“There’s not much to talk about. Get out of my way, Lady Esha.”
“You still call me that. Why?” Esha said, hoping to draw her into conversation, stall her.
Yamini didn’t take the bait to talk. “I tire of your questions.”
Esha had underestimated Yamini’s desperation. Yamini moved so fast that even if Esha had been looking directly at her, she might not have been able to block her.
Yamini’s knife was out, aimed at Esha’s heart.
But it missed.
A huge lion, gold as the city around it, leaped in front of her. Harun roared as the knife plunged into his leg.
And a scream ripped out of Esha’s throat.
Kunal ran toward the scream, arriving to find Yamini facing off with Harun in his lion form. There was blood dripping from one of his legs, but the prince didn’t seem slowed down in the least.
Yamini looked up and caught sight of him, a grim smile on her lips. Kunal saw it first, the second knife in her hand.
“Duck!” he yelled. Harun heard him in time and it was enough to distract Yamini so that her aim was off, the blade lodging in the ground to the side of them.
Kunal rushed over, but Yamini took the moment to run off. She headed for the temple and there could be no mistaking what she aimed to do.
“She doesn’t have the artifacts,” Esha said, panting as she rose to her feet.
“She might not need them,” Kunal said. “We have to move.”
Kunal helped Esha to her feet as Harun shifted back. She ran to him, but Harun waved her off.
“It’s nothing,” he said. “I’ll catch up.” Kunal noticed the paleness of his face but nodded.
They ran toward the temple as fast as they could. The massive doors were already open.
Yamini knelt at the altar that took up the inner sanctum of the temple, light reflecting off her head.
“Oh, no she doesn’t,” Esha said, venom in her voice. She unfurled her whips and approached Yamini with deadly speed.
Yamini was chanting in the old tongue and the air around her had begun to shimmer, bend in the light. She lifted her hand to put something forward.
But Esha had caught up with her. Her whip flicked out and secured itself around Yamini’s wrist.
Yamini whipped around, her lips turning into a sneer.
“I can commend you on not giving up, but this is futile. I will succeed,” she said. Yamini tugged at her wrist, but Esha held her ground. Her muscles strained, but she didn’t budge.
Kunal caught up to Yamini and drew his knife. Harun had already reached them, though. Yamini, one hand still caught in the whip, whirled around and aimed a kick at Harun’s head. He dodged but barely.
Yamini was still formidable with one hand tied behind her back. Kunal wasn’t surprised, certainly not after all he’d seen.
Esha struggled to hold on to her whip, trying to slow down the Yavar princess, but Yamini spun and struck Kunal across the chin. He staggered back before ramming forward and shoving her to the ground.
Yamini’s head hit the stone with a thud, but still, she didn’t stay down. She looked up at him, her eyes turning thoughtful. It was infinitely scarier than before.
“Kunal, the lost prince. What’s your place in all this?” she asked, reminiscent of the words she had spoken to him in the forest. “What about our new world order?”
“I’m trying for one,” he said, panting.
She chuckled in disbelief as she slowly got to her feet. To his right, the others arrived, hiding in the shadows. Kunal blocked her, serving as the barrier between her and the altar.
“Your father,” Yamini said. “He’s alive. Did you know that?”
“Lies,” Kunal said. She wouldn’t distract him. He nodded at Esha and Harun, who staggered forward to the altar. They had only a short time to make this work.
“Are you sure? Are you willing to bet on that?”
No, he wasn’t willing to bet on that. But Kunal didn’t know if he could believe her or believe Vardaan. They had seen a desire in Kunal and were twisting it against him—or they were telling the truth. It didn’t change what had to be done.
Kunal looked into her face. It was the face of someone whose duty had turned to obsession. This was who he didn’t want to be; this was what he wanted to escape.
He shifted ferociously, snapping his talons and wings as he dove at her. Her eyes flashed in confusion before she jumped out of his direction. He flipped around and came at her again. This time she was too slow and Kunal tackled her to the ground.
