The Chariot at Dusk

by Swati Teerdhala

  Kunal and Arpiya approached the left of the altar. She reached forward, touching the stone lightly and Kunal did the same, searching for notches or anything that might indicate a hole for a lamp.

  There.

  Kunal felt a rough engraving under his fingers, different from the rest. He pushed at it and stepped back as the whole block of stone in front of him groaned. Arpiya scrambled back as well. A similar groan of stone resounded from their right, where Laksh and Bhandu had found the other side.

  The stone opened up to reveal a small cube of dark, empty space.

  “Are we supposed to reach our hands in there?” Arpiya shook her head. “Not happening.”

  “I’ll do it.” Kunal transformed his hand into a talon and reached in, ignoring the initial prickings of fear. He felt nothing at first, then, slowly, the smooth shape of something. He pulled the lamp out carefully, taking care not to bang it against the sides.

  He placed the lamp in the center of his palm. It was made of ceramic and, by the sparks of light that glimmered into the dark hall, what looked like sun stone.

  “We found it,” Arpiya called over. “We cursed well found it.”

  Kunal was so glad he could kiss the ground.

  He tucked the lamp into his pack, nestling it within the softness of an old uttariya.

  “Let’s move,” he said to the others. “We’ve just stepped into a centuries-old temple, one that’s crumbling, and I don’t want to wait to see if we’re to be the last ones to ever step foot in it.”

  Laksh looked around. “I agree. Let’s get out of here and celebrate where our voices might not bring two tons of stone down on us.”

  They crept silently out of the main hall, away from the altar, moving as fast as they could without disturbing the ruins. Kunal came out into the old courtyard before the others, the mild sun blinding after being encased in darkness.

  Kunal stopped there, listening for the others, and sagged against the sturdy marble pillar near him. A shuffling sound of feet, heavy and uncertain, came at him.

  “I’m over here. If you need help or need to slow down, you can just say it,” Kunal said to the others.

  “Shut up, Kunal,” came Laksh’s voice from down the corridor.

  Kunal grinned, feeling lighter than he had in days. They had found the lamp, and it was safely in their possession. Things were looking up.

  A rush of relief flooded through him, stronger than he had anticipated. He hadn’t realized how much all of this had been weighing on him, the ritual failing, the hunt for the artifacts.

  Nearby, a flock of sunbirds landed all over the uneven stones, cawing and chirping insistently. They looked familiar. There had been so few animals on their journey here that it wasn’t hard to remember. Something poked at his memory. Hadn’t there been a flock of sunbirds at the supply outpost too?

  Laksh soon tumbled out of the corridor, rubbing his temple and casting a dirty look toward Kunal. His lanky frame was covered in a white film of dust, and he had a small bruise on his upper arm.

  The footsteps continued, even as Laksh came to a stop in front of him.

  Kunal sprang to his feet just as a sword sliced through the air, exactly where he had been leaning.

  It was an ambush.

  Chapter 18

  The ship Esha and the others had chartered was small and somewhat rickety, but it served their purpose. The captain had thought they were moon touched, but once he had seen the bag of gold they had to offer, he changed his mind. Still, he refused to come with them, which was fine by Esha. One less person to worry about.

  The four of them crewed the boat themselves. They didn’t have far to cross, but for all her adventures and all she had done so far in her short life, Esha wasn’t one for boats.

  She leaned over the railing of the small boat, letting the wind caress her skin and toss her hair about, and focused on the horizon. It’s the only way she could deal with the toss and turn of her stomach as the boat caught the waves.

  Silence hung peacefully between the four of them as they rode into the middle of the Jyos tributary, turning their boat in a direction that none of the others were going. The wind caught them and guided them along, no sign of Yavar ships on the horizon. They had arrived here first, before Yamini. A small blessing from the Moon Lord.

  Alok waved a hand in the air to beckon the group over. Esha left her spot near the edge of the boat and gingerly walked over, making sure to hang on to the railing as much as she could. The boat lurched unsteadily now that they were in the center of the Jyos tributary, where the two rivers clashed and melded.

