The Chariot at Dusk

by Swati Teerdhala

“If we get him,” she started, “this will all be over. It can finally be over.” Kunal seemed to hear the wistful note in her voice. He put a warm hand on her arm, the only affection they had time for right now. The scene at the gates had shaken her more than she wanted to admit.

  “We will,” was all he said.

  Kunal glanced out and then back at her, quickly nodding and pointing two fingers ahead. She followed close behind, pulling her bow at the ready.

  Vardaan stood on top of a dais in full bronze armor, a sword at his side. Esha notched her arrow and pulled the string back, aiming true.

  She just had to let go. His back was to her.

  But before she could release the arrow, he stilled and turned his head.

  “I was wondering when you’d find me.”

  Kunal jerked back at Vardaan’s words, but Esha held steady, the fire in her eyes too bright to turn away. The Viper wouldn’t.

  But Esha wasn’t the same Viper as before.

  And Kunal wasn’t the same soldier.

  Years ago he might have found Vardaan to be a worthy idol as he stood there, tall, commanding, the pinnacle of what he had thought a soldier was.

  But Kunal knew more now, he knew better.

  “You’ve surprised me again, Archer,” Vardaan said, turning to face him. “Tricked me, I’d even say. You are far more than you let on, far more than your uncle said. It’s now clear to me why Setu never let us meet. I thought you were a disappointment, but you were a treasure.” Something akin to pain flashed across his face. “The Scales were right. There was a lost prince. I should’ve known those old translations were so unreliable. But whose are you? Shilpa was an old crow, but she had been fun in her youth.” He chuckled, looking unconcerned that an arrow was aimed at his chest.

  “And the Viper. After our last meeting I looked into you,” Vardaan said to Esha. “Esha Amara, the ambassador’s daughter. I remember you, a little. You look just like your father. He was a good man, kind and noble, but in the wrong place at the wrong time. I didn’t mean for him to die, really; he simply knew too much. Still, it is one of my regrets. One of many.”

  Esha’s face had grown pale. “It doesn’t matter. You killed him. You killed thousands. This is your justice.”

  Esha drew the bow back, fire on her face.

  But there was a breath of hesitation. Kunal and Vardaan both saw it.

  “And what about your soldier there? Do you know what he’s done? How many people’s blood he has on his hands? And what about you, Viper? You’re no innocent either.”

  “I’ve never claimed to be,” she spat out.

  “Then do it. Kill me,” Vardaan said. “You had your chance before and you stayed your hand.” He let out a mocking laugh, his lips turning into a cruel smile. “What a charade. You’re weak. Even now you can’t end this.” His voice turned mocking. “Are you weak, Viper?”

  Esha stepped back, her hand still clenched around the wood of her bow, so tight that the etching cut into her palm.

  “Weak, like the queens of before,” Vardaan sneered.

  She wasn’t weak.

  She wasn’t weak, but something felt wrong.

  Esha couldn’t put her finger on it, couldn’t place the ragged, staccato beat in her chest as her arm held the bow string back, her shoulders aching with the struggle.

  She had been here millions of times before. This—this was it. This was all she had wanted for years. A desperate aching need for justice, for revenge.

  Anything to fill the emptiness of her heart. Anything to answer her ghosts, those of her father, mother, those of so many more.

  But it wasn’t the finality of it.

  It was his words.

  Are you weak, Viper?

  No, but this wasn’t strength either.

  Fighting, killing, avenging. If she did this, she’d never have a chance to be more than her revenge. She’d never have a chance to forgive, to move on. She would be the Viper forever.

  And for the first time, she didn’t want it. She wanted to be Esha.

  She was desperate to be Esha again, to be the girl her father had believed in, that he had died for.

  Her arms were heavy weights; she was drowning in this choice. Esha felt her arms drop from their position, saw herself opening up to attack, helpless to do anything.

  Was this the price of forgiveness?

  A soft click and then the slide of an arrow, loud enough that Esha couldn’t ignore it.

  She opened her eyes, ready to face whatever came next.

