“Be more stubborn.”
Yatin grunts noncommittally and slips the ring into his pocket. The noises around camp have lessened. The men are turning in for the night. I pat his shoulder and then walk back to the others. Natesa is by herself.
“Where did Rohan go?” I ask.
She picks dirt out from under her nails. “He needed the latrine.”
“Keep an eye on him and Yatin while I’m gone.”
“Are you assigning me to watch duty, General?”
Why does everyone take what I say as an order? “You can call it that if you prefer.” I thumb at Yatin. “He’s worried about you.”
“No, he’s mad that I took off my turban, but we would have been caught. At the very least, you would have. Kali will burn us alive if anything happens to you.”
“I’m not so certain she cares,” I admit.
“Don’t be a dolt. Of course she does.” Natesa thumps my shin, a friendly bump. I return her badgering with a nudge of my toe. She does not smile. “Yatin wants to marry me.”
“Oh?”
“You’re an awful liar, Deven. I know Yatin told you. He doesn’t understand why I want to meet his family first, because he has a family. But it matters to me.” Natesa hugs her knees to her chest and tries unsuccessfully not to glance at him.
“He wants you for his wife,” I reply. “He already considers you part of his family.”
She loosens some. “You better go before Rohan comes back and talks you into taking him along. Be careful.”
“You too.” I pick up my empty water cup, salute her in farewell, and head off.
I maneuver through the sleepy camp, careful not to draw much attention. The soldiers have settled in tents or lain out under wagons. To keep up the appearance that I am out for a drink, I stop at the watering hole. No one pays me any mind as I down a cup of stale water and head off in a direction opposite to the one I came from. Since we have not found any sign of prisoners, the demon rajah must be keeping them close by, so I set out in search of his tent.
Near the front of camp, the covered wagons multiply. At the end of a long row, the demon rajah’s grand silk tent is pitched. Manas ducks out the tent’s entry. I flatten against a wagon, and he strides to the far end of the nearest row.
I start after Manas. Heaviness burdens my approach, and a high signal drones in my ears, as though I am standing too close to a ringing gong. I close in on the tent, and a thick, cloying darkness permeates the night. Even the torchlights do not shine as far.
A blue light flashes from inside the tent, and a sudden tremor shakes the ground. Then stunning quiet.
Cold fingers pry at my chest. That quake came from a Trembler.
Ignoring the fear simmering in my gut, I tiptoe down the row of wagons, navigating the gloom to my advantage.
A shadow moves in front of me. Someone else sneaks to the wagon at the end of the second row. I recognize the person’s small, slight shape and whisper his name.
Rohan pauses, the only indication that he heard me, and carries on. I hiss for him to come back, but he tiptoes closer to the last covered wagon.
Skies above. I should have ordered him to remain with Natesa and Yatin.
I dart to the line of wagons and nestle in the shadows. A swift, suspicious gust ruffles the draped opening of the demon rajah’s tent and knocks over a lamp within. Two guards and Manas dash inside to stomp out the fire.
Rohan must have caused the sudden wind. He hurries for the wagon nearest the tent. I stop at the front of the wagon, by the coachman’s bench, and peer around the corner. Rohan hovers at the corner of the covered wagon’s rear door.
“Opal?” he whispers.
I strain my ears but hear nothing. Manas will have weakened the bhuta prisoners by poisoning them with white baneberry and snakeroot or by bleeding out their powers.
A muffled voice comes from inside the wagon. “Rohan?”
Opal. I listen for Brac, but another voice calls out.
“General,” says the demon Udug in Tarek’s stolen timbre, “we have a visitor.”
Manas and two soldiers armed with crossbows race out of the tent. Rohan summons a raging gust, and the opulent tent starts to lift off the ground. Furniture tips over, and lamplight flickers. Both soldiers release bolts. Rohan’s wind diverts the first one, but the second strikes him in the shoulder.
Rohan falls, and his winds dwindle.
“Bind him,” says Manas.
The soldiers tie Rohan’s wrists behind him with a vine of toxic snakeroot, and the last of his powers recede. In the stillness, the demon rajah strides out of his tent.
“You’re audacious, boy.” Udug’s snide voice rings with amusement. “Are you alone?”
Rohan bends over, in pain from the bolt in his shoulder. “You have my sister.”
“You mean Opal.” Udug elongates the o and snaps the p. Ooo-pal. “Your sister has proven to be very valuable.”
Manas speaks up. “This boy served as a guard for Kindred Kalinda and Prince Ashwin.”
“Oh?” Udug looms over Rohan as he would a drooping flower. “How are my son and first wife? Have they run into any further trouble?”
My stomach plunges. He must mean the sea raiders. Did they follow the navy or Kali and the prince?
Rohan groans through firm-set teeth. “Release Opal. Take me.”
“I have no need for two abominations.” The demon rajah grabs Rohan’s head as he did when he executed the Galer.
Anu, don’t let this be happening.
Rohan also recognizes the fatal grip and toughens to someone sager than his fourteen years. “Prince Ashwin is our true ruler. He and Kindred Kalinda will stop you.”
His boldness tugs at my pride. His voice did not break once.
“You will not live to see how wrong you are.” Udug’s fingers glow an eerie azure as his fingertips dig into Rohan’s head. “I cast you out, demon.”
Rohan’s expression fixes in a silent scream. White light, his soul-fire, filters out of him and into the demon’s grasp.
Pounding sounds from inside the wagon. Opal bangs against the door, her shouts indistinct. I have to get to Rohan. Perhaps I could dispatch Manas and one of the guards before the other releases a bolt at me, but could I cut down all three? And then how do I stop Udug?
All my muscles strain for me to step forward—to protect Rohan, to stop Udug, to do something—but Opal’s wailing holds me back. I promised Rohan I would save his sister. Revealing my presence would jeopardize my chance of keeping my word. Any attempt to save Rohan would put Opal, Natesa, and Yatin in danger, and by all reason would be suicide. I cannot do anything for Rohan, but I can still help Opal.
Dropping my head against the side of the wagon, I fight the need to act. Why couldn’t Rohan have listened to me and stayed behind? Why didn’t he trust me? I should have known he lied to Natesa about needing the latrine. I should have stayed at the wagon until he returned. I failed him. I failed us all.