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The Chariot at Dusk

Page 25

by Swati Teerdhala


  “Me too,” Alok said. “I miss my bed.”

  Kunal laughed at that.

  Tomorrow, they would be one step closer to saving the land. And for the first time, Kunal could see the dream as a reality.

  They just had to make it through.

  Chapter 31

  Esha woke to the noise of ringing bells. She shot up in her bed and threw off the covers, racing to the windows.

  The palace was on fire.

  Flames rose from the outer side of the southwest corner, near the western gate. It didn’t seem to have reached the palace proper yet, but if it kept going unchecked it would certainly take over the gardens and the western wing.

  Esha tugged her weapons out from their hiding place under her pillows and strapped them into her waist sash as quick as she could. A glance outside told her that everyone was rushing to the fire, to contain it most likely.

  Esha took a sharp turn left away and ran toward the eastern part of the palace. She trusted her team. They’d soon realize that fire wasn’t common at this time of year, especially with the amount of moisture in the air. That it was sabotage. They would contain the fire and they would deal with the threat to the palace’s and its residents’ safety.

  She pumped her legs faster, willing them to carry her to the one place she suspected did need protection.

  Esha veered sharply into the Great Library, spotting the small locked chest tucked into one of the shelves. She didn’t move toward it, especially when she heard the shuffle of feet paces away.

  “I was hoping to find you,” a voice said from behind her.

  Esha turned around, her hands at her weapons.

  Yamini was decked in dark clothing, her trademark furs replaced by a loose linen uttariya thrown over her shoulders and head. It was a nice attempt, but the heir to the Yavar throne was not someone that could be easily forgotten. Her lips curved into a smile and Esha thought maybe she saw a glimmer of true joy at seeing Esha again.

  There had been a moment when Esha had believed them friends.

  She had believed a lot of wrong things.

  “I won’t let you—”

  “Esha, it’s not that I don’t like you. But I can’t let my people down, not when we have a chance to fulfill the promise of the ballads of Vasu. So I’ll do whatever it takes to get that scroll. Including going through you.”

  The scroll? Esha blanched as she realized what Yamini wanted. Not the artifacts but the copper scroll. Their map to the City of Gold.

  “Good luck,” Esha said, standing her ground. “Going through me won’t be that easy.”

  “You Southern Landers never appreciated what you had,” Yamini said. “You destroyed it for power and greed. And now you’ve finally discovered the City of Gold. You’ve been behind this whole time, bickering and fighting and destroying yourselves. Why should you find the city? Why should you remake the world?” Her words were bursting with deep-seated anger. But Yamini quickly recovered, her face once again placid as a lake.

  “That’s a nice little speech,” Esha said.

  She kept underestimating this woman. And if they already knew about the City of Gold, they were closer than she had thought. But it was also clear that Yamini didn’t know where it was, not just yet. Otherwise she wouldn’t be here trying to steal the copper scroll from them.

  “Who let you in?” Esha demanded.

  “Who said anyone did?”

  Esha walked closer to Yamini, her whips out and ready at her sides. “I’ve known for a while something was amiss. You found Kunal and Reha at the mountain and then again in the jungle.”

  Yamini rose an eyebrow. “Perhaps.”

  “Have you been working with Vardaan?” Esha asked.

  “No.” Yamini’s face was honest. “I haven’t thought about him since he failed to deliver the princess to us.”

  “Then—” Esha racked her brain. Vardaan had mentioned a mole. . . .

  A boom went off in the distance. A flash of panic crossed Yamini’s face, one that surprised Esha with its urgency. Something was going wrong.

  “Clearly you have a contact within the palace, someone who told you we’ve been keeping to the east wing. That’s why you set the fire to the west wing, didn’t you? To draw us out? Who is it?” Esha demanded.

  “I did as you said, Yamini. Now let’s get—”

  Zhyani walked into the room, carrying a long sword and a sack slung across her back.

  Kunal had sensed something amiss before the smoke had drifted into his room. In a minute he had donned his armor and run for Reha’s room to ensure their queen was safe.