He held her down even as she thrashed against him. His sharpened strength was too much for her. If he hadn’t been a royal, she would’ve been more than up to the task.
“Now!” Esha yelled.
Yamini struggled against him, her eyes wide and wild as he drew his talons closer to her, edging close to her throat.
“No,” she said. “All I wanted was to—”
Laksh and Reha raced out of the shadows toward them. Kunal reached down, and with a single swipe, he cut across Yamini’s arm. Blood pooled out of the slash and Kunal pushed her forward into Laksh’s arms. Laksh grabbed her and shoved her arm down toward the floor.
One. Two. Three.
Three drops of blood fell into the ground.
Laksh blew the conch—a sharp, bellowing sound—at the same time as Reha lit the lamp.
Harun’s voice rang out in the cold silence of the empty temple. He chanted the ancient invocation passed down from royal to royal—with a few changes, courtesy of Farhan.
The sound filled up the vast space of the ancient hall, bouncing off the gold to create an echoing sound that made the hairs on Kunal’s arms stand on end. The temple itself began to shake, tremors racking its spine. Debris fell from the sky and Kunal phased his wings in to cover him and the others as best as he could.
They cowered, expecting the worst, but without warning the temple stopped shaking. It burst into a radiant light that was so blinding they all had to turn their faces away.
Two figures appeared on the dais, shadows in the blinding light, forming into otherworldly creatures.
The gods had arrived.
Chapter 37
Esha fell to her knees. The others did as well. Laksh managed to do it while keeping a firm grip on Yamini, who still looked dazed.
Esha sneaked a peek up at the gods, their figures like the outlines of a flickering fire: gorgeous, raw, and painful to look at directly. Neither held a full form and neither looked completely human.
“Who called us here?” the goddess demanded.
“We have,” Esha said. “We who worship you as the Sun Maiden and you as the Moon Lord.” She turned to bow to each god. “We’ve come to ask for your help.”
“No,” the goddess said, her voice terrible and thunderous. “Humanity is none of our concern. Not anymore.”
“Please, goddess,” Esha said. Someday, far in the future, she’d wonder how in the gods’ names she had managed to find the courage to speak to them. “We require your help.”
“You have broken your bond.”
“Not on purpose, goddess. We seek another bond, another boon,” Harun said from behind. His voice was steady, deliberate.
“You dare to bargain with us?” The shimmering lady’s voice turned cold. “After desecrating our one gift to you?”
“We dare to ask for a new beginning,” Esha said. She could feel the energy in her limbs lessen the more she looked upon the gods’ faces. She had to turn away. The others noticed, each stepping forward in turn.
“One that includes all of us, no divisions,” Kunal said.
“No lies,” Harun added.
“No boundaries,” Reha said.
“And no more pain,” Laksh whispered.
“And what of her?” The goddess’s shifting form reached out to Yamini, who was still on the ground, clutching her arm.
“She’ll come around,” Esha said confidently.
The goddess turned, the full fo
rce of her beauty and power like the rays of the sun. Esha could make out only the faint hint of a face, unrecognizable in its foreignness. “You’re a strong one, aren’t you? Pity you are one of his.”
Esha’s eyes flickered over to the god to her right, his form shifting between a crescent moon and that of an armor-clad giant.
“That’s what we want to change,” Esha said slowly, carefully. She heard the tremble in her voice and tried to steady it. It wouldn’t do to anger a god. “I’m not his, Kunal isn’t yours. We’re all the same. We’re all of the gods. Of creation.”
Kunal went still at her side as the goddess shifted her attention to him.
“Yes, indeed. But is humanity prepared for what that means?”
“I don’t know, my lady,” Kunal admitted.
“I do,” Reha said, stepping forward. Her mouth was set in a grim, determined line. Harun followed behind her.
“Ah, you’re different, aren’t you?” The goddess seemed intrigued. “You both have the magic of both of our descendants, the keepers of the blood. I can smell it on you.”
