The vanaras’ tails flicked.
“If it was a trial,” continued Vikram, “then we could talk reasonably. As civilized folk do. And then you can behead us.”
“Leave me out of this,” I said under my breath.
“Not a chance,” said Vikram.
The vanaras huddled together, tails whipping the air. The decision was on their faces.
“You will come with us and await judgment by our laws,” said the yellow one.
The knives disappeared. A second later, metal weighed down my neck and arms. Chains. Once more, I tried to shake the fruit from my bound hands. It wouldn’t leave. Worse, I felt as if I could taste it in my own blood. Vikram was thrown to my side, equally chained.
“I can’t believe you didn’t have a real weapon on hand,” I said.
“I have my mind,” he said. “You should thank me.”
I raised my chained hands. “I am bursting with gratitude.”
“We’re alive, aren’t we? And now I’ve found us an entry into the Otherworld,” he shot back. “No thanks to you.”
Resentment flickered inside me. Much as I hated to admit it, he had saved us. Then again, he’d also used the moment to get us into the Otherworld, which was the last place I wanted to visit. The vanaras tugged us forward and we fell into step, marching through the Chakara Forest.
“Did you steal that fruit?” I asked.
“Of course. I want nothing more than to steal apples. I’ve also always manifested the ability to travel through time, and at night I turn into a beast and only your kiss can break the—”
“I get it. That’s a no. But then where did that image come from?”
His brow furrowed. “I have no idea.”
The vanaras led us like cattle down a path of trees.
“Ignoring the indescribable stupidity of not bringing any useful weapons, you did keep us alive. Now just keep quiet.”
“Brilliant advice, Princess. Right up there with ‘Breathing is rather useful if you want to live.’”
“You should listen to me, Fox. Who’s the one with more experience at surviving as a prisoner?”
“And who’s the one who was never stupid enough to become a prisoner in the first place? At the moment, I’d say one of our opinions is more useful than the other.”
I glared. “If they don’t behead you, I will.”
“Where will this trial be held?” asked Vikram, ignoring me.
“At home,” grunted the largest vanara. “Must run some errands though. The Queen won’t want to return to an empty palace.”
“If she ever returns,” sighed one of them.
“She’ll come back! Curses aren’t made to be permanent. They like to be broken or they become resentful that everyone’s forgotten about them,” said another.
“I thought Kishkinda was in the Kalidas Mountains,” said Vikram.
“It is.”
Vikram frowned. Light stained the end of the tunnel, trailing silver ribbons across the compacted dirt floor. The Kalidas Mountains were more than a day’s trek from them.
“Mirror pools,” whispered the yellow vanara, turning over his shoulder. “Left behind by the war.”
“What war?” I asked.
But they didn’t answer. The vanaras led us through a cavern hidden behind a veil of twisted vines. Light flared from creases of rock. I squinted against the brightness until we emerged from the cavern and into a valley that sprawled vast as a kingdom. My heart stopped. Day and night tore the sky in two, each half grabbing greedy fistfuls of clouds from the other. Stars glistened above.
My breath caught. “We’re in the Night Bazaar.”
6
DREAM SEEDLINGS
VIKRAM
The ashram might have taught the princes numbers and letters, philosophy and diction, but Vikram knew something far more useful. He was raised on a bellyful of want—always kept at a distance, always in sight of everything he wanted and could never sink his teeth into—which only made him that much more attuned to seeing through words and straight to the desires. Know the value of the desire and the value of the deficiency. That was how he lived around his own wants.
First, he knew the apple was valuable to the vanaras. Yet the vanaras refused to hear anything about taking it back and letting them go on their way. And they refused to let it out of their sight. Vikram had tried bribing them. At one point, he offered Gauri’s hand in marriage, which earned him two sharp jabs in the ribs. For equality’s sake, he offered his own hand in marriage, but that ended all bargaining negotiations on the spot. Then again, even if the vanaras had agreed, it would have made no difference. The apple refused to leave Gauri’s hand.
Second, the vanaras had given away their greatest weakness without even realizing it: They felt adrift. Their queen had left them and they wanted her return. What if he combined them—the apple and the missing queen? If he spun the right tale, maybe it would be enough to bargain their freedom.
But the moment he stepped inside the Night Bazaar he forgot everything he knew.
Wonder sharpened his senses. The Night Bazaar was the pith of stories murmured in the dark, the seedling of dreams and the haunt of nightmares. And he was in it. He drank in the scent of the Night Bazaar. On the side of star-touched night, a plume of winter hung in the air—cold pears and banked embers, polished gems and kefir cream. On the side of rain-kissed day, a lace of fire spiraled through the air—overripe plums and ripped flowers, dusky berries and cold honey.
Seeing the Night Bazaar was a victory. All his life, Ujijain had treated him as an afterthought. A glorified case of pity. Stories were his solace, the one place where someone like him could become someone else. And now, staring at the Night Bazaar, he felt that his whole life had aligned. He breathed deeply, out of breath from the trek through the caverns. His legs ached from hours on horseback, and the heavy chains had already cut into his neck.
Beside him, Gauri looked distraught. Chivalry demanded that he should inquire after the Princess’s well-being. Then again, when the princess in question had tried to kill him and probably would try again the next chance she got, perhaps chivalry should be ignored. She caught him looking at her and frowned:
“You’re heaving like a water buffalo in its death throes.”
Never mind.
The vanaras dragged them through both sides of the Night Bazaar. No one paid them much attention. Vikram shuddered. Was it that normal to drag humans into the Otherworld?
“Can you imagine what they sell here?” he asked, venturing a glance at Gauri.
“Dreams,” she said hoarsely, not looking at him. “Or so I was told. At least, I hope it’s true.”