  “It’s an attack,” she said when she saw him. She was already awake, her waist sash of knives tied around her hips. “Sulphur in those fumes.”

  Kunal nodded. “The army doesn’t use sulfur; they use camphor. It’s the Yavar.”

  They took off at a sprint toward the Great Library. Kunal’s heart sped faster at the thought of Esha in danger. As they drew closer they heard the crack of Esha’s whips—and voices.

  They turned the corner to see Esha facing off with Zhyani and Yamini. “Zhyani?” Esha’s voice wavered. “How could you do this? To the Scales?”

  Reha pushed forward, but Kunal swung out an arm to hold her back and shook his head.

  Zhyani gritted her teeth and swung her longsword around. She took a defensive stance. “You don’t understand, you’d never understand. Some of us don’t have a choice to let go of our past,” Zhyani said, standing her ground in front of Esha. She swallowed and stood tall. “Where is the copper scroll?”

  “Doesn’t matter if I understand. But will Reha?” Esha said, ignoring her question.

  Reha stumbled back, bracing herself against the doorframe. “No,” she whispered. “There has to be a reason.”

  Kunal squeezed her shoulder but didn’t say anything. His eyes were on Esha, and the enemy who had been plaguing them. “Stay here,” he said.

  He slunk back and decided to approach from the shelves behind Yamini. He stayed as silent as he could be.

  Esha still couldn’t believe it.

  Zhyani.

  Esha noticed the flicker of pain in Zhyani’s eyes and paired it with her previous words. Reha’s oldest friend wasn’t here by choice. Vardaan’s taunts had held truth in them, even if he had bent the truth to suit his needs.

  Not a mole for Vardaan but a betrayal nonetheless. Vardaan had known that Yamini had approached Zhyani. How?

  The answer came immediately. He had overheard them together, much like Harun had overheard Yamini’s plans, reminding Esha that yet again, it was easy to underestimate the powers of the royals when they were unseen. Esha knew they should’ve kept Vardaan in the blue-sapphire ropes—and put wax in his ears.

  “Zhyani, what did they threaten you with?” Esha said.

  “Nothing,” Zhyani said back viciously. But she had given herself away with a glance out the window, at the citadel. Esha remembered she had left the city with her team—perhaps an attempt to escape?

  “Your team,” Esha said softly. “You don’t have to do this.” She stepped closer. “I’ll get your team to safety. Reha—”

  “Just give it to her and let this be over. Please,” Zhyani said. There was a snarl of emotions in her voice. “The sooner you give it to her, the sooner we can get to the cistern. She caught me when I tried to leave, when I tried to stop all of this. I had just been so angry. . . .”

  The cistern? Esha could think of only one cistern. It lay beneath the citadel, directly under the dungeons.

  That must be where Zhyani’s team was being held right now.

  “Zhyani—” she said, trying to show the woman she understood, that they could work together.

  “Enough talk,” Yamini shouted.

  She yelled and lunged forward, her spear out. Esha dodged out of the way, ducking under the swing of her spear. Esha lashed her whips against the ground, leading Yamini to a more open part of the library, away from where the copper scroll was hidden.<
br />
  Esha dodged Yamini’s spear as she walked backward, leading her away. Her whips met the spear, but something about the spear itself repelled the tips of her weapons. They weren’t able to wrap around Yamini’s spear, and for the first time, Esha was at a loss.

  She began to aim for the woman instead.

  Esha was able to lash Yamini and she cried out, almost dropping her spear. But her training was solid and she managed to keep hold of it, even as Esha spun around and unleashed her whip again. This time it caught Yamini’s arm and the spear did clatter to the ground.

  But Yamini grabbed hold of the whip itself and tugged.

  Esha hurtled forward, falling to the ground. She let go of the whip and rolled out of the way as Yamini stabbed her spear down where Esha had been.

  She was strong, just as Esha had expected, and craftier than she thought. If only Yamini hadn’t turned out to be her enemy, they might have been actual friends.

  As Esha got up, Yamini caught her with a jab to her face. Esha narrowly turned away, only catching the edge of the punch. Esha flew back and hit the table, the sharp edge of it slicing into her back.

