Deven pulls away and trails his fingers down my neck.
“I want a meeting with the Raja,” I tell him.
Deven’s eyes widen as if that was the last thing he ever expected me to say. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he starts. But he must see something in my expression, something where the fear used to be. “Okay,” he says. “When?”
I lay my head on his shoulder. “Soon,” I say. “Tomorrow.” But for tonight I just want to stay right here—curled up in Deven’s arms and basking in the feeling of being loved, of Mani being safe, of being free.
It’s likely the last bit of peace I’ll have for a long time.
This time when I enter the Raja’s throne room, I’m wearing Iyla’s cloak. I took it from her satchel months ago, when we first arrived at the blue cottage. If she noticed it was missing, she never said anything. I don’t know why I did it. Only that it felt like it belonged to me and I was tired of people taking the things that were mine.
Deven warned me that wearing it to the meeting with his father was a bad idea. He was right, of course. When the Raja sees me, his face goes white with rage.
“How dare you?” he says. His hands are fists at his sides. “You escape from my prison, undermine my plans to apprehend the Naga with a half-baked rescue effort, and then have the nerve to show up here wearing a cloak of scales?” He motions to the guards. “Put her in chains,” he says.
But Deven holds up a hand. “Stop,” he says. The guards hesitate and look uncertainly between father and son. “Hear her out, Father.”
The Raja’s mouth twists. “You will not defend her,” he says. “You know what the Naga are, what they do.”
“But Marinda is not—”
This time the Raja’s words are a roar. “You will. Not. Defend her!”
“You need me.” I say it softly, but the room falls silent and every head swivels in my direction. I lift the hood of the cloak and let it drop behind me. “If you’re going to take down the Naga, you need me.”
The Raja’s mouth pinches. A vein bulges at his temple, throbbing in time with his rapid heartbeat. But he doesn’t speak. I take his silence as an invitation.
“The Naga have taken everything from me,” I tell him. “They have robbed me of parents, of friends, of freedom. They have beaten me and tortured me and attempted to kill my brother.” I swallow. “They have turned me into a killer. I want what you want. I want to destroy the Naga.”
The Raja’s eyes narrow. “And yet”—he waves his hand in my direction—“you come to me dressed like this.”
“The Nagaraja gave me a gift,” I say. “If I don’t use it the way he intended, is it any less mine?”
The Raja temples his fingers under his chin and stares off into the distance. His breathing evens out, and when he turns back to me, his expression is drained of anger. His eyes are sharp, calculating. “What do you propose?”
Breath rushes out of me in a long exhale. The guards recede to their posts.
“I go back to the Naga,” I say. “I pretend loyalty and I pass you the information that you need.”
“You become my spy?”
“Yes,” I say. “For a price.”
The Raja bristles. “You haven’t earned the right to ask me for favors.”
“Fine,” I say, holding out my wrists. “Then throw me back in your dungeon. And best of luck finding another visha kanya willing to do your bidding.”
He narrows his eyes and holds my gaze. I refuse to look away. “What are your terms?”
“You protect Mani,” I say. “You allow him to live here at the palace and make sure no harm comes to him. You give me the training and the information I need to take down the Naga. And when they have been eliminated, you give me my freedom.”
“That is all?”
“Yes,” I say. “That is all.”
His brows lift. “You ask for so little.”
“My freedom is no small thing,” I tell him.
The Raja nods. “Indeed,” he says. He doesn’t speak for a long time, and I watch the emotions play across his face, watch him measure his hatred of me against the desire for an ally on the inside. In the end it’s not a difficult choice. Not for a man who loves his kingdom. “We have a deal,” he says. “But you would do well to remember that you are at my mercy.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” I say. “And you would do well to remember that you are at mine.”
I hear a sharp intake of breath from one of the guards. The Raja’s eyes flash, but he stays silent, and I feel as if I’ve won something, as if we finally understand each other. “What do you need?” he asks.
“For starters, I need to know where you are holding the Naga prisoners. And a key so I can free them.”
Two weeks later Gita and I arrive back at the girls’ home under cover of a purple darkness. The rest of the Naga have gone their separate ways—back to their posts to plot the destruction of the Pakshi, to find new targets for me to kill.