  Kunal raised his bow and pointed at Vardaan’s heart. His eyes were the color of a tiger’s, fierce and focused. A hunter.

  He moved so fast that Vardaan didn’t even notice the arrow protruding from his neck until he looked down in shock. Vardaan slid a hand to his wound, trying in vain to stop the blood. His eyes flashed as he looked at her, looked at the man standing in front of her.

  “You’re—” Vardaan stepped back, recognition alighting his face. He knew what Kunal was, whose blood he was.

  “Your song. It’s so familiar.” Vardaan’s face grew peaceful as he slumped to the ground. “Payal. You’re her son.”

  Kunal stood tall, letting the arrow drop to his side. “Yes. Kunal.”

  “She was my friend once. She had believed in me. At least she’ll . . . never know what I became,” Vardaan said, his eyes fluttering closed. The stream of blood from his wound made it clear his time on the earth wasn’t for much longer.

  At the slumped form of Vardaan, Kunal ran over to Esha, wrapping her in his arms.

  “I would’ve done it,” she whispered.

  Kunal didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.

  He knew her, heart and soul, past and future, better than anyone. Even when the Viper had been all the world had seen, Kunal had seen Esha.

  He had fought for Esha.

  Vardaan looked between the two of them, at the unspoken words and familiar touch. His eyelids shuttered and his body stooped over. “I did it all wrong, didn’t I?”

  Those were his last words.

  And like that, the Pretender King of Jansa was no longer a threat.

  He was only a man.

  Chapter 35

  Kunal wrapped Esha up in his arms and flew them out as soon as Laya and the Blades arrived. Whether Harun had sent them as protection or insurance if they failed, he didn’t know.

  All Kunal knew was that for a moment he had thought he would lose Esha. He didn’t think, didn’t consider, didn’t decide to kill the Pretender King of Jansa in that moment. The choice had been made for him moons ago, in a tree in the Tej, in the city streets of Gwali when he had fallen in love with a girl.

  His duty had changed.

  There was a lightness in his chest that he hadn’t felt in years. Vardaan had never been his demon, but he had been the cause of so much pain. And in the end, no matter how he had once imagined speaking with the king who had been his uncle’s friend, the king whose armies he had helped lead, this had been the only option.

  After meeting Esha, there had been only one ending.

  Esha was silent, dueling her own demons as they flew over the still-raging battle below. And Kunal didn’t push. They still had an ordeal ahead of them. It wasn’t over yet.

  They landed and when Kunal put Esha down gently on the outskirts of the battlefield, he saw on her face that she knew the same.

  One mission done. One more to go.

  The Red Fortress was a silent monument, perched on top of the cliff like a sun-dappled ruby. They had sent a force to take the Fort after they had taken the palace. It was theirs now, though not without heavy losses.

  It was fitting, really. Kunal didn’t think he could ever see the Fort again without remembering its history of violence. Even though it had been used only as a military outpost for ten years, it was enough to shift perception.

  The Blood Fort, as Esha had called it at first.

  They had met the others quickly on the outskirts of the battlefield, their
feint working as well as they could’ve hoped. Mahir’s squads had managed to draw the southern flank away without much harm. Harun, Laksh, and Reha had snuck through the back, protected by the Red Squad, and now, they were here with them. The Red Squad was a half league behind, covering their approach.

  Kunal and the others rode down the hill at a fast clip, their horses tired from the half-day’s journey from Gwali. Laksh and Reha were close behind them, Harun’s horse running at their pace.

  “Let’s take a break,” Esha said, waving them to a stop with her hand. “We can also take the time to scope out the location using Farhan’s map.”

  They nodded, each splitting up into their functions.

  Kunal would fly over the sea to confirm that he could hear the song of the city. Harun and Reha were to scout for the entrance, using their powers. Laksh was lookout, alongside Esha.

  They had barely dismounted their horses when the ground began to shake. Kunal bent to the ground, running a hand across it. The stones were jumping as the hill above them rumbled. His hand tightened around one of the stones.