  Esha chanced a glance over the railing. The green and blue streams of water mixed together in a way that was spectacular and otherworldly, a combination of the gods. Had the land been more like this before the wars the humans started?

  Esha could imagine it. The sharp, bursting colors of life that had filled the land. Magic, and yet not magic at all. A gift. One humanity had treated with thoughtless abandon.

  Perhaps this was a punishment they deserved. Perhaps this was the way of the gods.

  Esha snapped out of her bleak thoughts. Whether humanity deserved it or not, it was her job to change things, even if they had to call down the gods themselves. She wouldn’t let Yamini set the terms of the land for her people.

  “Woolgathering?” Harun tapped her on her shoulder, and Esha turned.

  “Can you blame me?”

  “It’s been a long few weeks,” he said softly. He reached out an arm to her, and Esha took it gratefully. He helped her the rest of the way, allowing her to lean on him. “I forgot that our little Viper hates boats.”

  She glanced up, frowning. “I’m not sure I approved of this nickname.”

  Harun chuckled. “I like it. Makes the idea of the Viper a little less scary.”

  “The point is to be scary, Harun. To drive fear into the hearts of my enemies,” she said fiercely. Then she leaned over the railing and hurled everything that had been in her stomach.

  “Yes, yes. You still do all of that,” Harun said. He had held back her hair and let it down as she straightened. He offered her his waterskin and she took it gratefully.

  “Never mention that to anyone. On pain of dismemberment,” Esha said, wiping her mouth.

  Harun nodded solemnly. “Of course, my little Viper.”

  Esha made a face at him.

  To their right, Alok jumped up and down. “We’re here, and I see something.”

  They joined him, Esha glancing back nervously at Reha on the prow. How did the girl know how to ride a boat? There were depths to her that would take a while to unravel.

  “Guess we didn’t need my blood after all!” Reha shouted over. “But make it quick. The tide is picking up.”

  They leaned over the railing, and at the seam of the two rivers was a tall jagged rock at the bottom. It jutted out and would have appeared commonplace, except for the dotted stars etched around it, similar to the symbol they had seen on the map and in the temple.

  “It can’t be that easy,” Esha said.

  “How is this easy?” Alok said. “One of us will have to go get it.”

  Esha blanched.

  “I’ll go,” Harun said.

  Esha shook her head sharply.

  “I’ve always been a strong swimmer,” he said.

  “No. Harun, you cannot—”

  Harun stripped off his turban and uttariya and without a glance behind, got up on the rail and jumped into the water. Esha and Alok shouted, exchanging terrified looks.

  “I cannot go back and tell the king that I lost his only son and heir to a river!” Alok said frantically. “And Farhan! He would never forgive me!”

  “What are you talking about? King Mahir will have my head,” Esha said.

  “You’re both overreacting,” Reha said from behind. “It looks like my brother is doing quite well.”

  Alok and Esha both looked over. Harun was swimming against the current, his strong body carving through the wat
er with powerful movements. He was a good swimmer.

  Harun reached the rock. “What now?” he yelled at them.

  “Perhaps we should’ve discussed that before you jumped in the water!” Esha yelled back.

  Harun only grinned back at them, one precarious arm wrapped around the rock.

  “Try your blood,” she said.

  “Or a truth,” Alok said.

  “How in the Sun Maiden’s name does one offer a truth?” Reha muttered from behind them.

  Harun tried cutting his forearm on the rock first.

  Nothing happened.

  When it stayed the same after a few minutes, he leaned forward, looked around uncertainly, and whispered something into the center of the symbol on the rock.

  Within seconds, the rock began to glow and shake, almost tossing Harun off. Esha let out a scream and rushed to the edge of the deck.

  The water rose up and crashed down with terrifying speed. Esha tried to count out the rhythm—something—but it kept changing.

  She tried to reach back for a rope, but Alok caught her.

  “Oh, no you don’t. Kunal would murder me if anything happened to you.”

