“That’s quite a reaction,” Mala said. “I hope you haven’t been up to mischief.” She placed a tray with chai and warm biscuits on my bedside table. I looked around the room. Arjun was gone.
A single magenta hibiscus bloomed from a glass vial. I touched its petals, trying to distract myself from thoughts of him.
“Why would I be up to mischief?” I mumbled, my face reddening as I discreetly glanced around my chambers. Just then, my fingers discovered a loose scrap of parchment under my pillow. I pulled it into my fist, watching Mala as she buzzed around the room like a hummingbird.
“It’s a busy day today. Breakfast with His Majesty’s guests, a tiger hunt, a banquet at the end of the night. Several dress changes, sorry to say.” I watched as Mala began to lay out my clothes for the day, scouring my wardrobe, pulling forth tunics and lenghas and saris and scarves.
Normally, I would have expressed annoyance, but today, I simply watched Mala as she zigzagged around my chambers, grabbing a bangle from a jewelry box, a pair of shoes from my wardrobe.
I thought of how Mala had cared for me since I was a child, waking me up every morning before breakfast. Feeding me slices of guava when I was hungry. Telling me stories. Combing my hair. Laying out my clothes. Making sure that I was on time to things. Scolding me when Arjun and I ran out in the rain without our shoes. Hugging me whenever I made her proud. These were only a few of the things Mala did for me.
“Come now, why are you still sitting? Let’s run you a bath.”
But all of a sudden, my eyes were filled with tears, and I was overwhelmed by the realization that I was leaving home and that Mala wasn’t coming with me.
Neither were Bandaka and Shree, Arjun’s parents. Nor were the hundred or so people who inhabited and operated what was practically a village within the palace compound: guards and cooks, gardeners and medicine men, ladies-in-waiting and council members. Even a zookeeper for the palace zoo that had been built at my great-grandmother’s insistence. These people were my family, and Shalingar Palace was my home. And then there was my father. Whether I was leaving with Sikander or Arjun, I would probably never see any of them ever again.
Another thought crossed my mind: What would happen to all of these people, my family, if Arjun and I ran away? Would our transgression put their lives at risk as well?
“What now, girl? I don’t have time for your tears today,” Mala said sternly. But she glanced at me a second time, and I could see her soften. She sighed and sat down at the edge of my bed.
“It’s scary and unnerving, I know. Leaving home, leaving Shalingar. Their customs are different, their way of life. Still, you’ll come visit. And Master Arjun will be in Macedon for his military training. And I suspect your father’ll take some trips to Macedon too, now that you’re to be there.”
I nodded, but now a torrent of tears was running down my face. I hated that I was keeping things from Mala. I never kept anything from her.
“Girl, this is going to be hard for you to understand since you grew up in a palace, everyone giving you exactly what you wanted the moment the thought of it fell into your head. You’ve had a charmed and blessed life. Nothing but fortune. I used to worry that that kind of pampering would make you soft. But you’re not soft. You’re braver, fiercer, smarter than you think. Use those parts of yourself and you’ll never blame anyone else for the conditions of your life. It’ll be your own, no matter what happens, no matter who you’re married to or where you are. No matter what anyone says.”
I nodded, wiping away my tears. I felt the urge to tell Mala what Arjun and I had discussed last night. I wanted to tell her that I was in love, but I knew I couldn’t, so I simply hugged her as tight as I could.
Mala squeezed me back before she got up again. “No time to dawdle now. What’s this?” she said, lifting up Arjun’s sock from the floor.
I opened my mouth to say something, my heart racing, but just then Mala drew the curtains open. Bright sunlight poured into my bedroom. She pressed a palm to the window and put down the sock, bringing her hand up to her mouth. “What the—”
I scrambled behind her. The sight outside my window made me dizzy with panic. A loose zebra, running across the grounds.
“How did it . . . ?” Mala began. “Someone must have let it out of the zoo.”
I felt a cold stab of fear in my heart as I thought about Thala’s prophecy.
Mala shook her head, but her eyes remained fixed on the grounds below. “Nothing but commotion today. Look.” She pointed at the guards scurrying after the zebra. “What a nuisance. And when we’re already stretched thin dealing with guests. Something about the alignment of the stars today . . .”
“What do you mean?”
“We just learned about some strange activity on the western border, possibly a tribal war. We’ve sent a convoy, some intermediaries. I tell you, when trouble comes, it doesn’t leave till it’s done its full work. And the council’s been up all night in the Map Chamber. They’re still at it; God knows what they’re discussing in there . . .”
But I was already tossing on my robe and fleeing out the door, running as fast as I could down the corridor before she could finish.
Nine
“I’M SORRY to be disrupting your meeting, but there’s something you need to know!” My face gleamed with a sheen of sweat, and my voice came out a mangled scream. I cringed at the desperate sound that echoed across the chamber.
My father was standing at the head of the table, surrounded by his advisors. Before him was a roll of parchment filled with frenetic, curlicued text. Once again, several pairs of eyes snapped up in my direction. Mala was right—they had been up all night, strategizing. I glanced at the parchment with interest.
A treaty.