  “Get back on your horses!” he yelled. “Retreat, go back!”

  It was too late.

  A horde of Yavar horse people rushed down the bank of the hill, their hooves thundering toward them.

  Kunal shifted into his eagle form and swept up Esha just as Reha bounded over and grabbed Laksh. Harun had shifted as well and was roaring at the incoming Yavar. Some of the horses skittered back or turned away, enough to cause confusion. Kunal thought he saw the glimmer of a smile on the tawny lion’s face before he turned around and ran.

  Kunal picked up his pace and flew to follow Harun and Reha’s trail.

  They got to the edge of the cliff that held the Red Fort, the ocean a vast canvas of cerulean beyond.

  Kunal landed near Harun, who slowed to a stop, Reha and Laksh not far behind. They had already shifted back and Kunal did as well, though he was loathe to let go of the protection of his animal form.

  The Yavar weren’t far behind.

  “Do we have it?” Esha said, her voice urgent.

  “Yes,” he said. “The map. I have it here.”

  Kunal tugged it out of his bag as Esha paced around the edge of the cliff. “How do we open this dratted thing?”

  “Maybe if we had decided to steal the copper scroll back, we’d know,” Laksh said.

  “Not the time, Laksh,” Kunal said.

  “What about in our copy, does it say anything?”

  Harun stepped forward, reaching his hand out into the space that rested above the cliff. This was the spot, according to Farhan’s calculations. This was where the door to the Drowned City of Gold would lie.

  “Farhan said the door appears at sunrise to those who are seeking it,” Kunal said.

  “Could it be any more unhelpful?” Esha asked.

  “And there’s a key, a stone of rainbow hues. They exist where spirits live, and with the Drowned City of Gold, that shouldn’t be a problem. We just have to look for a ratna.”

  “Oh, just look for a magical ancient stone that we’ve only heard of in tales?” Laksh said in a low voice. “I thought a ratna was the reason the Chariot of Dusk broke and was unable to continue the Lord of Darkness’s reign over the earth.”

  “Actually—” Kunal said.

  “We don’t have time for a history lesson,” Esha interrupted. “Let’s move.” They split up to look. Now that magic was back, the cliffs and the land near the Red Fort glittered and thrummed with vitality. Kunal didn’t think it would be as difficult anymore to find the stone.

  Something stuck out of the ground, a faint glimmer that punctuated the air above it. Kunal bent down and picked it up, brushing off the top.

  In the faint distance, hooves could be heard again and Kunal got to his feet. “They’re coming; we have to move. And I think I might have found one.”

  He turned to the others with a smile just as something came hurtling toward him.

  Kunal didn’t even have a chance to defend himself. He was knocked down and was only able to cover his head before everything went black.

  Three Yavar horse people ran toward them, yelling their battle cries. Harun shifted and Laksh ran to engage them as Esha and Reha held their ground near the edge of the cliff.

  “Looking for this?” a voice called out, holding out the ratna that had been in Kunal’s hand. Yamini’s grin was wicked in its gleam.

  Esha’s rage rose like fire. If Kunal didn’t get up in a few seconds, she would rip Yamini limb from limb. She wanted to run to Kunal but knew she couldn’t. They had to get the ratna back.

  Reha growled next to her, her eyes turning russet, claws lengthening out of her fingertips in warning. Esha wouldn’t want to mess with Reha in this state, but Yamini clearly didn’t know what was best for her.

  Esha ran forward from her covered spot, rushing at Yamini. The woman dodged neatly. Esha skidded and turned around quickly to follow Yamini as she ran away.

  But she was too fast and the downhill was to her advantage.

  Esha whistled sharply to draw the attention of others and turn them from their own fights. Laksh and Harun whipped around and found her with their gazes. They ran after her, following through on their plan.

  “She’s getting away!” she yelled.

  Their goal was easy. Separate Yamini from her soldiers. Then get her into the city alone.

  Step one was already done. Now to get her into that city by herself.