  Esha fell to the ground. She scrambled back on the floor, searching around for one of her whips, both of which evaded her.

  There. With a swift movement she rolled and caught her whip again. She rose to her feet, slower than before, and wiped the blood from her nose.

  “Why are we fighting, my lady?” Esha said, panting. “We could be on the same side.”

  “There is only one side. My own.”

  “That seems lonely.”

  “It’s practical,” Yamini said. “Served me well so far.”

  “Really?”

  Esha was stalling now, but only because she had heard noises outside. She didn’t know if it was friend or foe, but either way, she needed a few seconds to regain her balance. Fighting Yamini was like what Esha imagined fighting herself would be like. Hard. Brutal. Devious.

  A Yavar soldier burst through the rows of shelves of the Great Library, followed by a growling, keening noise. Behind him was Kunal, phased into his talons and running at a supernatural speed. A few Blades had made their way to the library door and were fending off attackers as best they could.

  Esha cursed and glanced at the shelf with the ancient chest containing the artifacts.

  Yamini’s eyes glinted in the shifting lights.

  “Well played, Lady Esha,” she said, before running for the shelf. Esha sped after her, but she was too late. “But no match.”

  Yamini grabbed the chest in triumph, but Esha scooped up her spear and threw it, lodging Yamini’s uttariya into the wood of the shelf behind her. Like Kunal had trapped her, moons ago. Yamini fared as well as she did, struggling to unravel herself. Esha ran over and knocked the chest out of the woman’s hands, grabbing it before it fell to the floor.

  “Wrong,” Esha said.

  To her side, Kunal had managed to tackle the Yavar soldier to the ground and he held him in a choke hold.

  She slid the chest across the floor into the stacks of shelves, and whipped back around to Yamini. Esha moved to wrap her whip around her neck and ease her into unconsciousness.

  Yamini sprang forward, grabbing and twirling the spear around as she moved toward Esha. Esha dodged back but the spear tip caught her across the arm and she staggered back, searing pain shooting up her arm and shoulder.

  Esha bit down hard, fighting back a wave of pain. She stumbled to the ground, opening the way for Yamini.

  No. Not like this. Esha tried to crawl toward her. She couldn’t let Yamini take the copper scroll. Everyone else was occupied fighting off the Yavar. Only Esha was open to stop her.

  Kunal burst into view, throwing his body in front of the chest. He was wounded too, and slower than normal.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, Kunal,” Yamini said.

  “Then don’t.”

  “I have to do this,” Yamini said. “It’s my duty.”

  Kunal hesitated, for only a moment’s time. It was enough.

  Yamini threw a perfectly aimed spear. It hit Kunal in the shoulder and he fell to the ground, to his knees.

  Then she charged at him, her second spear pointed at the dead center of his chest.

  Kunal wouldn’t be quick enough. Even with his powers, the second spear would skewer him.

  Esha let loose a guttural cry, like Reha’s, and it sparked something deep inside her, something that gave her the last bit of strength she needed to rush forward. Esha lashed her whip out toward Yamini’s feet as she rammed into Kunal, knocking him over.

  The spear thudded into the wood above them and Yamini went flying.

  A cry lit up the room, a groan of pain that sounded too much like her lemon boy.

  But he was alive.

  All Kunal knew was that he had hesitated for what could be his last time. He had closed his eyes. He had been ready for the end.

  But the crack of a whip had rent the air and Kunal had felt himself go flying. And even now, through the haze and fog of pain, he knew that Esha had saved him.

  Something cracked open in his heart, spilling forward until all Kunal could do was choke out sounds, ones that wished they were words.

  Esha looked down at him, mistaking the noises. “Kunal. Are you okay?”

  Her voice was frantic, desperate. She cupped his face, not realizing the trail of bloody fingerprints she left.

  “I’m okay,” he said.

  Esha sat back heavily, cradling her face in her hands.

  He reached out to caress her cheek.

  “I’m okay,” he repeated, softer. Slowly, she nodded. Her chest heaved with exertion, her breaths calming down as they both noticed the chaos around them.