She stepped back.
“What is your offer? What is your sacrifice?”
They each held out one of the original offerings for the ancients used in the first Ayana: flowers and fruits and milk of the land that they had carefully collected.
“We offer ourselves, we offer all of the people of all of the lands as custodians.”
“That didn’t work before,” the god said. His voice rumbled like a crumbling mountain. “And magic is in your lands. Learn to harness it and leave us be.”
“But it is not available to all of us,” Harun said, stepping forward.
Yamini’s eyes flew open and she struggled to her knees.
“By all the people of the lands, we mean all of them. Including Vasu’s,” Reha said.
The Moon Lord’s ethereal form shifted like the tides, flashing into a red moon and waves that flooded the entire room and Sun Maiden’s form glowed a deeper, dangerous burnished gold.
Kunal and Esha lurched back, ready to smash the artifacts and the connection if need be.
“You would risk it all for them?” the goddess asked.
The five of them looked at each other.
“For a new world,” Esha said.
“A new world?” The goddess seemed to consider the concept. “A new bond will not solve your problems, young ones. You will still divide yourselves, still find ways to war and kill and steal. It is a vicious cycle.”
“And yet, these humans are trying to break it,” the Moon Lord said. He whispered a word so beautiful in sound that it made their ears hurt from the perfection of it. Laksh fell to his knees, covering his ears. The goddess’s form flashed in response, as if he had called her name. “It has been some time since the last humans came through here.”
“They’re all the same,” the goddess said.
“None of them are the same. We are steady, unmoving, observing. They are not.”
Her form contorted ever so slightly as she looked out at them, still holding their lives in the palm of her hand.
He said that word again—the goddess’s true, ultimate name—and Esha also covered her ears, unable to control herself. This final plea wore down the goddess, who accepted with a nod.
The Moon Lord stepped forward to Esha, fully manifesting into the form of a giant armor-clad human. She dropped her hands from her ears and fell to her knees.
“Get up, my child.” She did as he said and felt the faintest of touches under her chin, like lightning had brushed her skin. The Moon Lord lifted her chin. “We will reforge the bond. To all of you. To my children, to the Maiden’s children, and to Vasu’s children. And to us you will pledge your every breath. You will accept this?”
Esha nodded and he turned to Reha and Harun. “You both have the blood of the ancient lines, and you will keep maintaining it. The last time the power was given to all of the people, it didn’t end well. You will be the wardens of this magic. You will teach everyone, spread the knowledge of the land and your promise. And if you break this promise, mark my words, we will come back and collect our due. And we will not be so kind then.”
A single flash of lightning shattered the darkness, striking a tile a few feet away.
They barely had time to respond before the room burst into a blinding gold light, illuminating every crevice in the hall, and then sputtered into darkness.
“Did it work?” Laksh whispered into the darkness.
Harun’s breath hitched, audible in the slowly receding darkness.
“Yes. The magic, the music. It’s everywhere.” He looked down at Yamini. “And it’s in all of us.”
Chapter 38
The sun arched over the sky, unencumbered by clouds or the storms of the past few days. It was a glorious pink, the color of hope. A new dawn for the city of Gwali and Jansa beyond.
Kunal sat on top of the tallest rampart in the palace, looking out over the city and the ocean beyond. The battlements were being cleared below, with pyres of fallen soldiers on both sides. Kunal had fought for that. There was no need to disrespect the dead, regardless of which side they had been on.
The new janma bond could be seen everywhere, in the raging river to the west, to the fisherman boats that were now making their way down the river and into the mouth of the ocean. It was what they had hoped for.
But since then, people were also awakening to new powers they didn’t recognize. Farhan said it would take some time for them to understand truly what they had awakened by reforging the bond. Scholars would study this new magic for years and there would need to be a proper census, protection, and training.
