The Chariot at Dusk

by Swati Teerdhala

  Harun had protected her from so much of the burden and monotony of running a rebel group—or a palace. And Reha . . . Reha was another problem, as if Esha didn’t have enough already. Aside from her suspicions, Reha was having a rough go at her princess lessons. Esha knew she had told Harun she would get her to stay, but how did you convince someone to become a princess, a queen? Give up her life for her people, sacrifice her future for her land?

  Not all of them were Kunal.

  Even now, a small part of her admired Kunal, resented Kunal, for that honor. He looked his duty in the eye without flinching. Esha felt as if she were being dragged to hers, especially today.

  The idea of days with Kunal left her feeling both hot and cold with equal measure. Their kiss after the emergency council was decidedly more than friendly. They were on a knife’s edge here.

  She shaded her eyes as she looked out over the rooftop and out to the waking city below. She’d been in Gwali for nearly two moons now, the longest she’d been on one mission in a long time. If one could call it simply a mission.

  This was her life now.

  She told herself that was the only reason she had agreed to scout the City of Gold with Kunal. Esha liked to think she had the ability to put the mission first.

  A thud landed behind her.

  Esha turned and lifted a hand in greeting before returning to her task, sanding the nicks out of her knives.

  Kunal was in armor again, except this time, it was painted Crescent silver. It suited him, actually, a pleasant contrast to his dark skin. What had surprised her was the readiness with which he had agreed to wear it when only a moon ago he had bristled at the idea of even being called a Crescent Blade. Only a moon ago they had disappeared into the streets of Gwali to celebrate Chinarath.

  Kunal walked over and crouched next to her, grabbing the sand to treat his own weapons. His hair was long now, longer than she had seen it before, and it curled softly at the edges.

  Esha’s body tightened at his closeness, memories flooding her skin. She hated that he looked good in this armor, that it reminded her of whispered words across a vast hall or stolen moments under darkened marble archways. She hated the angles of his jaw and the scar that attempted to mar the perfection of his lips and failed.

  The impulse that made her want to reach out, trace the outline of the scar. Bring her face closer to his.

  She coughed and rose to her feet quickly, startling Kunal, who looked up at her in question with those stupid amber eyes.

  “We should leave soon, before first light is over.”

  Kunal nodded tightly and rose to his feet. “Agreed. The sooner we get there the sooner we can get back. Are you ready?”

  His hand grazed her arm as he rose, as if he had forgotten that they didn’t do that anymore, that they weren’t that anymore. He pulled away, hunching into his armor.

  There was a foot of space between them and Esha was already regretting her choice. That heat. It was already seeping into her bones and he wasn’t even touching her. And when his fingers brushed her skin, Esha wanted to step back, to run away.

  It was like a spark under her skin, hotter even because of all the unsaid words.

  “Esha?”

  She realized she hadn’t responded to his last question, whether she was ready. She wasn’t. Esha wasn’t ready to be near him, let alone to be wrapped in his arms.

  “I’m ready.” She grinned, bright and too cheery. Kunal frowned at her. He knew her too well.

  “It might not be like the last time we flew. And I’ll have to touch you. . . .”

  “Some of us are aware of the consequences of our actions, soldier,” she snapped. Her mask went up, around herself and her heart, leaving only the heat. “Anyway, we were always good at that part. Just bad at everything else.”

  “Esha, don’t do that,” he started.

  “Do what?” she challenged, stepping closer to him, her chin jutting out. This game she could play. Even if it felt like a hundred steps back, it was a comfortable dance.

  “You know exactly what.” Kunal reached out and pulled her close. Esha fell into him and he encircled her with his arms, his very skin on fire against her own. She looked up at him and her breath caught at the intensity in his eyes. It flickered with heat, desire, and something deeper, something that scared her.

  Friends? She was an idiot. They could never be just friends.

  In seconds they were in the air, the wind screaming at their back and gusting around them. Kunal held her tightly, and despite hanging on to him like a barnacle, she felt safe in his arms. She opened her eyes and marveled at him.

  Man and supernatural. His eagle wings were as broad as four men and seemed as if they had always been a part of him.

  “Amazing,” she whispered in awe.

  The training sessions with King Mahir had helped Kunal to control his powers, but they’d done something else too. Kunal flew with confidence, his powers now part of him instead of foreign. And she had missed it all happening. There were big secrets they both kept, but Esha wondered if somehow these smaller ones, these tiny changes, were worse.

  Kunal grinned down at her. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

  “Try me.” She was always up for a challenge.

  “If you’re sure.”

  He sped up until the wind was like a whirlwind around her and took her higher up.

  “Open your eyes, Esha.”

  She opened one eye and almost gasped, only remembering at the last second that it was unbecoming for the Viper. Though in Kunal’s arms she was never more than Esha, despite what she wanted. She wanted to hate him, so badly.

  But here, in his arms, she had to admit to herself that she wanted to love him just as fiercely. If there was still time.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said.

  Esha reached out a hand into a cloud that passed them, its chill covering her fingers instantly. Kunal pulled her tighter against him as they sailed through another cloud, one filled with droplets of rain just barely condensed together. Esha was damp when they exited, but she didn’t care. She laughed, a smile breaking free onto her face.