  “I have to get to him,” she said frantically. “The water—it’s—”

  “Esha, you can’t help him. I know you want to tie yourself to the prow with the rope and jump in, but the water will hold you back.”

  Esha stopped in her tracks. “How did you know that?”

  “It’s what Kunal would’ve done,” was all Alok said.

  The mention of the soldier made her start moving again, faster and more frantic.

  Esha lunged forward to the end of the deck, fighting against the wind gales from the water. The waves began to rise higher the closer she got, whirring into a deafening din of wind and water.

  “Esha, wait! Look at what it’s doing right now!” Alok yelled.

  The water began to split around the rock, creating a small perch for Harun to stand on.

  Esha took a step back, and Alok grabbed her by the arm, pulling her safely away from the edge of the ship.

  Harun took an uncertain step before rising to his feet and reaching over onto the rock. He traced the symbol with his finger and stared at it a second before giving it a push. The rock vibrated and the central part of it broke free, showcasing a small wooden box that had been hidden. And in it was an ivory conch, shining and glowing as if it was the moon itself.

  He reached in and wrapped his hands around the conch.

  Esha ran over to Reha. “Pull us closer.”

  “I can’t get that much closer,” she said. “I’m already struggling to keep us steady.”

  “We need to get closer,” Esha said. “Because once that water comes rushing back in . . .”

  Reha tensed in understanding. “I need you to go to the sail. Pull it as taut as you can.”

  Esha ran over and, with the help of Alok, pulled the sail tight. The ship careened to the left, pushing them into the currents around the rock.

  Harun’s hands were still wrapped around the conch, but he hadn’t removed it from the case yet.

  “Don’t!” Esha yelled. Harun tensed but stopped.

  The ship pulled even closer.

  Just another minute. And then . . .

  “Now!”

  Harun pulled the conch away and dove away from the water, close to the ship. Esha lowered a rope into the water. Harun was swimming closer, but the waves that had parted for him were now building into a small tsunami behind him.

  He only needed to grab ahold of the rope.

  Esha let the rope down farther, trying to guide it into the direction Harun was swimming. He was so close.

  Harun reached out—and missed. Esha cursed, promising herself that she’d kill him herself if he didn’t make it onto the boat.

  Esha slackened and tossed the rope once more, and this time, Harun grabbed the end of it. He tugged on it, and Esha almost rammed into the railing of the ship, holding as tight as she could.

  Her muscles ached with the strain, and her face was lashed by the salty sea spray, but she gritted her teeth and held steady. The river would not claim him.

  Alok rushed over and helped her hold the rope tight as Harun climbed up it and Reha navigated them out of the way of the mini tsunami.

  “Hold on,” Reha said.

  Harun crashed onto the deck, helped over by Alok. Esha fell into a heap beside him, both of them lying faceup and panting on the ship deck. Water streamed off them, seeping into everything nearby.

  “Now that you’re safe I can tell you in no uncertain terms that if you ever try anything like that again”—she coughed violently—“I will murder you.”

  “Don’t. Worry.” He sounded worse. “I think that was enough adventure for another few months.”

  “Esha’s right,” Reha said, collapsing back as she let go of the wheel. It stayed steady. “If you do that again, brother, I will help her murder you. You don’t get to die before telling me that story you promised. You know, the one about how you escaped from that mob of monkeys near that temple. We had a deal.”

  Harun kept coughing, but he also hid a smile that Esha didn’t miss.

  Chapter 19

  Kunal leaped backward, dodging the next swipe of his attacker’s blade. To the left, Laksh dealt with his own assailant, his double swords out and swinging wildly. Sounds of fighting and a yelp came from farther down the corridor, where Bhandu and Arpiya had been moments before.

  Kunal ducked the blade again. The floor of the temple ruins was rocky and strewn with roots, rife for him to trip over at any moment. He needed to go on the offensive.

  But the knife at his hip would be no match for the heavy sword being thrust at him. Kunal leaped and rammed into the Yavar man, who hadn’t stopped for even a second.

  His attacks were relentless, and Kunal had to finally roll away to escape him. He unleashed his talons and slashed at his attacker’s face. The man cried out and dropped to his knees.

