“Thirty-five.”
Bile scalds my windpipe. The urumi will tear Taline apart long before she is lashed that many times. This is brutality beyond retribution. Rajah Tarek wants to make an example out of her, but she is not his enemy; she is his wife. Taline deserves more respect than to be used as an exhibit. The rajah should end her mercifully, with a clean kill.
“Deven, we have to stop this,” I whisper.
He curls his fingers around my elbow, holding me in place. “There’s nothing you can do.”
Lakia halts behind the sobbing woman. “Shall we count with the gong?” She lifts the urumi, and the servant manning the gong raises the mallet.
I yank myself from Deven’s grasp and shove through the bystanders to the terrace balcony. “Is this the best you can do?” I say.
Lakia looks up at me, the urumi outstretched.
“Taline’s a large target,” I say, “and the urumi has so many blades. This won’t be much of a show of your skill.”
Lakia lowers the urumi. “I would like to see how you fare against the urumi, Viraji.”
“Do you propose a better demonstration, my champion?” Tarek calls from his throne.
I turn to him, fingers quivering against my sides. “I do, Your Majesty. A skill competition between the kindred and myself.”
Benefactors mumble and nod in appreciation. The ranis and courtesans whisper their surprise. Deven shakes his head to end this. I ball my trembling fingers into fists. I will not allow Lakia to treat this rani like a stuffed dummy.
Rajah Tarek considers me with a probing stare. He must realize that I am delaying Taline’s death and preserving what dignity she has left. But this is a diversion. Once I finish competing with Lakia, skill demonstrations will be over, and I will plead with the rajah on Taline’s behalf for a merciful, private death befitting her station.
“By all means.” Tarek sweeps his arm to push me along. “Present your challenge.”
I signal Asha over from the warm-up tent, where she waits. She lugs a crate of clinking glass orbs into the garden, a group of serving women behind her. I recognize them as the ones who bring my tub and bathwater.
“Glass orbs?” Lakia sneers. “You challenge me with decorations?”
Nervous chuckles sound from the crowd.
“They’re small and light.” I descend the steps to the lower garden. “A much more difficult target than a shackled prisoner.” Taline cries softly on the ground. Gods, she looks about my age. I stand between her and Lakia, my heart drumming so hard that I fear it will fracture a rib. “Not up to the task?”
Lakia pets the urumi handle. “Tell me the terms.”
“At the signal of the gong, the servants will throw the glass orbs and we will have thirty seconds to shatter as many as we can. Two guards will keep count of our felled targets. Whoever breaks the most wins.” I motion to Asha to open the crate and pass out the glass orbs to the throwers. The servants fill their arms with them. Asha came prepared with more than enough.
Lakia’s gaze dashes to the captivated crowd and then narrows on me. “Done, but I choose the guards.”
I hide a relieved exhalation. Her pride is dependable; I will commend her for that.
The soldiers cart Taline to the perimeter of the clearing. Lakia assigns two guards to keep count and then faces the wide clearing with the urumi. I stand down the way from her and take my slingshot out of my pocket.
Mocking laughter spills out behind me. I stand tall, gaze forward. I will display the skill that best represents me. I am certain that is what the land-goddess would advise me to do.
“Is that your weapon of choice, my champion?” Tarek’s amusement is wearing thin.
“It is.” I seek his patience with a slender smile. “You won’t be disappointed.”
Tarek wags a finger. “Continue.”
“Your pathetic attempt to humiliate me will fail,” Lakia says under her breath.
I see Taline tremble from the corner of my eye. The kindred has no idea of my intent.
I fill my fist with firing stones from my pouch. Asha and the other servants stand off to my right and left, ready to fling the colorful glass orbs across the clearing. I load my slingshot with the first firing stone and draw back. Ki, let my aim be true.
The gong rings, and the sand timer turns.
Servants hurl the glass orbs into the air. Lakia lashes out. The urumi’s dozens of blades shatter three orbs from the sky before they soar free. I shoot a twinkling orb arcing away. The ball bursts, and glass rains down like frozen tears.
I reload with the stones amassed in my palm and train my sight on another orb, farther out. I release, shattering another target. The servants shield their faces upon throwing orb after orb, Lakia striking down the ones close to her. I release, reload, and shoot. Inhale and load. Exhale and fire. Vibrant shards and fine dust litter the grass with glittering pieces. Seconds drain away in the crack of the urumi, explosion of glass, and snap of my slingshot.
The gong rings, signaling the end of our time.
Lakia scans the area around her. “How many?”
Her guard counts her broken targets. “The kindred brought down eighteen!”
“How many for the viraji?” Tarek asks, sitting forward on his throne. My range was farther with the slingshot. Whereas Lakia had to break the orbs before they spun away, I shot them down farther out.
The audience stays quiet for the second guard to answer. “The viraji felled twenty-one!”
Tarek releases a roar of triumph over the audience’s applause. “Bring the viraji here!”
Deven is at my side in an instant. I avoid his tight-lipped frown and go with him, passing through the clapping benefactors. The women utter proclamations of “With a slingshot!” and “More than the kindred!” Deven escorts me to the platform stairs and returns to his place outside the tent.
Tarek embraces me atop the podium and swings me around to face the people. “My champion!”
His boasting shakes a weak smile out of me. Across the way, Taline crouches in a defensive position, but her chin is lifted high. As I look out over the spectators, waiting for Tarek to stop bragging so that I can speak to him about the fate of his wife, I spot the general. Gautam’s arm is tucked around a young woman wearing a veil over the lower half of her face. Her hair is ebony; her big eyes are vacant. Her figure is tiny beside him, and her skin is icy pale. My heart dives to my feet.
Jaya.
My world spins to an abrupt halt. Jaya and General Gautam sift to the back of the tent and out of sight. I break from Tarek’s hold and hop down off the podium, knees jarring. I reel around, but I cannot see Jaya anywhere.
Eshana rushes over. “Kalinda! You were tremendous.”
I grab Eshana by the shoulders. “Have you seen General Gautam?”
“I—I saw him over there not long—”