  Yamini ran to the rock with the notch and slotted in the ratna. It clicked in and a sharp, blinding pulse of light shot forward, pushing them all back and turning them into statues for a moment. The light faded as the last stone clicked into place and a massive door rose from the side of the cliff, opening into the sky.

  The door was made of solid gold, etched with lions and eagles. It rose into the air and slowly expanded until it towered over the entire cliff, a dark cloud in its own right. As Esha looked closer she saw that the reliefs on the door told the story of the Chariot at Dusk, the last side of the Lord of Darkness before he faced defeat. The reliefs seemed almost alive, the artwork moving on its own.

  It was awe-inspiring. It was incredible. It was myth come to life.

  It was terrifying.

  Esha almost skittered to a stop as she reached the door, fear taking over her heart at the massive drop that seemed to be behind the door. Yamini disappeared behind the door but not before throwing a triumphant glance at Esha.

  Esha took a deep, centering breath and ran after Yamini, through the ominous gold door.

  Chapter 36

  Esha tumbled through the door, bracing herself for a great fall. Soft grass met her instead and Esha rolled to a stop. She bounced to her feet, instantly looking around for Yamini.

  The girl’s armor shined in the light. Hearing footsteps not far behind, Esha could tell there was at least one member of her team behind her. She ran after Yamini.

  Now her only goal was to get to the center of the city before Yamini.

  Esha pumped her legs, straining against the limits of her muscles.

  The vast city loomed over her. Everything was made of gold, the city somehow taking on the opulent metal and making it its own. But there was more to it, hints of knowledge they had forgotten in the curved shapes of the buildings, the layout of the city. There had been something lost when this city had been struck down, a black mark on the name of humanity.

  Esha had never wondered very much why it had been called the Blighted War. Now she did.

  The buildings themselves were huge, circling around a tower in the center. The temple, where the gods could be awakened and where the artifacts had originally been created. The first temple where the Ayana had been performed by Naran and Naria.

  Esha heard a noise to her right, and though it looked as if she needed to take a left to go into the city, she veered right.

  If she could take Yamini down first, it would all end.

  Kunal’s head was s
till ringing when he got up, but in truth, he had faced much worse blows before. This wouldn’t take him down.

  But it might slow him down.

  Esha had already disappeared through the door and his only goal now was to follow. He couldn’t leave her in there with no backup.

  A short Yavar woman swiped at his head with a curved-blade spear and Kunal ducked just in time. She came at him, her blows relentless. He dodged each one, trying in vain to get in one of his own. These Yavar were good soldiers, likely Yamini’s personal guard.

  They had something, someone to lose. Kunal lunged to the side and finally landed a blow, giving him enough time to run.

  Kunal phased into his wings and launched into the air, but something was weighing him down. The Yavar warrior was still attempting to cling on to him, and despite his attempts at shaking her off, she somehow stayed on.

  It took a roll through the air to get her to loosen her grip. She fell to the ground, but Kunal had been flying low enough that it wouldn’t mean certain death.

  He landed and shifted back into his human form, using his speed and senses to try and catch up with Esha.

  There were a set of paths in front of him, and while from above they all seemed to go to the center of the city, Kunal felt there was more to it. Something whispered to him in the city and its streets.

  He turned away, focusing in on Esha.

  She was close, Yamini not too far ahead.

  Kunal sped up.

  Esha continued following the bright glimpse of Yamini’s armor and soon found herself in the center of the city.

  The temple loomed over them, tall and stacked with increasingly intricate layers, each showcasing another myth of creation. Esha reached the front entrance and unfurled her whips, on alert.

  There was a flash, out of the corner of her eye, and Esha grinned.

  She slowed down but continued following the noise she heard above. “Yamini! Come out, wherever you are. Let’s talk about this.”

  Silence followed, but Esha waited.

  Footsteps padded to her side. Yamini appeared, copper scroll in hand.

  Her gaze was hard as the metal in her hand, flinty and cold. Whatever warmth had once been between them had vanished in the wake of her goal.