  “It would have to be the world ending to take me away from you,” he said quietly. Her eyes lit up in recognition at the words he had told her before the Sun Mela chariot race.

  “Then this isn’t the end of the world?”

  Kunal smiled and shook his head. He struggled up to a seated position despite Esha’s protests, dragging himself over to collapse against a stone wall. He snapped the spear handle and pulled it out of his shoulder in a swift movement.

  An armor-clad Laya burst into the library, searching for someone. “My lady!”

  Esha’s head bobbed up. “Yes?”

  “The citadel,” she said, panting and resting her hands on her knees. Laya must have run the whole way here from the citadel. “It’s been attacked by the Yavar.”

  Kunal’s head began to spin—from the onslaught of information and the rush of blood. That’s what Yamini had needed from Zhyani. A distraction.

  And something far worse. Kunal had a feeling Yamini had known exactly who was being kept in the citadel. Esha seemed to realize it as well.

  “We need to get to the citadel and the cistern immediately,” Esha said to Laya. “Go check on the dungeons. Now. We’ll catch up.”

  Laya saluted and sprinted away.

  Kunal looked to where Yamini had been standing, ferocity and steel, moments ago.

  The spot was empty now.

  He scanned the room, noticing the small jeweled chest still at the back of the room. Something was off, something was wrong. And then it hit him.

  The chest was open and the ivory satin of its insides was empty.

  Yamini was gone, and the copper scroll with her.

  Kunal gripped Esha’s arm, urgency suffusing his voice. “The citadel. Vardaan. I’ll be fine. But . . .”

  Esha didn’t need to be told twice.

  “Stay here,” Esha said. “You better not move a muscle, lemon boy. I’ll be back soon and then we can discuss how you seem to enjoy constantly putting yourself in danger.”

  She waved over a Blade, giving him short precise directives to Kunal’s care.

  Her face was grim as she left.

  The pathway between the palace and the citadel was deserted this early in the morning. Esha caught up with Laya despite the stitch growing in her s
ide. She didn’t have time to think about pain when so much was at stake.

  If Yamini had released Vardaan . . . it could be disaster.

  Esha cursed violently. Laya did a double take.

  “My lady?”

  “Please, stop calling me that. As you can tell, I’m not much of a lady.”

  They pushed through the gates that separated the royal pathway from the citadel and rushed down the remaining flights of stairs.

  It was chaos.

  Broken bars of wood and bent metal were strewn about the last landing of stairs and farther into the now-open entrance to the dungeons. Three mangled bodies lay at the foot of the door, long vicious cuts slashed across faces and bodies.

  Esha’s muscles tightened at the sight in front of her, her jaw clenching.

  No. No, it couldn’t be.

  She sprinted to the cell at the end of the room where she had taunted Vardaan only a few weeks ago.

  But she knew before she got there what she would find.

  An empty cell, the bars bent and the room torn up. More injured soldiers littered the ground, their shields and weapons having proven useless. One of them rose to a seated position, a hand held tightly to the gaping wound in his belly. “My lady . . .”

  Esha dropped to her knees and tore off the end of her sari. She wrapped it quickly around the soldier and cinched it tight. He winced but dropped his hand. Blood seeped into the ground below them, tinting the cracked stones a dark red.

  “I’m sorry . . . the old king escaped,” he said in a wheeze. “Vardaan escaped. We couldn’t hold him back.”

  Esha wiped the soldier’s brow. “It’s not your fault. He had help.”

  “The Yavar knew he was being held here. They knew how many of us there were, where our posts were. It was over before it started.” The soldier gasped, his eyes fluttering.

  “Rest,” Esha said. “It’s not your fault.”

  If anyone’s, it was Zhyani’s.

  But Esha couldn’t hold that rancor in her either. Not fully.

  Zhyani had tried to fix a choice made in anger and instead had put her entire team in danger. Had that not been Esha a few moons ago? Esha still remembered the rash decision she had made, the whip she had left behind. The moment that had unraveled this entire story.

 

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