  Kunal’s wings slowed, and he looked down at her. Their faces were inches apart and Esha hadn’t felt happier in weeks, months. Being up here made her think that maybe they should stay up here forever, the two of them, never to deal with the realities of the world below.

  Perhaps here they could find each other again. Repair their wounds.

  Her breath came in shorter and she considered leaning and closing the gap. What would happen if she kissed him, here, right now? Would he say no again?

  Kunal and Esha hovered there, but she was the one to pull away, turn her head back toward the ground below. The Viper had no fear; except for the eagle, it appeared.

  Looking down immediately made her dizzy but not enough to miss the look of disappointment in his eyes. “We’re almost there,” he said quietly.

  The Viper was smart, cunning, wily.

  But Esha?

  Esha was only human.

  Kunal flew them to the ground. He put Esha down first and made sure she had a firm foot on the ground before he landed. He didn’t remove the arm he had around her waist and she didn’t make any sudden moves to run away from him, unlike earlier.

  Finally, there was no reason for him to keep holding on. Of course, he could think of plenty of reasons, from the soft curve of her hip to the way her lower back fit into the palms of his hands or the way she fit under his chin.

  All of those things that Esha didn’t care about anymore. She always did that, switched to the physical, used the desire they both clearly felt as a weapon, a wall.

  Esha brushed off her sari, coughing lightly into her fist. A film of awkwardness settled over them, which had never been the case before. Not when they were chasing each other, or trying to kill each other, or after.

  It was a new equilibrium. Kunal didn’t want it.

  He heard rather than saw the change in her demeano
r that indicated the moment before was over. “Let’s go,” Esha said. “There’s no time to waste.”

  She checked her weapons and pack, her Viper mask coming back on inch by inch, and took off into the jungle, assuming he would follow.

  Kunal bit back a sigh and took up the rear. He couldn’t take his eyes off her no matter how much he tried. He told himself he was just savoring this, one of the last times they might spend together. He painted her in his mind like he always did, the determination in her jaw as she muttered to herself about what direction to go in, the way her hair seemed to defy the constraints of the braid she wore. The sway of her hips, the curve of her cheek, the way she licked her lips when in thought.

  It was only this deep observation that allowed him to see the one thing that made the heaviness in his heart lighten. He saw when she turned around, casting a glance at him behind her.

  For just a second.

  Esha stepped through the unruly, rocky terrain, hopping from flat stone to next. Kunal followed behind her, nimble for someone with wings cascading out of his back.

  They had reached the hardest part of their trek, where Kunal couldn’t carry them. The terrain was too uneven and he couldn’t fly them for fear of being seen. His strength so far had helped them move quickly, as had Esha’s ability to grin and bear his touch. Or at least, that was what she was telling herself. Sometimes it was easier to lie to oneself than to anyone else.

  Her thoughts drifted to the soldier behind her with alarming frequency, especially after she had caught him staring at her. She would’ve felt self-conscious except that his attention on her seemed to give her confidence. Added a sway to her step.

  They’d gotten by with as minimal words as possible since they had landed, except for a brief respite the night before. They had come across a banyan tree and spent the night there again and something about it—the memories of their first night in the Tej, the softness in his eyes as he asked if she needed water or if she was tired—it loosened the strings around her talk. They had fallen asleep talking, like before. At the memory now, Esha felt something relax in her. Maybe she was making this too difficult.

  Esha motioned to Kunal as she maneuvered over a particularly tricky section, pointing to the instabilities in the rock. Finally, they got to the rock face they had seen earlier, the last obstacle.

  She started the climb, Kunal to her left. He took to the climbing like a fish in water. Esha was unsurprised. Her lemon boy had always loved climbing to the highest turrets in the palace. Why would this be any different?

  Esha glanced down and caught a glimpse of the jungle canopy below, green and gold, though dimmer than ever before. It was the last defense of foliage before the land gave way to the desert and the sand beyond.

  She reached up, the rock above her holding firm as she tested, and then dug her hand in to pull herself up, the strain on her muscles welcome after weeks of being in the palace. Esha looked down for a second but pulled her head back sharply, dizziness engulfing her. The tops of the trees below felt as if they were leagues away and the change made her stomach suddenly drop.

  She turned her attention back up, and soon, she caught up with Kunal. They both heaved themselves over the mountain ledge at the same time. Esha tumbled into Kunal, who was just getting to his feet, and they rolled over a few times before coming to a stop as they hit a fallen log. She ended up sprawled on top of him.

  The unexpected contact made her entire body flush and a warm heat pulsate through her limbs. Did he have to be so cursed handsome?

  “This feels familiar,” Esha said under her breath, but of course, Kunal heard.

  He turned his face up and grinned at her. “Very. All we need is sticky tar.”

  Kunal wrapped his hands around her as Esha moved to get up, preventing her from moving. He leaned forward and she thought he might kiss her, her heart seizing in terror—or want, she couldn’t tell.

  But he simply took the curl that had escaped her braid and tucked it back into the coils, or tried to. Her hair had a mind of its own.

