The Chariot at Dusk

by Swati Teerdhala

  “You’re safe,” she said.

  “Home?” His voice was a soft croak, hopeful.

  Esha shook her head. “The Pink Palace. But we’re in control of it.”

  He was too weak to hide the disappointment on his face.

  “Harun, do you remember what you were going to say? In the jungle?” Esha asked quickly. She didn’t know how much time she’d have before he exhausted himself.

  “In the jungle?”

  “You said you had something you had to tell me.”

  Harun flushed, color rushing into his cheeks. “Um, I think I told you everything I had to in the palace.” His voice was quiet, a bit remote.

  Esha coughed, the tension suddenly so thick in the room that it was suffocating.

  “No, not that. Though . . . we should talk about that. After you shifted, you told me you had something to tell me. It sounded like a warning.”

  Harun’s face pinched in thought. “Oh,” he breathed, his eyes blinking in recollection. He spoke slowly, his voice thick as jaggery syrup. “Yes, the warning. I heard things, possible information, while I was held captive. I can only remember bits and pieces right now, but the Yavar, they came to the Sun Mela for a reason. And I think they might have had someone inside the palace. It’s a hunch. I don’t know for sure. They knew too much for it to all fit otherwise.”

  “I trust your hunches.”

  She could still feel the rage inside her at the idea of Yamini hurting her friend, but now it was colder, deeper.

  A person on the inside could mean anyone—a servant, a merchant who did business with the palace, a soldier, a Blade. And it could also be nothing. A plot by the Yavar to sow discord. Let the captive prince overhear a lie. But Esha had seen enough betrayal in her past to not immediately discard the idea of a mole in the palace.

  “I wish I remembered more—” Harun began.

  “It’s okay,” Esha said softly. She placed a gentle hand on Harun’s forearm, rubbing into the tense muscles. He began to relax, and he gave her a small, almost nervous smile. This was the boy she had met after the coup and the Night of Tears. Quieter, unsure, vulnerable. Before the world had asked him to don armor and hide himself. She had the sudden urge to pull herself closer, to lean in and take away his pain in the best way she knew how.

  Instead, she let her hand only linger, long enough that Harun glanced up at her with warm, and confused, eyes.

  “We have Blades stationed at every exit and entrance,” she said, clearing her throat. “We’ll start to give two sets of information to confirm if this inside person is one of ours.”

  “One of ours? Esha, that’s a big conclusion to jump to.”

  “It’d be stupid not to consider it after everything that has happened.” He didn’t have anything to say about that, only a purse of his lips.

  “Anyway, the Scales have agreed to work with us against the common threat of Yamini and the Yavar.” She glanced to the sitting room outside, where Laksh and Mayank were sitting and talking. “For now. Laksh helped rescue you. I believe they’re acting in good faith. But we’ll be careful, especially with this new news.”

  Harun tilted his head in a slight nod. “I trust your judgment,” he said quietly.

  Emotion choked her throat, and she reached out to run a hand through Harun’s damp hair. Harun tried to catch it, but he was too weak.

  “Don’t. I’m a disgusting mess,” he said.

  “You are,” she agreed, which earned her a short laugh. “But I don’t mind. Don’t act as if I haven’t seen you at your worst. Remember that night when you and Bhandu went out drinking? He challenged you to a bet as to who could drink more? One of your stupider decisions. I’m pretty sure Bhandu could outdrink an inn full of fishermen.”

  “Hey—”

  “And then I was taking care of you for the rest of the night so your father wouldn’t find out. You know Bhandu had baited you into it, right?”

  Harun pursed his lips. “Why do you think I accepted? I have honor.”

  Esha shuddered. “Please, let’s never use that term again.” Amber eyes haunted those words.

  “Honor.” Harun looked up at Esha, who made a face. “Pride, then. I was young.”

  “Why do you say that as if you’re not young still?”

  “Younger, then. More foolish. I felt a need to prove myself at every turn,” he said, straining to get up from the bed. Esha moved his pillow and helped him sit. She handed him a glass of water.