“What is it, Amrita?”
I assessed the faces looking back at me, regretful that I had barged in on their council meeting for the second time in a matter of days, but I knew I had to put aside everything—my sense of propriety, any feelings of betrayal or anger that I had toward my father. I had to tell him what I knew.
“The oracle. She said something about animals running loose, some sort of fight on the western border. She told me we can’t trust Sikander. She said something about an attack. I know it all sounds vague, but—”
“There was a breach at the royal zoo this morning,” Shree offered.
“And Mala mentioned something about activity on the western border,” I said.
“A tribal war, most likely. We’re looking into it,” said Bandaka.
“Papa, you know I don’t believe in such things, but—”
“We’re handling it, Amrita.” He looked around the room at his advisors before he turned back to me. “We’re putting the finishing touches on a treaty. One that keeps you safe. You’re not marrying Sikander,” he told me. “You’re not going to Macedon with him. Your betrothal is no longer on the table; it’s not open for negotiation.”
“But what about Shalingar? What about—”
“We’re agreeing to all of Sikander’s terms, but he doesn’t get you. And we keep Shalingar secure.”
“But . . . how is that possible?”
“It’s possible because I can’t allow this . . . marriage. The treaty focuses on trade relations, tariffs, allowing Sikander access to our ports. But the alliance won’t be built on a marriage.”
I looked back at my father, tears in my eyes. I wondered how much he was giving up to keep me away from Sikander. That was all he had ever wanted, to keep me safe.
“Thank you, Papa,” I said to him.
“Thank your brilliant family,” he said, gesturing around the room. “These are the best legal minds in Shalingar. And they all love you very much.”
I smiled at Shree and Bandaka and Ali, my hand instinctively reaching toward my heart. “Thank you,” I whispered before I went to my father, embracing him.
>
“And I’m not ready to see you go yet,” he whispered in my ear. “Now, don’t worry about a thing. We’ve got it all handled. We’re presenting this information to Sikander today . . .”
I didn’t hear the rest of what he said. Because behind my father, out the window, I could see an elephant running across the grounds.
And I wondered if, despite my father’s best intentions, it was simply too late for us all.
¤
I carefully uncurled the note in my hand as I walked out of the Map Chamber, and in Arjun’s fastidious handwriting were the words:
My love,
It took everything in me not to stay in bed with you, not to wake up with you this morning. But then I thought, I get to wake up with you every morning for the rest of my life. I can’t wait for the adventures that await us. I have always loved you. I will always love you.
Your Arjun
A smile inadvertently spread across my face.
I had an intuition about where I would find Arjun. I walked down the interminable main corridor filled with elaborate displays of shields and swords till I arrived at the east courtyard. It had always been one of our favorite places to meet: a verandah of white marble and light, filled with ferns and palm fronds. Lush vines crawled up marble columns into the hazy sunlight that poured through the open roof. A small pool filled with fluorescent blue fish, darting this way and that, shimmered in the center of the space. A marble fountain gurgled, as though in a constant state of delight. Sparrows and parrots flew down from the edge of the roof into elaborate nests. Off in a corner was a hammock, surrounded by fragrant jasmine plants.
“Arjun?” I whispered, and he emerged from behind a palm tree, his hair a mess, dark circles under his eyes. But he looked happy to see me.
“So you’ve been up all night too?”
His face opened into a smile and he pulled me into his arms, running his fingers through my hair, kissing me softly at first, and then more ardently.
“How can I sleep when I can’t stop thinking about you?” he asked.
I breathed in his familiar scent, my hands on the sides of his neck. “I can’t stop thinking about you either,” I told him as I buried my face in his chest. “My father is—”
“Working on a treaty to present to Sikander. I heard.”
I nodded into his collarbone. “I saw a zebra. And then an elephant. And the fight on the western border—”
“I know.”
“What do you think?”
“I think your father is doing the best he can, but Sikander has been known to turn his back on treaties. What’s stopping him from simply saying no? I’ve been thinking about our plan, researching routes from here to the east. I know so many people along the way who would help us.” He hesitated before he added, “Sikander’s last dinner is tonight.”
Even though I knew this, I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around how fast it was all happening. “So that means we leave . . . tomorrow at dawn?”
Arjun reached for me, stroking my arm.
“Are we being selfish, Arjun?”
“I don’t know,” he said, leading me to the hammock, gently lifting me into it. I watched him for a moment before he grinned, slipping in with me. We began to laugh.
“If this were a magic carpet, we could just fly away in it,” I said.
“Too bad we don’t live in a Persian fairy tale.”
“We only dress like we do. For Sikander.”
Arjun laughed, and I kissed him again. I wanted to close my eyes and stay here, in this hammock, curled up in his arms forever. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. After all, this was how we had been since we were children. Only now, the desire between us had spoken, made itself clear.
“I love you, Arjun.”
“Thank God for that. I was afraid you were just using me for my body.”
I giggled, wrapping my arms and legs around him, and for a moment we were literally like two seeds in a tamarind pod. “Could you blame me if I was?”
“I guess that would be all right.” He shrugged, a smile across his face.
