“I’ll give you time to think about who’s in charge here before I have that word with you.” The vizier signals to a guard. “Lock him up.”
A Galer seizes me and pushes me out of the crowd. As I am forced away, the men glare at Vizier Gyan. Finally, they see that I am not their enemy here.
The hut comes into view, and my urgency rises. I have to send a message to Kali before I am locked away. Prince Ashwin said Opal and Rohan are listening to the happenings in camp, but so is Vizier Gyan. He will probably decode anything I say, regardless of how I conceal my meaning. Still, with what I learned from Manas about Prince Ashwin, I will not make this easy on him. This message is for Natesa and Kali, the people who care about Yatin and who will do something, not the useless boy prince. When we are almost to the cell, the right words come to me.
“Tell little lotus the bear is sick!” I yell.
“Shut him up,” says Vizier Gyan.
The Galer grasps the back of my neck, and his invisible hand of power dives into my lungs. The air is sealed off from my mouth. I cannot breathe. My empty lungs burn for the sky. The Galer guard lets me go. I stumble forward into the cell and fall to the dirt, wheezing.
Vizier Gyan’s shadow fills the doorway. “Defy me again, Captain, and I will grind your bones to dust.” He slams the door and locks me inside. I curl up on the ground and wait for the agony of the winnowing to pass.
22
KALINDA
A warm bath does not rid me of the scent of smoke or wipe away the ghostly image of Jaya floating in the deep. Natesa leaves me alone with Opal to go and burn my clothes. Riddled with singe marks and holes from shooting embers, my sparring outfit is a total loss.
With hair damp from my bath, I stare at my untouched supper. I should renew my strength, but I cannot muster an appetite. Longing pangs through my chest like a lost echo. Did I really see Jaya? Or did I imagine her?
I did not dream up the aftermath of the fire. All those destroyed boats. All those frightened people glaring at me and blaming me for burning down their livelihoods.
Rohan slips inside my chamber. “Where’s Natesa?” he asks.
“She’ll be right back. Why?”
He shrugs and comes to the table. “Probably nothing. Are you going to eat this?”
“Help yourself.”
He sits beside me and digs into my plate.
Natesa comes in with the empty laundry basket and spots Rohan eating my food. “That was for Kalinda.”
“I told him he could have it,” I say.
Rohan flashes Natesa a disarming grin and eats more papaya. He chews twice and then says, “I heard something strange today. Natesa, what does Yatin call you again? A nickname of some sort?”
“Little lotus,” I reply.
Rohan takes a bite of flatbread. “That’s what I thought. Would the message ‘Tell little lotus the bear is sick’ mean anything to you?”
I lock gazes with Natesa. She sets down the basket, her body tense. We puzzle through the message at the same time. Natesa is “little lotus,” so “the bear” must be . . . My insides plunge.
“Who sent the message?” I ask.
“I’m not allowed to say,” answers Rohan.
Natesa marches to him and snatches his plate away. “Tell us.”
“Prince Ashwin said not to talk about what I hear in the camps. I couldn’t find him, so I came here. I didn’t think it meant anything, honest.” Rohan reaches for his plate, but Natesa swings it away.
“Tell us everything,” she demands, “or I swear to the gods I’ll throw your supper out the window.”
“Wait! Captain Naik sent the message. The sickness has spread to the military encampment. Some of the soldiers have fallen ill. One of them has died.”
“Is it Yatin?” Natesa asks, near to breathless.
“He’s alive but unwell.”
She lowers the plate in disbelief. Two slices of papaya slide off to the floor.
Rohan takes back the dish before she drops it too. “No one’s supposed to know. Prince Ashwin doesn’t want anyone to panic.”
My nerves crackle with alarm. “Is Deven sick?”
“I don’t think so,” Rohan answers.
Natesa presses her palm to her stomach. “We have to help Yatin.”
“No, no, no.” Rohan throws up his hands. “Didn’t you hear me? No one can know I told you.”
“Who else could have heard Deven’s message?” I ask.
“Any Galer who was listening, I suppose,” says Rohan.
By now, Vizier Gyan must know the meaning of Deven’s message. Deven must be terrified for himself and Yatin. Why did Ashwin not tell me Yatin is sick or that the illness has spread to the military encampment?
“Kalinda, we have to go down there,” Natesa insists.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I reply. “Any attempt to interfere could worsen the situation.” We must find another way to help Yatin. A single solution comes to mind—but it will cost me. “Rohan, I need you to take me somewhere.”
He casts a pining glance at his food and then drags himself to me at the door.
Natesa rushes to follow us. “I’m coming with you—”
“Stay here in case Ashwin or Brother Shaan comes by. Tell them Rohan is escorting me on a walk.” I grasp her hands firmly. Natesa gnaws her lower lip. “I promise I’ll help Yatin.”
“Where are you going?” she asks.
“To visit a friend.”
Indah answers my first knock.
“May I come in?” I ask.
After a heartbeat of hesitation, she opens the door. Pons is seated at a table near the hearth, eating supper with her. The intimacy of their meal causes me to pause, but neither laments the interruption. He rises without complaint. Indah trails him with her gaze as he goes into the corridor to stand guard with Rohan.
“I apologize for interrupting,” I say.
“We were nearly finished.” Indah invites me to sit with her at the table in the chair Pons vacated.
The layout of her chamber is exactly like mine. Her trident is propped near the door, and a shell necklace hangs over the bedpost. Much of Indah is still a mystery, but after today at the river, being competitors is not all there is between us. We respect each other, and that is a firm enough foundation for trust.
“Thank you for what you did. I have to admit I was surprised.”
Indah crosses her curvy legs. “We aren’t enemies, Kalinda. We’re competitors, but we’re also both sister warriors. In Lestari, women don’t turn their backs on each other.”
“Did you . . . Did you happen to see anything unusual in the river? A light perhaps?”
She drops her head to the side in question. “No. Should I have?”
“No, I, ah . . .” I push aside my memory of Jaya’s spirit. “That isn’t why I’ve come. My people are falling ill in the encampments. One of my friends, a guard, is sick. Can you spare an Aquifier to care for him?”
Indah leans back in her seat. “I’m willing to help, but the datu’s aid isn’t free. You know what he’ll ask for in return.”
“I do, and after seeing all four bhuta powers work together to put out the fire, I believe the Zhaleh will be safer with Virtue Guards. Tell Datu Bulan that once the tournament is over, I’ll go to Lestari with you and bring the book to him myself.”