  “Isn’t there a maid who could do all this?” Harun asked.

  “Not one I trust,” Esha said with a scowl.

  Harun raised an eyebrow, and Esha sighed, giving him a detailed account of what had happened the night of the Winner’s Ball, including the betrayal from Aditi—or Reha or Dharmdev, whatever name she decided to go by. Esha had trusted the maid who had deception in her heart from the first kind word exchanged.

  Esha had been pretty stupid.

  She wouldn’t be anymore.

  “It’s not your fault,” Harun said as she finished. “I want you to know that.”

  “Laksh said something similar,” Esha said. “It’s a nice thought, but I’m the one who let my guard down.”

  “And what about the rest of us? Your need to martyr yourself takes away our free will. We made the choice to trust the soldier too. I do trust him, even still.”

  “What?” Esha pivoted in the bed to face Harun full on.

  Her old friend was still handsome even when sickly. His cheekbones were pronounced, his face more angular than before, but he still held that power in him. Harun reached and captured her hand in his, drawing it into his lap. It was comforting to feel the warmth of his skin, the calluses of his fingertips.

  How had she ever thought she’d be able to get over Harun? He had never left her behind. Even now, weak and disheveled, he could make her body heat in memories. She leaned into him.

  “He betrayed us, but he also left to save the country, if our reports are accurate,” Harun said, reminding her of her own words.

  “He left us in a lurch; he took the only key to saving Jansa and he fled. He is the reason we couldn’t trade for you.”

  “Which is perhaps a good thing. Reha is far more important than me,” he said reasonably. Well, Esha wasn’t feeling in the least bit reasonable. “And did Kunal do that knowingly? Somehow I doubt his cursed sense of honor would allow him to leave me behind, even despite our obviously loving relationship.”

  “Humor is a good sign,” Esha said. “That means you’re healing at least.”

  “Don’t change the subject.”

  “Color is coming back too.”

  Esha put a hand to his throat and then head, checking his temperature. It put her a few inches from Harun, and their eyes caught. She glanced at his lips. Harun groaned, shaking his head.

  “What?”

  “You always know how to distract me,” Harun said. “Which means talking about this is more important than I thought.”

  “You don’t even like the soldier!” Esha crossed her arms. “And when did you become a talker? If memory serves, you were just as happy not talking before.”

  Harun ignored the barb. “Kunal isn’t my favorite, but I don’t have to like him to understand him. Esha, there was always the chance he’d choose his honor over the team. I tried to tell you.”

  Esha sputtered. “What?”

  “You were blind to it because of your . . .” Harun swallowed. “Because of your feelings.”

  Esha blushed. She didn’t want to discuss her feelings for a soldier with Harun. Not after his profession of love to her. It made her feel like an even bigger idiot than she was.

  “You didn’t see it, but I did. I tried to tell you,” he said.

  “Are you really trying to prove how right you were?”

  “No, I’m merely saying—”

  “There were edges to this I didn’t consider. I know,” she said. The fire had left her, and she drooped. Anger was easier than the roil of em
otions that had taken up residence in her soul. Her voice quieted.

  “It’s not your fault,” Harun repeated. Esha knew he was being kind. Six moons ago and they’d be having a huge fight over this, but they’d both changed since then.

  “Look, he must have left because it was the only option for saving Jansa,” Harun said. He looked as if the words pained him. “Does that mean he was right? Time will tell. If he was a Blade, I’d have him whipped. It was a direct refusal of orders.”

  “Exactly,” Esha said.

  “But he wasn’t a Blade, Esha,” Harun said.

  And you knew that.

  Harun didn’t say it, but he didn’t need to. She had staked her heart, her reputation, and the safety of her entire team on this soldier. Of course she had been let down.

  The bronze would always show through.

  A servant knocked on the door. Esha straightened and adjusted her sari, putting space between her and Harun.

  “Come in,” she said.

  The servant came straight to her and handed over a scroll. “Sorry to interrupt, my lady. This came from the hawk you had designated us to watch.”