Esha had a few ideas already. She had been astonished when she had first felt the connection, sensed the soft twitter of a bird nearby before it hopped into sight and chirped at her. Since then, she had been diving into her magic, her connection to the land. Exploring it fully. Kunal was glad to share everything he knew—and to learn a few new tricks from her.
“Kunal,” a soft voice called.
He turned around and smiled at the curly-haired girl standing across from him. Esha seemed younger than usual, maybe due to the fashionable sari Reha had forced her into for the coronation. Or the fact that peace had finally been achieved. Either way, there was a fullness and a joy to her face now that Kunal was desperate to keep there. Forever.
He had fallen in love with Esha, with the Viper, with all of her. But now, they finally had a chance to get to know each other without the labels of Fort soldier and rebel.
A new world.
“The coronation is about to start. We need the new prince of Jansa at Reha’s side.”
“Did she ask for me?”
Esha chuckled. “Not in so many words. You know our Reha.”
She held out a hand to him and he took it.
Esha smoothed the silk of her new sari, a deep amber-and-russet geometric print that was edged in gold. The sun above them shone down as if the Sun Maiden herself was blessing the proceedings below. A warm, salty breeze drifted through the air, so different than before. Esha could sense that the ocean was happy today, content. The fishers would be happy with their hauls.
Reha walked up the ramp in the old tradition, an offering of fruit and flowers in her hands as she approached the palace. She wore a brilliant indigo sari of pure silk, embroidered with thick gold strands and a heavy border—a sari befitting a queen. They had been right to do the coronation in the old ways. Citizens had arrived from all over Gwali and were in every nook and cranny of the Queen’s Road.
She met the councilors and high priestess, all newly instated under the rule of Queen Reha, at the gates of the palace. The ceremony was simple and ancient. Reha offered the fruit and flowers at the gate before touching her forehead against the ground, giving thanks to the Sun Maiden and the gods above and asking for blessings in return.
The high priestess’s voice rose above the low chatter of the proceedings, soaring into a beautiful so
ng and chant that had been banned during Vardaan’s time. They told the story of Naria, the first warrior queen, and all the queens that had followed. The song told stories of the prowess and the follies of the Samyads. And at the end, Reha’s name was woven into the song to become an eternal part of the chant.
“All hail the reign of Queen Reha, keeper of the bloodlines, oath bringer, savior,” the high priestess intoned. And as her voice rose, the citizens of Gwali responded in kind. A swell of emotion rose in Esha’s throat, fighting against her good sense.
She tapped the edges of her eyes before anyone could notice. The Viper didn’t cry.
Esha apparently did, though.
A smile broke through and Kunal glanced down at her.
“What’s that smile for?” he said.
“I can’t smile?”
He lifted her hand and brushed over her wet fingertip. “I can’t help it,” she sniffed. “It’s an emotional day.”
“Indeed,” he said, teasing. “I think your new position as the ambassador of Dharka allows for displays of emotion.”
“And what about you, general?” Esha asked, tilting her head up. He bent his head and captured her lips in a quick kiss.
“They’d better get used to them. I plan on changing things in the army.” His voice was light but resolute.
Esha didn’t doubt it. She’d known it the day she had met him, eleven years ago in an orchard, that her lemon boy was destined for more.
And now, there was a chance for it.
Esha craned her neck around a tall nobleman in front of her, aiming to catch a glimpse of Reha as she crossed the gates and officially became queen.
Reha stood on the threshold, one foot hovering over the step. She glanced back at the crowd, her eyes searching for something. Esha waved a little through the crowd and Reha’s gaze snapped to hers, her face breaking into a smile.
The hint of worry in Reha’s eyes melted away as she winked at the two of them, crossed over the threshold, and became Queen of Jansa.
The cliffs below the Red Fortress of Jansa were the same and yet not.
A deep crevice slashed through the stone from top to bottom and the ruby cliffs had deepened into a red the color of garnets and old blood. A reminder of the cost of the past few weeks.
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