  Bhandu and Arpiya were facing off with their own attackers, both Yavar by the looks of their furs and the method of their attacks: quick, darting blows that barely allowed their opponents a chance to respond, let alone recover.

  Laksh was battling off two Yavar in the corner. Kunal hefted a block of stone and threw it at one of them. It crumbled on top of his head, crushing him below. Laksh took advantage of the moment to stab one of his swords into the side of the other Yavar, a tall woman. She went down with a furious yelp.

  “That is an enviable power,” he said with ragged breaths, looking down at Kunal’s rock-dust-covered hands.

  Bhandu and Arpiya had forced their two attackers to the edge of the uneven terrain, where the rocks dropped off a steep cliff. Arpiya sent one Yavar flying over the rocks. Bhandu caught his attacker and gave Arpiya a questioning look. She shrugged. Bhandu nodded and threw his attacker over too.

  They ran over to Kunal and Laksh, temple dust mixing with sweat on their faces, and formed a tight semicircle.

  “We should’ve expected it.” Arpiya shook her head, looking out to the jungle in front of them. “I knew it was too easy.”

  Two of the attackers got back to their feet and shouts filled the air. Five more Yavar ran into the temple’s broken courtyard.

  “Spoken too soon,” Kunal said.

  Three more Yavar came from behind, and Kunal whirled around, his talons out, his knife clasped in one hand.

  “An ambush would mean we had been waiting in hiding for you,” a voice said. Yamini walked in front of the row of Yavar, a splendid silver fur across her shoulders. “You led us here.”

  “Popping out of the forest to attack us is about the same thing, Lady Yamini,” Arpiya said.

  “It worked, didn’t it?” Yamini shrugged, twirling the spear in her hand. “We’ve been tracking you since you entered the jungle. Earlier in fact.” Yamini glanced over at the flock of sunbirds, which were flying toward her and the little piece of cloth she had in her hand. She threw the
cloth a few paces away and the sunbirds rushed to the spot.

  “Ostra oil,” Kunal said sharply. “How? When did you get it on me?” He knew he had seen those sunbirds before.

  “Your scabbard.” Yamini smiled. “The temple.”

  Kunal swore. He should’ve remembered that the Yavar used tricks in their warfare, like this oil that helped them track whoever they wanted. It had started as a way to keep track of their horses before there were fences, but it was widely used by some of the clans now to monitor their army’s movements.

  “Do you think we didn’t know you’d be looking as well?” she said. “Especially after you took the bait and took your prince back?”

  “A poor bait if we got what we wanted and you didn’t,” Arpiya said. She stood tall, inching away from the nearest Yavar and her spear.

  “You have no understanding of what we want. The prince was simply a tool, but we had no need for him anymore once we found your lovely princess.” Yamini faced Kunal and held out a hand. “If you give the lamp to me now, I’ll leave your friends alive.”

  “We’ve found nothing,” Arpiya said, stepping in front of him. Her voice grew hot and fiery. “And it’s not as if we’d give you anything even if we did. You’ll bring chaos to this land, killing hundreds, thousands. Our lives are nothing compared to that.”

  “So you do have it,” Yamini said, her face melting into a pleased expression. “Relieve them of the lamp.”

  One of the Yavar jumped forward and rammed into Kunal, knocking his pack to the ground. The lamp tumbled out.

  “No!”

  Kunal wasn’t sure whose voice that was—all of them lunged forward at the same time, trying to prevent the inevitable. A wiry Yavar man got to the lamp first and swiped it into his hands.

  Kunal rushed forward, but two Yavar blocked off his exit with spears pointed at his throat. He backed off, as did the others.

  “Smart choice, Kunal,” Yamini said, backing away.

  One of the Yavar tripped as they walked, stumbling backward and dropping his spear.

  Kunal took that tiny window of opportunity to shift, unfurling wings so large they could eclipse two men. He knocked down two Yavar and flew into two others, jamming them into the nearest tree until he heard a crunch.