  Esha nodded at the servant, who disappeared quickly through the door. Harun gave her a questioning look as she unfurled the note.

  “It’s from Bhandu,” Esha said. “He found them. And he’s on his way back.”

  “That’s good,” Harun said. He seemed to reconsider at the frown on her face. “Isn’t it?”

  “It is.”

  But at the end of the note:

  The ritual didn’t work.

  Chapter 8

  Despite their brutal pace, it was another week before they reached the Pink Palace. Reha was tiring, had been tiring since the last town, but she was the sort to grit her teeth and bear it. Kunal kept an eye on her for no other reason than that she had no one else. She was his family now, at least until they got back to the palace.

  Bhandu had received a note that Harun had been brought back to the palace, though he was unwell. He had also let Kunal know that it was the only reason he wouldn’t be immediately fed to the vultures that lived on top of the citadel once they entered the city.

  At least he was talking to him now. Even if the man was sniping at or threatening him at every other turn, his conversation meant there was a chance Kunal could win him back.

  He hoped the same of Esha.

  The closer they got to the palace, the more Kunal started to believe it had all been for nothing. Drought loomed over the land like a greedy specter. Bhandu’s squad members had collected water from the mountain rivers and were distributing it wherever they could after the tremors. But it wasn’t enough.

  Now, because of what happened at the temple, the people of Rusala could lose their dam filled with precious water. Some of the towns they had passed were being rationed to six buckets of water a day, barely enough for families of four. Others, only two buckets.

  Kunal’s heart had ached at every stop, as that familiar feeling of helplessness from his first trip through Jansa washed over him. This time it was mixed with something else—the knowledge that he had failed. And he had no idea what to do next. Apparently, when he made his own decisions, they were disastrous.

  They reached the walled gates of Gwali. Kunal didn’t recognize the Senaps that were on guard. He peered closer at them, trying to determine where he had seen them before.

  “They’re Blades,” Bhandu provided, drawing his horse up next to Kunal.

  His eyes widened. “And the actual Senaps?”

  “Those who came to our side are safe and posted elsewhere. The others . . .”

  Kunal blanched, and Bhandu chuckled.

  “Where are you taking us?” Reha asked wearily. Bhandu glanced back at her, frowning. He pulled back until his horse was alongside hers.

  “The palace,” Bhandu said. His voice softened, and he glanced at her shackled wrists. Bhandu had taken a liking to Reha, if only because she was Harun’s sister. At first they had been standoffish, until Bhandu had called Kunal a “cat-eyed, boring, no-fun lump of clay” and Reha had laughed. That seemed to break the ice and absolve her of actually being Dharmdev, which Kunal thought was a bit unfair. He hadn’t framed Esha. But he wasn’t about to bring that up to Bhandu, not when he had a knife on him.

  “Harun will be there. Your father wrote saying he wanted to come, but we couldn’t allow him,” Bhandu said to Reha.

  Kunal noticed the way Reha’s jaw tightened. “Of course. He is the king, and we are in uncertain times,” she said.

  Bhandu nodded, though he looked disappointed. “He can’t leave the capital when Vardaan is still on the run. He’s readying the Dharkan army, just in case. He said he hopes to send troops and supplies as soon as he can.”

  “Makes sense,” Reha said, nodding. She rubbed her shackles absentmindedly in a gesture that Kunal had come to recognize as worry.

  Kunal pushed his shoulders back, straightening his spine. The palace meant that they would be brought to Harun. The prince would be glad to see his sister, no matter what chaos she had caused. Not so for the Fort soldier.

  “Does he know?” Reha asked quietly. “That I was Dharmdev?”

  “I don’t think he’ll hold it against you until we hear your story,” Bhandu said.

  Kunal grunted at that.

  “Something to say, cat eyes?” Bhandu asked, turning in his saddle.

  “How forgiving we are of someone who orchestrated the framing of your dear Viperess. Almost had her killed,” Kunal said.

  Bhandu paled a bit. He hadn’t quite put that together, had he? Kunal cared for Reha—it was hard not to after weeks teaching her how to shift—but she still had a past that was unaccounted for.

