“For vengeance. To retaliate for some wrong,” she said. She looked at Aasha. “Am I correct?”
Aasha nodded. “They say he kidnapped the Lady Kauveri’s sister and forced her into marriage. It wouldn’t be the first time that a demon naga would do such a thing.”
“Is he a demon?” asked Vikram.
“He’s a descendant of the cruelest of all the demon nagas. Kaliya.”
Gauri’s expression darkened. “How do we get his venom?”
“I’m not sure,” Aasha admitted. “But first you have to get access to his kingdom. There is a pool on the far side of the orchard that bears his crest and invitation.”
If her sisters were here, they would have told her that she had done all she needed to and dragged her home. But Aasha lingered. The moment she returned, her world would fall back into its ordered chaos. She would keep her elbows tucked at her side when she walked so that nothing living brushed against her skin. Night after night, she would unspool a person’s desire, slaking her hunger and trying to forget that the moment the beings left her arms, they would touch someone they loved, place food upon their tongue that would keep flavor and never turn to ash, maybe even sink their hands into the dirt simply because they could. Not yet. Not yet.
“I can take you?” she offered.
23
THE SERPENT KING’S INVITATION
GAURI
Aasha unnerved me. She stood too close. In war, the bulk of a soldier proved its own quiet threat. But Aasha wasn’t taking up space to show that her presence was deadly. She stood and leaned toward us with a keen-eyed want. Not hunger. Not lust. I had seen both in the eyes of a vishakanya. This was something else. I didn’t trust her want, whatever it was.
Before I could tell her no, Vikram drew me away.
“If you’re going to tell me to trust her, this is a good time to remind you that you were knocked unconscious by her while we were nearly killed by her sisters.”
“I’m not contesting that.”
“Then why did you pull me aside?” I asked. “We can find this pool ourselves. She offered information in return for mercy. We’ve both kept our word. The end.”
“Maybe she could be of more help,” he said. “She knows this place far better than we do. And she wants something. Can’t you see it in her eyes?”
“I can, which is why I don’t think she should be trusted. What if she’s just hungry?” I pointed at the two of us. “She can’t help but want to touch us. And if she does that, we die.”
“I can’t help being irresistible.”
“A raksha didn’t even think you were worth ten goats and a cow.”
He scowled. “Leading us to a pool doesn’t place us in her immortal debt, Gauri. Sometime it’s more efficient to trust people and ask for help.”
“That sounds wonderfully efficient until the day you find a knife pressed against your throat.”
“Have some faith.”
“Between faith and distrust, which one is more likely to keep you alive?”
“And which one is more likely to let you experience living?”
I threw up my hands. “Why is everything so philosophical with you?”
He shrugged. “I like thinking.”
“After she gets us to the Serpent King, that’s it. We wish her well. The end.”
Aasha was waiting for us when we returned. As we walked to her, the sunlight caught the underside of the leaves, illuminating her features into such heartbreaking loveliness that I found it hard to believe any man would welcome her into his bed without suspicion. But then I remembered the dumbstruck look on Vikram’s face when he first saw Aasha. I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel a flicker of envy. But envy did not make one lovelier. Mother Dhina had taught me that. Beauty, coveted though it was, could not outlive you. Only actions would. I never forgot that. In the harem, I might’ve disliked some girls for the ugliness in their hearts, but never for the beauty of their faces.
Aasha led us back through the courtyards. I expected strange glances like the ones from yesterday, but the Otherworld was too preoccupied in its own tasks. A horse with a translucent belly trotted past us. Between its ribs, pinpricks of light winked around a miniature alabaster city. The ground shuddered as a bull-aspect raksha dug a hole with its horns. Beside him, disembodied hands torn off at the wrists reached into the hole, tossing out dirt and carrying clumpy roots. The three feast tables from yesterday had nestled closer to the ground, their wooden legs tucked beneath them as if they were resting. The magic of Alaka felt tame. Even the air carried no fragrant seduction. No childhood memories nuzzled the back of my thoughts or tried to lull my heart from racing. All I could smell was damp, upturned earth and a trace of fruit on the wind.
When we left the feast tables, a hidden grove sprang into view. Dazzling trees sprawled in every direction, their limbs tall and spindly, reaching into the sky as if to etch their names onto the world. There were trees of gold and trees of bone. Trees where instruments swayed gently like musical fruit. Trees where letters were pinned to the trunk, scrawled in handwriting too distant to decipher.
I looked behind us, checking the perimeter for any sign of the Nameless. If they knew we had any clue where to find the Serpent King, they might have been spying on us. Or plotting something worse.
“What do you know about the Nameless?” I asked.
Aasha frowned. “I do not know of them. Then again, this is my first and last Tournament of Wishes. I am only newly one hundred.”
“I hope to age half as well,” said Vikram.
“Do they not live as long in the mortal lands?” asked Aasha.
“Well, not as long as that,” I said. “Half the children of Bharata have no names because they have not lived long enough to prove that they can carry it well into adulthood.”
“So you are very old then?”
I laughed. “I guess. I’m eighteen.”
“A child,” breathed Aasha, her eyes widening in wonder. “And your mate?”
The tops of Vikram’s ears turned red. “Eighteen.”
I immediately tried changing the subject. “I don’t understand why Lord Kubera would even invite the Serpent King to the Tournament if the Lady Kauveri hates him so much.”
Aasha only shrugged. “Any Otherworld being who played in a previous Tournament is always invited to play in the next game. Most of the Otherworld is invited, but some choose not to come because they know their presence will only inspire fear. The Lord of Treasures even invites the Dharma Raja and the Queen of Light. Can you imagine what would happen if they came?” She shuddered. “Nothing but chaos. Although I heard they sent a gift since they would not attend.”
We walked in silence as Aasha stepped expertly around the strange groves. In the distance, water smoothed over rocks. Frost hung in the air, and a fine mist spilled over the tree roots.
“What do you eat?” asked Aasha suddenly. The question broke from her as if she could no longer fight the strength of it.
I eyed her. What if she wasn’t staying close because she was angling to feed our desires or hurt us? What if she was just … curious?