoring the pain in her left leg, stepped forward with her right foot, pivoted, and grabbed Akassa’s back under the arms.
The smug look disappeared from Akassa’s face as she tried and failed to counter the unexpected rear throw. Nineth flung her flat on the ground and rose, dusting her hands.
“Well done, Nineth,” commented Chintil as she passed the pair.
Tamsyn pursed her lips in a thin line. “But not to be tried except as a last resort. Such a move is easily countered. Akassa, next time step to the side and answer with a reverse hip throw. Perhaps we elders can demonstrate, Chintil?”
“What?” said Chintil, clearly thrown off-balance. She stared at Tamysn for a moment, pursing her lips. “Well, all right.”
Tamsyn stepped forward. “Please make the move that Nineth did.”