“I’m certain the gods are watching over the kindred,” says a young rani, a baby propped on her hip. “I’m Shyla.” She motions to the pair of ranis who tittered at Brac earlier. “That’s Eshana and Parisa. And the woman there”—she gestures at the scarred servant with downcast eyes—“is Asha, Kalinda’s servant.”
I recognize them now. Eshana was one of Tarek’s favored four. Asha, the servant, once wore a heavy veil that hid her facial scars. She took good care of Kali.
Shyla moves in closer. “We’re the kindred’s friends, but some of the women are upset that she ran when the rebels invaded.”
From the women’s accusatory glares, they consider Natesa and Kalinda’s actions cowardly. But Kali has been fighting for her people since she left, and Natesa is here now. The truth of their efforts scalds my tongue.
Brac tugs my arm, turning us away from the crowd. “They don’t know what’s happening outside these walls. Hastin believes they’re too beneath him to tell them anything, and I didn’t want to upset them even more. We should speak in private.” He revolves and tosses the women a charming grin. “We apologize for interrupting your breakfast. Please, return to your meal with your children. We’ll gather again shortly.”
He escorts a rani to the dining patio. She smiles at him as they go, and they pick up more women and children along the way. Skies above. Brac hasn’t told them he’s a Burner. Gradually, everyone returns to their meal, except Shyla, Parisa, and Eshana, and the servant Asha, whom he invites to stay.
We gather around the fountain. Brac returns and motions for me to start. I do not waste time on pleasantries. These women are all battle survivors. They can handle the truth.
“The imperial army, ten thousand men strong, has gathered outside the city wall.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?” Parisa asks.
“No. The army is being led by a demon who escaped from the Void.” I wait for my explanation to permeate. “The demon is disguised as Rajah Tarek.”
Eshana and Parisa gasp. Shyla covers her open mouth.
“But Rajah Tarek is dead.” Frown marks indent Asha’s scarred brow. “We saw his body. Before he burned it, Hastin threw it on a refuse cart and carried it around the city for all to see.”
“Rajah Tarek is dead,” I affirm. “The demon has convinced the army that the gods sent him back to this life to avenge the empire against the warlord.”
“This demon rajah . . .” Shyla glances at her child, one of Tarek’s heirs. “He’s headed for the palace?”
“Yes. His freedom relies on his success. The imperial army is trying to break through the city wall right now.”
Eshana blanches. “But we have no way to defend ourselves. The rebels took our weapons.”
Parisa frowns at her fingers. “They even confiscated my favorite nail file.”
“The Lestarian Navy is on its way here,” I say. “Kalinda and Prince Ashwin might be with them.”
“Might?” Brac asks. Some of this information is news to him as well.
“Hastin was supposed to meet them and discuss allying, but it was a ruse. I believe they’re alive, but I have no idea where they are.”
Opal clutches my arm. A second later, an earsplitting explosion goes off and a cloud of dirt stains the skyline. Everyone quiets across the pavilion and in the dining patio. The palace walls and floors rumble.
The Galer releases me, her hand shaking. “The army has broken through the city wall.”
Curse Hastin for his arrogance. Despite Anjali’s assertions about the rebels’ superiority, Udug bludgeoned his way through.
Shyla bounces her baby on her hip nervously. “We need to warn the others.”
“We can do better than that,” counters Parisa. “We can fight.”
The rajah’s wives and courtesans have ample experience contending for their lives, and the scars from their rank tournaments prove it. A piece of Parisa’s earlobe was hacked off, and scars run widthwise across Eshana’s torso. Shyla is missing two fingers on her left hand. These women are dedicated daughters of the land-goddess Ki and have the right to defend themselves, their homes, and their families. They are not standard soldiers—they are better. They are sister warriors.
But even they cannot stand against the demon rajah and triumph. I should warn them of our remote chance of victory, though I doubt that would discourage them. It did not change my mind. I, too, am willing to fight against Udug for all that I love. The ranis and courtesans deserve that same choice, and perhaps together, we can make a difference.
“Brac,” I say. “How fast can you find their weapons?” No one knows the palace passageways better than he does.
“Could take a while. Galers are monitoring the corridors.”
“I can help,” Asha offers, her voice shy. “I was there when they stashed them. They’re in an antechamber off the throne room.”
“That’s in the center of the palace,” Natesa grumbles.
Asha nods. “I can lead us through the servants’ passageways. One connects to the antechamber, but the door is locked on the outside and I don’t have a key. We’d have to go through the throne room to the antechamber and unlock the door from the inside. We can use the passageway to carry the weapons out.”
I make a split-second decision. “Asha and I will go.”
“Won’t the rebels be guarding the main entrance?” Natesa asks. “You’ll have to pass by it to enter the throne room.”
Brac hops slightly on his feet, eager to help. “I’ll take care of the guards at the main entrance.”
“Good,” I reply. “Yatin and Natesa, stay here with Opal. Defend the entryways. Hastin may do something rash if he feels threatened or suspects we’re organizing our troops.”
Opal speaks up, wearing a mask of intensity. “I’ll cover everyone’s movements the best I can.”
I hearten her with a quick, one-armed embrace, and she tucks into my side to lengthen our connection. Her need for comfort is so great I regret not consoling her sooner.
“We’ll help too,” Eshana offers. “Parisa, Shyla, and I will tell the other women what’s happening.”
“Yatin and I will help answer their questions,” says Natesa. The ranis assess her, a lower-ranking courtesan in their strict hierarchy.
“Good idea,” Shyla says, slipping her arm through Natesa’s. She leads her ahead of Yatin and the others to the dining patio.
“Did you hear him?” Parisa whispers to Eshana as they go. “Deven called us his troops.”
“I wouldn’t mind being under his command,” Eshana replies. Their giggles drift away, and Yatin lumbers after them.
Asha goes to the doorway of the servants’ passageway and waits. I hesitate to leave my brother so soon after finding him. I still need to have a word with him about Chitt. But a new worry stops me. What if Brac is excited to hear about his father? He, Mother, and Chitt will be a family, and I do not know how I will fit in. Our conversation can wait.
“Look after yourself,” I say.
Brac grasps me by the shoulder. “Stop worrying about me, Deven. I’ve been sneaking around the palace since I learned to walk.”