  Kunal pulled them both up in one swift motion and the moment he let go of her Esha scooted away. Or at least she was going to, but the soldier took hold of her hand.

  “Stay close,” he said.

  “Do you think I need protection?” she said, scoffing. “I know these parts well.”

  “Oh no, I’m the one who needs protection,” he said. Kunal tilted his head, his lips curving into a grin. “So you can’t leave.”

  Esha snorted. “That’s preposterous. You, with those huge wings?”

  His wings flattened against his body, almost as if in response.

  She grumbled and started to move but let him keep her hand, tugging at him to follow. A few minutes later, Esha and Kunal came to a halt. This mountain was the center of the circle Farhan had marked on the map.

  Below them to their right, laid out on the edge of ruby-red cliffs, was the Red Fortress. They glanced at each other but didn’t say anything. The memories said it all.

  To their left was open coastline, and the possibility of the City of Gold.

  Chapter 30

  The wind buffeted Kunal’s wings as he traveled over the coast of Dharka, past where Jansa and Dharka joined.

  He had left Esha behind to do the legwork of scouting on land, knowing that flying would be far more efficient for the coastline. And far less dangerous. Esha might be the Viper, but the sailors of the Ilyasa Port weren’t known to be friendly.

  He eased into the nearest airstream and enjoyed the feeling of weightlessness that always followed. Kunal always did enjoy this part of flying. The freedom was unparalleled and nothing compared in his human form. In some ways, he had been searching for this feeling since he was a child. Perhaps he had known even then, on some level, what was in his blood.

  Kunal wheeled lower to the ground in his eagle form, gliding along a low airstream near the coast of Dharka. He turned his attention to the strip of gold beach that separated the land from the blue below. The map indicated that the temple was right off the coast, near a jutting rock formation.

  Kunal spotted a string of rocks that looked like sharp, taloned fingers pointing straight up into the sky. Esha had said this area was considered unlucky for sailors, and most traders and fishermen avoided it, which made sense to him now. If one got too close to those jagged rocks, it would be the end for their ship—or for them. But he was curious if there was something more to the warnings. Something supernatural.

  The wind shifted and Kunal leaned in, letting the change in direction bring him closer to the rocks and the ocean below. He wasn’t quite sure what he was looking for.

  Kunal sharpened his hearing, picking out the sounds of seagulls above, the crash of waves below, the whistle of the wind, and listened for more. At first, there was nothing. But then—Kunal picked up the slightest of pulses, a deep, buried, watery song.

  His eyes flew open just as a gust of wind blew him off pace and sent him soaring into the rock formation. He flapped his wings with all his strength and broke away as fast as he could.

  There had been a song. An ancient, dangerous one. Buried deep beneath the crashing waves of water below, just out of reach of his hearing. He couldn’t pinpoint where the song had come from, not without returning to get closer to those rocks, but he had heard it.

  Perhaps the sailors were right, and the rocks were merely unlucky.

  But Kunal had felt something when he had flown above those rocks, where the song was strongest.

  A presence.

  The Drowned City of Gold.

  They returned to the palace a few days later and called for a meeting immediately. Kunal reported back what he found as soon as he could, after corroborating it with Farhan. The location he and Esha had found fit perfectly with the map from the copper scroll and once they had overlaid the location as the center, everything fell into place.

  “Be careful not to make any marks,” Farhan said from his spot.

  Laksh peered over
Kunal’s shoulder. “Didn’t he say not to make any marks?”

  Kunal jumped and turned to glare at the other man. “I didn’t until you startled me.”

  Laksh snickered. Kunal rolled his eyes and turned back to his work just as Alok came into the room. Laksh’s face brightened when he saw that Arpiya was close behind.

  “Have I mentioned how happy I am that you two are speaking again?” Alok said.

  “Once or twice,” Kunal muttered.

  While Kunal normally loved the company, he also was growing irritated by the increasing number of people streaming into and out of the Great Library when he was finally close to overlaying the map onto a proper scroll. With some peace he could sketch out the other land markers and chart a path for them to take. Every moment they wasted was one Yamini could use.

  Arpiya made her way over to help Kunal and he looked at her gratefully, passing her a compass and a piece of chalk. This was the boring part of campaigns that Alok and Laksh had always hated, where you made your plans and checked and rechecked. He didn’t want to take any chances this time.

  Laksh bent over the table near Arpiya, leaning close to her and whispering something into her ear. She giggled, which was enough in itself to concern Kunal, but he figured she could take care of herself. And Laksh had seemed to keep his word. He had only his best self for Arpiya and she seemed to like him even at his worst. Kunal had overheard them speaking of the best ways to deceive someone at cards at dinner the previous night.

  “How can I help?” Alok asked.

  Kunal sighed and straightened, using the moment to stretch his aching hands. “I need all those scrolls organized and the distances confirmed so I can complete this map.”

  “On it,” Alok said, surprising Kunal. How much they had all changed in these past six moons.

  “Are you ready?” Alok asked, his voice quieting as he sorted the scrolls. “For tomorrow? I know Esha is anxious to leave, get to the city first.”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be. I can’t help but admit that I can’t wait till this is all over.”