We were quiet for a moment before I asked, “If we leave, can we go find my mother?”
“You think he’s telling the truth about her being alive?”
“Maybe I’m just hopeful. We’ll be all alone. I can’t imagine never seeing Papa ever again.” Tears pierced my eyes. “Who else do I have?”
“You have me,” he insisted. “You’ll always have me.” His voice was fierce, his hand held my face, and I could see from his eyes that he meant it. “I can’t imagine never seeing you ever again.”
“Remember that story Mala used to tell us about the vetala and the Diviner?” I asked him. “I was thinking about it the other day, but I couldn’t remember it.”
It was the first love story Mala had ever told me, and now that I was in love, I couldn’t stop returning to it in my mind.
“I remember. The Diviners hated the vetalas; the vetalas hated the Diviners,” he said as he stroked my hair. “But they had some sort of agreement. They left one another alone. Until one day, a Diviner stumbled into vetala territory. She feared they would eat her soul, take her body, but instead, one of them fell in love with her.”
“How did it end?”
“The vetala was immortal and the Diviner wasn’t. So it ended with her dying and her vetala lover waiting centuries for her to be reborn, scouring every corner of the Earth in order to find her.”
“No wonder I forgot it. It’s too sad.”
“It’s all just folklore anyway, isn’t it? That’s what you always said.”
Before I could respond, I heard a quiet crack, followed by a rustling sound. I froze. Maybe it was just the wind. Or a twig snapping. But we were in an enclosed space; there was hardly any wind here.
“Did you hear that?” I whispered, trying to hide the frantic hitch in my tone.
“Hear what?”
And then I heard it again, except this time there was a scurrying sound that followed it. I pulled away from Arjun, trying to extricate myself from the hammock.
Something dashed around the edge of the courtyard, but it was impossible to see what—or who—it was from where we were, with all the palm fronds around us.
Maybe it was just a mouse, but my heart was beginning to race. “What was that, Arjun?” I whispered, beads of sweat forming on my upper lip.
I could see that he was nervous but he didn’t want to scare me. “Probably just a small animal.”
“What if someone saw us?”
He shook his head. “Nobody ever comes here.”
“Tippu the gardener does. We do.”
“Yeah, and that’s it. Tippu isn’t going to tell on us.”
“What if he heard us?”
“Then he heard us,” Arjun whispered. “We’ll be fine. I’m not going to let anything happen. Just . . . we should return to our quarters. Say your goodbyes to everyone . . . I mean, not literally, but in your own way.”
I took a deep breath. “You’ll be at the banquet tonight?”
He smiled a false smile. “Looking forward to it,” he said. “Do me a favor,” he added as I got up and brushed myself off. “Charm him tonight. I don’t want him to suspect anything.”
In less than twenty-four short hours, my life would change. I would leave my home, my family. And what awaited me out in that vast world I had barely seen a fraction of? It was the great Unknown, and it both frightened and thrilled me.
Ten
“THESE,” MALA SAID, her eyes wide, her hands holding up a sculptural pair of platform shoes studded in diamonds.
I hesitated, looking at the precarious and sparkling footwear: a combination that didn’t inspire confidence. I hesitated. “Can’t I wear sandals?”
“Girl, why don’t you just greet him in your paja
mas, with grit in your eye and with your hair a snarled mess?”
I blushed. I could tell that Mala was just hurt because she had hand-selected the shoes for me, but she was right. I remembered what Arjun had said about charming Sikander.
“All right.” I looked at Mala with affection.
When Mala turned her back, I grabbed the key to Thala’s cell. I had taken it with me and hidden it in the top drawer of my dresser. I wanted to go check on her tonight, after the banquet. I was determined to help her, and I also secretly wondered—given what Arjun and I had discussed—if she had anything more to tell me.
“Mala, how come you never said anything about my mother?” I asked.
Perhaps it wasn’t the best way to say goodbye, but I was closer to Mala than practically anyone in the world, save Arjun and my father. Why hadn’t she ever told me anything?
Mala didn’t look surprised. She put down the wooden comb in her hand and looked at my reflection in the mirror.
“You never asked.”
“I thought it was a sensitive topic.”
“Since when have you hidden behind sensitive topics? Your mind is like the tentacles of Makara the Spider.”
I laughed, remembering the fable Mala used to tell me when I was a child. Makara was the creator, destroyer, and sustainer of the world. He created the world through his dreams and sustained it through his thoughts, destroying it every ten thousand years before he started again.
“I used to love that story,” I said to her.
“I know. And I loved telling it to you,” she said as she wiped away a tear.
“I’m going to miss you, Mala,” I said, looking at her. Mala and I were rarely sentimental with each other, but how could I not be tearful and nostalgic on this night? “You’ve been the closest thing I’ve ever had to a mother.”
“And you’ve been a daughter to me,” she said. “Maybe that’s why I never brought it up. Perhaps I was jealous of the possibility that you could love someone more. Blood is blood, after all.”
I shook my head. “That’s not true. What you and I have is thicker than blood. I couldn’t possibly love anyone more.”
The Library of Fates Page 6