“So you pose as—as what? A bookshop delivery boy with a rich father?”
“Marinda.” The way he says my name—halfway between a plea and a rebuke—almost does me in. It’s tender and familiar and not at all the way he would speak to me if he knew the truth—that there aren’t dozens of vish kanya, like he thinks. Only me. I press my fingers to my temples. A headache is building behind my eyes, and my stomach feels unsettled. I need to get to Mani. My chest aches with it.
“You could help us,” Deven says. “It’s why I agreed to bring you here. You could help us take them down. You’ve lived with them. You have information we won’t be able to get anywhere else.”
Nothing would make me happier than to see the Naga suffer, but I have a thousand questions and not enough answers.
“Were you here?” I ask. Deven raises his eyebrows in a question. “Last week you disappeared for several days. Were you here?”
“Yes,” he says.
“So Iyla knows who you are?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “She doesn’t. Why would you say that?”
“She knew you were gone. She said I wouldn’t be able to find you.”
His brow furrows and he chews his lip thoughtfully. “She must have been guessing. She only knows I’ve been working to stop the Naga. Not who I am.”
I’m not so sure about that. I remember what Iyla told me when Gopal gave her the assignment—that the target was someone important, someone big. Who is bigger than the prince of Sundari? But it doesn’t matter now. All that matters is finding Mani.
“Did Japa know?” I ask after a moment. A pained look crosses Deven’s face that makes me wish I hadn’t said anything. It’s a wound too raw.
“No,” Deven says, his voice cracking. “He didn’t.”
“He disappeared too,” I say. “During the same few days as you.”
He gives a tight laugh. “Were you keeping track of everyone?”
“No. I just…” My face heats as I remember why I was looking for both of them that day. To poison Deven, to protect him. “Forget it.” I reach into my pocket and stroke the cricket there.
“Japa thought I worked at the palace, but he didn’t know I was the prince. He often traveled to help pass information for us. Books are perfect for disguising messages.”
“Oh.” Japa feels like a presence in the room, as if saying his name has summoned his essence. My chest feels tight as I think of his easy smile and kind face. Deven and I sit quietly for a few minutes, lost in thought.
Then Deven looks sidelong at me. “What do you have there?”
I’m pulled out of my reverie by the question and look up, disoriented. “What?”
“Every time you’re anxious, you reach into your pocket. What are you keeping in there?” My cheeks flame. Why does he have to notice everything? I can’t say the words, and so I pull the cricket out and show him. He tilts his head to the side. When he speaks, his voice is soft. “You kept it.”
I shove the cricket back into my pocket. “Of course I kept it.”
He reaches forward and brushes a lock of hair out of my face. I stop breathing. His lips are only inches from mine; I could lean forward and kiss him without fear of him dying. I wonder what it would be like to kiss him slowly, sweetly. To linger. To run my fingers through his hair. His eyes are bright and his cheeks are flushed. He hasn’t moved his gaze from my face, and my heart is beating as fast as hummingbird wings.
The double doors open and we fly apart. It feels like coming up from underwater and I suck in a sharp breath. The Raja strides into the room, and as soon as I see him, my anticipation drains away. I killed his son. Deven’s brother. I will never be able to kiss Deven, immune or not.
Following the Raja are a spindly man with silver hair, who I assume is Hitesh, and a serving girl carrying a tray of tea. Both Deven and I stand. The girl slides the tea onto a round table surrounded by sapphire-colored chairs.
“Will there be anything else, Your Highness?” she asks.
The Raja smiles. “No. That’s all. Thank you.”
The maid bows and slips out of the room. Two guards enter and stand on either side of the doors. They are dressed in red and black, just like the guards outside the palace, and they both have the same faraway gaze; they stare straight ahead at the wall on the opposite side of the room as if there were nothing to see but that.
“Come,” the Raja says, motioning for us to join him at the table. “Sit.” He makes quick introductions, but I fidget impatiently. I don’t care who Hitesh is and I doubt he cares about meeting me. I just want to find Mani.
“Hitesh has been tracking the Naga for many years,” the Raja says. “He knows more about them than anyone else outside their circle.”
“Do you know where they might have taken my brother?” I ask.