Revulsion scalds my mouth. Does Tarek’s damaging reach have no end? I assumed Natesa’s pride was impenetrable. She was orphaned at a young age and worked hard to rise above her loss. For her to believe she is unworthy of love bothers me a great deal.
“I told Yatin what Tarek said,” Natesa goes on, her attention locked in her memory. “Yatin said if anyone treated his sisters that way, he would gut them. I have never seen him more upset. He hurt on my behalf.” Her focus returns, hooked to the horizon. “Knowing he’s out there, imprisoned . . . I cannot stop worrying.”
Her anxiety rakes at my own. Deven is so close, yet our last moments together have pushed him far away. Perhaps the gods will return his good fortune now that we are apart. Some good has to come from how terribly I miss him.
I plaster on a smile for Natesa. “Yatin and Deven will look after one another.”
“And we’ll do the same for each other,” she says, extending her hand to me.
Jaya and I used to hold hands and squeeze them to say I love you. Natesa deserves to find happiness, but reaching for her would be a betrayal to Jaya. I am not ready to let Jaya go. I follow Natesa’s gaze outside and pretend not to see her outstretched fingers.
Two heartbeats later, she walks away.
After sleeping through the rest of the day, I wake in the night with an insatiable urge to draw. I light a candle and open the colorful inks. An hour later, I finish painting the peacock. The bird that is native to Vanhi was the most vibrant thing I could think of to draw. I would carry on, but my out-of-practice hands ache. It has been too long since I have created something beautiful.
I set aside the wet parchment to dry and bend forward to blow out the candle. The mesmerizing colors cause me to pause. Brac said my soul’s reflection can be seen within nature-fire. What could mine be? A tigress? A mother bear? A falcon? I lower my gaze eye level to the root of the flame, its golden tip flickering.
As I concentrate on the heart of the fire, something swirls in the burning blue center and then ascends upward. A scaly face with gleaming eyes, a long snout, and two wiry whiskers manifests in the flame’s yellow offshoots.
The dragon snaps at me with pointy fangs.
I reel back, and the face disappears.
It takes me a moment to comprehend what I saw. My soul’s reflection is a dragon?
But dragons are evil . . . My soul-fire sings to . . . a demon?
The hour is late. My imagination must be exploiting my exhaustion. I rub my weary eyes, scrubbing the fiery dragon from my vision, lean over the candle, and blow out the flame.
Mountain air, thick and crisp as chewing ice, hangs like an icicle in my chest. Jaya wraps her arms around me, her cheek pressed to my upper arm. “I’m glad we’re home,” she says.
The Alpanas rise above us, cutting into the sky with snaggily teeth. I clasp my hands over Jaya’s. “I’ve missed this. Missed you.”
We look out over the boxy garden where Deven rakes weeds from around the barley plants. A straw hat shades his dark eyes and bearded jawline. He sees us watching and waves.
“You can still have this,” Jaya says.
“It won’t be the same without you.” I take in her pretty round face, tiny chin, and wide nose. Her shining smile could scatter rain clouds.
“You could release the Voider and ask him to bring me back.”
I still my wistfulness and answer sadly, “I cannot do that, Jaya. The Voider would destroy everything. I’d be bringing you back to a fallen world.”
“The Voider doesn’t want to rend the sky from the land. Those are lies.”
“How do you know what it wants?” I ask, gazing at her more closely.
She leans toward me, and I recoil from the sudden craze in her eyes. Her voice grows deep and raspy. “Because I am the Voider.”
Jaya’s face and body melt away into a coiled dragon cobra at my feet. Before I can flee, the viper strikes my shin. I sink down, holding my bitten leg, and shout for Deven. He comes running, but as he approaches, his shape changes.
When he reaches me, Tarek kneels at my side. “Shh, love.” He pulls me into his lap and pets my hair. The viper’s poison is paralyzing, trapping me in Tarek’s arms. “We will always have each other.”
I scream and sit upright, a flame bursting from my hand. Natesa jumps back from leaning over me. My heatwave barely misses her and hits the tapestry of the jungle across from my bed. The thick cloth ignites and burns outward in a circle. Natesa rushes over and beats the fire out with a broom. I press a hand over my sprinting heart and search for Tarek and the cobra. Both are gone.
Natesa throws open the balcony door to dispense of the smoke and then props against the broom, out of breath. Smoke hazes the distance between us. The tapestry has a huge hole scorched in the center. “You scared me into my next life,” she says.
“I’m sorry.” I bury my face in my clammy hands. The burning viper bite on my leg and Tarek’s arms around me is still sharp in my mind. “What time is it?”
“Dawn. I came to wake you. Your first trial starts soon.”
I cannot face my competitors shaken. These nightmares must stop. I throw back the bedcovers, tug on my robe, and hurry out the door. I reach Brother Shaan’s chamber and knock. No one answers, so I go down the hall to Prince Ashwin’s door. Rohan is there, standing guard.
“Kindred, what’s wrong?”
“Have you seen Brother Shaan?”
“Not yet today.”
I knock for Ashwin and wait. My knee jogs impatiently. I need to speak to Brother Shaan before my dream fades.
Ashwin answers bare chested, his hair ruffled. “Kalinda.”
My face heats from his unabashed stare roving over me in my thin robe. I duck my chin to hide my blush. “I hope I didn’t wake you. I need to speak with Brother Shaan. Do you know where he is?”
“He’s supposed to come by shortly to report on the camps. You’re welcome to come in and wait for him.” Ashwin opens the door wider, revealing more of his bare golden chest. I slip past him inside and leave Rohan in the corridor.
“Sorry for the clutter.” Ashwin tidies up books lying across the table and chairs, clearing a spot for me. “Mint tea?” he asks, gesturing to a steaming cup.
“No, thank you.” I scan the texts stacked everywhere, looking anywhere but at his shirtless torso. “Have you read all of these?”
“Most of them when I was younger. I was lonely without them around—I had shelves full of books in my room at the temple—so I borrowed these from the sultan’s library.”
I scan the heaps of books, marveling at how well educated he must be. “You must have read a lot growing up.”
Ashwin’s tone turns reflective. “Tarek said I read too much. He thought it was a waste of time. But during his last few visits, he requested I read to him. He said it made him happy to listen to me share something I enjoy. He was happy because I was happy.” Ashwin rubs the sad tilt of his lips. “Sometimes I still read aloud to remind myself he wasn’t a total monster.”
I understand why Ashwin romanticizes people. He saw a glimmer of goodness in his selfish father, which taught him not to discount anyone’s potential for decency.