Nalini arrived the day I turned thirteen years old. Immediately upon arriving, she tried to set fire to the harem and escape. Her name was on everyone’s lips, which meant that everyone forgot about me. I disliked her instantly.
The week after, I tried to get my revenge. Skanda was holding a celebration along the waterfront. The women walked in pairs, shielded by an ivory screen that broke our view of the world outside the harem. Nalini defiantly walked by the water’s edge, her chin held high and gaze fixed ahead. I stuck my foot out when she walked past. She stumbled, lost her balance and fell with a loud splash into the water. It was meant to be a prank. But when she didn’t come up for air, I panicked. And so, amid all the shouting of Bharata’s citizens and the thin screams of the harem wives—and in full view of Skanda—I leapt in after her and pulled her back to the surface.
“I thought you could swim,” I gasped, coughing up water.
Nalini hissed a stream of curses, but no one heard over the villagers’ loud proclamations:
“The Princess Gauri is a hero!”
“Praise her! Praise her!”
“See how she saved the savage princess’s life!”
Eventually, Nalini and I would become as close as sisters, but it would be years before I realized how that day became the beginning of a story that would trap me for the rest of my life. Skanda was the one who made sure everyone called me a hero. He retold the story of how I dove in after Nalini so often that it muddled people’s memories, until it became a different tale altogether. Being called a savior shamed me. I had done something petty and had been rewarded for it. It wasn’t right. I should have told the truth. Maybe things would have been different.
A muffled sound caught my attention. I stood, flattening myself against the wall. A quiet shuffling sound followed. Someone fumbling with keys. The door swung open gently and the Prince stood over the threshold.
“Ready?” he asked.
I nodded, stepping outside and over the sleeping forms of the drugged guards. The moment I left the room behind, I felt as though the world had been waiting. The air pinched and shifted around us. Agitated and restless. Midnight had divested itself of stars. Not a single light fell on us as we ran through stone archways to the warm musk of the stables. Not a single sound rustled in our shadows as we untethered two horses and clattered out of the palace. Not a single echo of breath lit up our escape. It was as if we’d slid into the lost moment before sleep.
We rode until dawn smudged scorched clouds across the world. The horses shone with sweat. By then, whatever magic had let us escape into the night had lifted. Birds screeched. A thousand insect wings stabbed the air. My stomach groaned. Being a palace prisoner was more coddling than I thought. At least I was fed on time.
I eyed the Fox. He was almost irritatingly vulnerable. He still wore no weapons belt. And yet he held himself as if he were invincibility made flesh. Before we left Ujijain, I’d checked the pack slung across my horse and found a pair of knives. They weren’t my customized weapons, but I’d still hidden one of them in the sleeves of my tunic. The Fox wore the ruby openly. It glinted from a shallow pocket on his tunic, ripe as fruit and begging to be plucked. So much for clever. Killing someone on a horse wasn’t difficult, but I didn’t want to spook the horse. Besides—
“What do I call you?” he asked, turning to me. I froze. “The ‘Jewel of Bharata’ just seems too modest, don’t you think?”
I hated that nickname. Skanda had ordered that the title be spoken at every festival.
“Call me Gauri.”
“How intimate.”
I glared. “Enjoy it, because that’s as intimate as this will ever get, Fox Prince.” Consider it a courtesy before I end you.
“I prefer Vikram,” he said, smiling as if I’d given away a secret.
We were still too close to Ujijain for me to kill him. Besides, I wanted to lead him closer to Bharata.
“Where are we going? You said we’d need access to a magical place first.”
“Ah. Yes.” He patted the pocket with the ruby, but didn’t bring it out. “I imagined the ruby would become something like a compass.”
“And?”
“My theory was incorrect.”
“So … you don’t know where we’re going?”
“I didn’t say that,” he said. “We’re going to the Chakara Forest. The legends always said that the Otherworlds were linked. If we find one entrance, we find the bridge to all of them.”
The words snipped at my heart. The Chakara Forest was the last place where I’d seen Maya. The night she disappeared, enchantment had cinched the world tight, drawing down the heavens and tempting me to grab a fistful of stars straight out of the sky. I pushed out the memory of Maya and focused on the advantage. The Chakara Forest was close to Bharata. I could kill him and sell the ruby in the markets by tomorrow.
I dug my heels into my horse. “Then let’s go. We can’t lose the light.”
The day wore on. I kept looking over my shoulder, waiting for a search party, but none followed. I wasn’t arrogant enough to assume that our departure was so stealthy and intelligent that it had stumped an entire kingdom. Some force of the Otherworld had snapped common sense and logic. It … wanted us. I snuck a glance above me, as if I’d see the soft underbelly of magic crouched over us like a beast closing in on its prey.
By evening, we had reached the outskirts of the forest. Even on the fringes, it seemed like a place touched by magic. The trees didn’t stay in one place. A silver pool spilled over inky roots that had slumbered in earth only a moment ago. Cold fingers slid down my spine. I felt the shadow of the forest like something that would cleave my life. If I stepped inside, the magic I was trying to avoid would swallow me whole.
Which meant I had to kill the Prince right here.
“We should get off the horses,” I said. “They might spook in the dark.”
He raised an eyebrow, but jumped off without comment. Soldier or no, there was something too shrewd in his gaze. I had to catch him off guard.
“I’ll secure the area first,” I said, moving away from him.
“Without a weapon?” he asked, leaning against a tree.
I stilled. I couldn’t give away that I already had one. I fake-rummaged through the pack and lifted the other knife. On closer inspection, I’d never seen a blade like this—it was sharp with a fine enough balance, but there was a strange bump on the hilt.
Poorly designed.
The Prince grinned, waving me away. I made a great show of moving into the forest, but I kept to the shadowy edges. I bided my time, waiting for the growing dark before I stalked him. I kept one arm over my mouth to hide my breathing and kept my steps to the soft, silent grass. The Prince had his back to me.
I lunged.
I grabbed him around the collar, pressing the knife to his throat right as he fell to his knees. I placed my heel at the instep of his foot, pinning him into place.
“Aren’t you going to ask if I have any last words?” he gasped.
“You just uttered them. Toss out the ruby.”
But he only smirked. “Anything for you, fair princess.”
He reached into his pocket and threw out … a piece of colored glass. A decoy.