“Then why did you refuse to become an imperial guard the first time you were asked?”
Deven leans against the arch column. “A year ago, I was part of a military caravan transporting the rajah when bhutas ambushed us. A Galer’s high winds swept away the others, but I tied the rajah and myself to a boulder. Only we survived, and Rajah Tarek offered to promote me to imperial guard. I took a position as captain in the army instead.” His voice thickens. “I left the Brotherhood and became a soldier to be nearer to my younger brother. He, Yatin, and I trained together. Yatin wasn’t with us during the ambush, but my brother was. After I secured the rajah, I tried to go back for him, but he was already gone. I have been searching for the bhutas who killed him since.”
Grief rolls off Deven’s bunched shoulders. He is not at fault for his brother’s death, but if I had saved the rajah instead of Jaya, I would never forgive myself either.
“But why did you accept this promotion now?”
“Things have changed.”
“Such as?” As counterintuitive as it may be, I wish for him to say that he stayed to be near me. That I am the change.
Deven scrubs a hand across his jaw. I doubt that he has slept more than an hour at a time since we left Samiya. “I have hunted bhutas for many moons, but I have never been as close to them as I have these past days. So long as the Burner is near you, I will be too.”
“I see.” I rein in my disappointment. “I am bait.”
Deven turns to me, his eyes sparking with temper. “I did not accept this advancement solely to serve the empire, Kali. You are the people’s champion and the viraji, but let there be no mistake—you are not bait.”
His sudden intensity pulls at me. I soften my expression, extending a silent apology for misunderstanding him. His stance relaxes, like a taut bow released. The shield of distance he carries with him falls bit by bit, and the crease between his brows gradually smooths away.
Footsteps sound down the corridor. Deven straightens, morphing back into detached Captain Naik. But beneath his reserved exterior, he is still Deven.
14
Today is not a day to miss my tonic dosage. I wake early, dawn’s flaxen light easing through my bedchamber, and draw a swig from one of my remaining vials. With my nose scrunched from the pungent taste, I notice a book on the other half of my bed that was not there when I fell asleep. I glance around my empty chamber and pick up the old text.
Bhuta Origins. Gooseflesh springs up my arms. I open the cover and flip through the pages, pausing on a drawing of Anu. Four mortals kneel before the sky-god as he offers them fragments of light he carved from the sun with his mighty khanda. I have seen countless images of Anu, but never this one. The caption reads:
Anu bestowed four mortals with shafts of his power. His visitation was later documented in the Zhaleh, a record of bhuta heritage. In his visit, Anu’s light elevated these mortals to half-gods, the highest form of mortal reincarnation.
Questions cram my mind. Half-gods? But Bhutas are offspring of the demon Kur, the ruler of the Void. I continue flipping through the pages, and the same several words and phrases stand out. Sky-god. Bhutas. Half-gods.
“Good morning, Viraji.”
I slam the book shut and look up. Asha carries in a breakfast tray and slides it onto my bedside table. I stash Bhuta Origins under the covers, my thoughts circling deeper into perplexity.
I eat my breakfast, a bowl of honey-drizzled yogurt, and Asha tidies my chamber. Her heavy black veil conceals all but her downcast eyes. None of the other servants wear such a veil, and I wonder what she is hiding.
She picks up my satchel from the bedpost, where I had slung it, and one of my vials falls out and shatters on the floor. She kneels to sop up the mess. “I’m so sorry!” she says.
“Leave it,” I say. I step down off my bed, dodging broken glass. Asha continues to work. “I said, ‘Leave it!’”
She covers her face in defense and backs out of my chamber in a bow. I expel a sigh and clean up. Asha did not mean to break my tonic vial, but she still shortened my remedy supply to about eight days. I only have one full vial and a bit left.
I dress, pleating my sari between my legs for training, and then put the strange book in my satchel along with the remaining vials. I dig the tonic formula out of my satchel pocket and skim the ingredients. Most are herbs that I recognize, but I pause on the final two: white baneberry and snakeroot. Frowning, I reread the list. Jaya used to grow white baneberry and snakeroot. They are both poisonous.
That does not make sense. Healer Baka had never told me what was in her remedy, but she would never feed me poison. She must have written the formula wrong.
Asha returns, her step wary. I tuck the tonic formula into the waistband of my trousers. “I’m sorry for snapping at you,” I say.
Startled, her eyes swerve to mine. “You won’t punish me?”
“No. It was an accident.”
“Bless you, Viraji. Bless you.”
She shielded her face from me before, when I was angry, thinking that I would strike out at her. Is that what the other ranis do?
“How did you come to serve here, Asha?” I ask.
“I was claimed.”
“You were raised by the Sisterhood?” I consider her calm, dark eyes and picture her wearing a blue sari like other temple wards.
“The kindred accompanied the rajah to my temple and claimed several wards to serve the ranis. I have been here nearly two years.”
So it is possible to return for Jaya and claim her. My heart flutters, knowing that our plan could work, but I am ashamed of my impatience with Asha. She shares my upbringing. I could have just as easily been claimed as a servant. “I truly am sorry.”
Though I cannot see the rest of her face, her eyes warm. She picks up the breakfast tray, and I follow her out.
Manas waits in the quiet corridor. “Morning, Viraji.”
He looks ready to keel over. He must have been outside my door all night. “Where is Captain Naik?” I say.
“Off duty. You’re up early. Most of the ranis are late rousers.” He tries to subtly prod me back inside my chamber with his gaze. I could wait for Deven, but I start down the hall. Manas stays with me. “Where are you going?”
We pass a mirror glass on the wall, and I glimpse my reflection. The henna line down my nose has faded even more, but I am still marked as an intended bride.
“The Tigress Pavilion. I have training to do.”
An ax whirls across the courtyard and impales itself in a pillar with a solid thunk. I round the corner of the portico and see Lakia unbend from her throwing stance. We are the only two people here.
“Another early riser.” Annoyance clips her tone. She stalks to the ax and yanks it from the target. “No one else has been up this early with me since . . .” Her eyes taper to incisive slits.