“Do you know where he was?”
“That’s the thing I was trying to tell you, maybe-queen!” exclaimed Kamala, pawing at the ground. “He was at the Chakara Forest. You were right.”
I was right. There was a soft glow of warmth in that knowledge, even if knowing that I had just missed him rent through me like a new wound. I had trusted my instinct and it had been right. I could have reveled in her words if they didn’t make me furious.
Kamala sighed. “But there is something else.”
“What?”
“He left something in his stead.”
“In the same place?”
“Yes.”
“What did he leave behind?”
“I don’t know. My own senses do not tell me such things. Though that would be a great help. I wouldn’t have to lie in wait, hiding behind bushes and hoping some unsuspecting stupid person would wander past me. They might even wear such signs on their heads proclaiming, ‘Eat me!’ and such a thing would be—”
“Is the thing moving?”
“Yes, yes, but only in the area. I think it is dormant. It is waiting, I suspect, for something.”
“How do you know?”
“Oh silly Rani, silly sadhvi, I have had so much experience with death. I know that it is waiting. It is waiting for the soft thud of freshly culled souls. It is waiting to paint its lips red with blood. It is waiting to crunch bones and wear them like clattering raiment and robes.”
“Does that mean the Dharma Raja will return to the spot?”
“Yes.”
“How long does death usually wait?”
“Eons and blinks.”
I couldn’t abandon Gauri. Not now. Not when I had come so close to seeing her for the first time in weeks. I had to move quickly.
“Tell me the moment the Dharma Raja’s representatives seem to move. Or do anything. Can you do that?”
“I can, I have, I shall, I will,” sang Kamala.
“Good.”
I tugged her reins, about to lead her to the palace temple when I heard a soft jumping sound behind me and felt the pointed edge of a dagger at my neck.
“Stop where you are, imposter.”
I stopped.
Kamala bent her head to me. “Surely I can eat that one.”
“No,” I hissed.
“No? You won’t stop?” said the voice, laughing. Gauri.
“I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to the horse.”
Kamala snorted indignantly.
“I heard you talking to my brother.”
“So what?”
“I know exactly what you plan to do and I won’t allow it.”
This time, I turned around and faced her. Gauri was a full head taller than me. Strange that she used to run to me, wrapping her arms around my waist in a hug. I fought the urge to throw my arms around her. There was murder in her eyes, a calculating gaze no doubt caused by a quick and sudden immersion in court politics. And she had a military background to add to that. Smart girl. The moment I held her gaze, she paused, lips parted for just a moment before she looked away.
Had she recognized me? I wanted her to. I wanted her to see who I really was beneath the saffron robes, torn hair and ash-covered skin. But she shook her head, as if ridding herself of a momentary lapse, and refocused her dagger at my throat.
“You heard what I said to your brother. That means nothing in Bharata.”
A smile quirked on Gauri’s face.
“You don’t strike me as a charlatan,” she said.
Her tone, a questioning lilt, slammed me back through memory. In a blink, we were back in the Bharata I remembered, the capitol carpeted with lush trees and heavy with the perfume of wind-fallen fruit. And Gauri was once again the hesitant, soft-voiced eight-year-old who asked what we would be in her next life. Twin stars? Makaras with tails long enough to wrap around the world? I swallowed the lump in my throat, tamping down the memory like a dead fire.
“And you don’t strike me as a murderer,” I said, flicking aside the point of her dagger. “I want to help you.”
Gauri looked taken aback. A familiar rosiness spread across her cheeks.
“Why would you do that? What did you really come here for?”
I hadn’t known until now, but I saw it, felt it. I came here for her. Because it didn’t matter whether I had lived in another realm for years that I thought were mere days. It didn’t matter that I had tasted fairy fruit, fallen in love and broken a heart. Some bonds were impervious to all manner of experience. And the truth was that, no matter what happened, we were sisters.
“I came here because I’ve known about the villagers’ concerns for some time. I once lived in Bharata,” I said. “It is my home, and like anyone else I want to see that it will be safe. Loved. Cared for. The citizens prefer you far more than they do the current raja—”
“Careful, sadhvi, what you’re saying reeks of treason—”
“People always have their favorites,” I said calmly. I hated myself for even encouraging her to leave this place, to risk her life when I knew that I couldn’t protect her. But there were worse things that could happen to her if she stayed. She would be a prisoner. She would never get the chance to make her own choice. And if there was anything I could give her, some parting present for never being there when she grew up … it was that. A choice.
“What I’m suggesting would help you as much as it would help him. You could go and reclaim those lost soldiers. Boost morale. Do you really think you can do it?”
Gauri nodded, her eyes shining. “I know I can.”
Tears burned behind my eyes. Come back safe.
“And will you go alone?”
Gauri nodded again. “It is safer that way, not to risk anyone’s lives. And I know where they’re being kept. I’ve received word.”
She fell silent, her gaze distant and eyes fixed on a shaded area sequestered in a copse of once-bright lime trees. I knew that place … it was a rendezvous for lovers.
“The person you received word from,” I said after a while. “You love one of them, don’t you?”
Gauri started, a protest on the tip of her lips.
“I…,” she began before weakly trailing off. She quickly regained composure and her eyes narrowed. “That’s none of your concern.”
You are my concern, I wanted to say. You are my sister. But I said nothing. I just let her words hang in the air.
“The best motivation is love,” I offered.
Beside me, Kamala nodded vigorously. “And food!”
Gauri’s eyes widened. Like a ghost of sound laid atop the other, I heard what Gauri did—a sort of mangled neighing.
“Your horse is rather strange.”
Kamala nodded again.
“So what’s your plan, sadhvi? I heard what you said to my brother. If your grand design is announcing that I should go, he’ll never let you leave alive. He’ll call you crazy and denounce you. Trust me. I’ve been around long enough to witness how he handles dissent.”
“Then we won’t give him the chance. You will leave as soon as our meeting concludes. Right under his nose. And when you return, you will praise him.”
Gauri balked. “Praise him? He did nothing!”
“You would do well to learn how to play the games of court,” I said. “Sometimes an illusion is just as good as the actual thing. The difference lies in the telling. Make this one concession. Find out what happens next. If you bring back these soldiers and word gets out that it was your idea and your escape, he may punish them on your behalf.”
Gauri considered me. “What are you?”
“A maybe-false-queen!” butted in Kamala.
It must have come out as another deranged horse whinny because Gauri nearly jumped.
“I told you,” I said, not meeting her gaze. “I’m a person who lived here once upon a time.”
“You know far too much about the political schemes of Bharata.”
“My father was a diplomat.”
“No, he wasn’t! No, he wasn’t!” sang Kamala. “Lies are fun. Lies are nice. They taste like rice soaked in milk and sliced and diced with cardamom and—”
“Is your horse ill?” asked Gauri.
“No, not at all,” I said and smacked Kamala on her flank. “She’s eager.”
“For blood,” said Kamala.