  Reha glared at him. She squared her shoulders, much like Kunal had done moments ago.

  “I take responsibility for my past actions,” she said. “But they don’t define my future.”

  Kunal glanced wearily at her. If only he could feel the same way about his own.

  Kunal searched for Esha in every corner, convincing himself he saw a glimpse of her curls, her bright eyes, the minute they entered the Pink Palace. Bhandu led them through the eastern gate, away from the center of the city. Kunal couldn’t help but wonder if she’d even look for him.

  Esha would see him. She knew him. She knew that he wouldn’t have ever left her, not unless the world was at stake.

  He held out that hope until he and Reha were tossed into the throne room. The towering eagle throne of the ancient Queens of Jansa dominated the space, demanding attention.

  Reha looked around in openmouthed awe.

  Even Kunal took a step back to take it all in. He’d never been in here, even when on patrol as a Senap. It had been off-limits when Vardaan had been king, and now it seemed haunted.

  He glanced over at Reha. This would be her throne one day. She started picking at her shackles again. There was fear in her eyes, but Kunal knew she had given up much to be here. She had left it all behind and made her choice.

  Kunal had just never realized he had too.

  The door to the side creaked open, and a man in an official-looking turban bustled in, two Blades in Crescent silver armor not far behind. He caught sight of them and then stopped in his tracks.

  “Kunal?”

  Alok looked different from before, healthy and flush. Leadership suited him. He strode over to Kunal and had him wrapped in an embrace in seconds.

  “You’re safe,” Alok whispered, tears at the corners of his eyes. “It didn’t work?”

  “No, it didn’t,” Reha said to his side.

  Alok looked up and over at her, his face impassive. “Princess Reha, I presume?”

  “Just Reha for now,” she said. Reha waved around her shackles. “Are these necessary?”

  “It was ordered.” Alok looked chagrined.

  “By who?” Kunal asked. “Can we talk to them? Is it the prince?”

  Who was in charge? If he could tell their story, perhaps he c
ould ease over Reha’s path, maybe even his own. Esha had always said stories had as much or more power than brute strength.

  Alok hesitated. “I’m not sure they’re going to be so amenable. I know your heart was in the right place, Kunal, but . . .”

  Even Alok thought he had made a bad call.

  “Ah, well, you’ll see,” he said. Kunal gave him a pleading glance when the door flew open again.

  And Esha walked right in.

  Esha was rather annoyed after her meeting with the Scales. Laksh and Zhyani were demanding to be let in on the meetings she was holding with Mayank and some of the city councilors and guild leaders. She had tried to delicately point out that they were already having difficulty giving the appearance that nothing was amiss in the palace and having all of them in a simple trade meeting might arouse suspicion. Servants loved to gossip.

  Most of the city believed that Reha was here. And that she was in charge. Esha thought she played the role well enough, especially with the help of strategically placed uttariyas and veils. It was just that she didn’t want to play it.

  Once they had Reha back, they could talk about their inclusion into meetings. And that day was today.

  “Bhandu,” she said. “Please stop hovering.” Esha affected her kindest but sharpest tone, like that of a schoolmaster. Bhandu had been trailing after her since he had returned, as if she needed a bit of extra care. He moved maybe an inch away and held the door open for her to enter the hallway to the throne room.

  “I’ve been gone for a few weeks, and I come back to you looking as if you haven’t slept in days. Weeks,” he said.

  “I haven’t slept,” Esha said, “since we rescued Harun. I’ve been watching over him.”

  “By yourself?”

  “I have to,” she said. “I can’t trust anyone else.”

  Bhandu looked as if he was about to object but then gave a short nod. “Maids.”

  “Exactly. I can’t get rid of the numerous ones we have, but I have no idea how loyal they’ll be. Until Harun is back on his feet, it will be me and any other Blades. If news gets out that Harun isn’t well, it will cause turmoil. We already have one throne’s succession in question. We can’t make it any easier for the Yavar.”