Hunted by Sin: an Urban Fantasy Novel (The Gatekeeper Chronicles Book 2)

by Jasmine Walt

  The guards flanked me, cutting me off from Garuda. I craned my neck to catch his eye.

  “It’s all right. Just let them get it over with,” Garuda said.

  I didn’t like his resigned tone of voice or the steely glint in Vasuki’s eyes. The panel began to speak in unison, their voices rising to fill the room with a tangible presence.

  “The heinous murder of a gateway guardian holds the sentence of death. Execution by beheading to be carried out three days hence.”

  Execution? What the fuck?

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” I scanned the thirteen faces, my gaze snagging on Harish, who was standing at the center of the balcony with a thin smirk painted on his face. What the fuck was his problem?

  Garuda tucked in his chin, his focus on the ground. Wasn’t he going to say anything to defend himself? This was death we were talking about. The end of the bloody line.

  “Garuda?”

  He looked up and met my gaze. And there it was—the truth. He didn’t want to fight. He wanted death. He’d chosen the end. It made no sense. But it didn’t have to, because regardless of what he wanted, I couldn’t let it go down like that. If he wasn’t going to say anything, I’d have to do the talking for him.

  “This is bullshit.”

  Vasuki flinched. “This is our law.”

  “To pass sentence without giving the accused a chance at defense? Man, your legal system sucks ass.”

  The naga on the balcony began to twitter with activity.

  Vasuki crossed his arms. “The evidence is irrefutable.”

  “Of course it is. He definitely killed your guardian, but surely you can’t blame him for defending himself against attack? If your guardian had killed him, would you have allowed her to be put on trial for his murder?”

  “Definitely not. The guardian would have been merely doing her duty to protect our world. To succeed in her duty, she must survive.”

  “And what makes her duty to your world more important than his life? More important than his duty? You say it’s okay for her to kill to protect you. If it’s okay for her to kill to survive, then why do you deny Garuda the same rights?”

  The room was deathly silent, and Harish jumped out of his seat like a mini explosion. Vasuki glanced over his shoulder, and Harish quickly bowed his head.

  The naga king sighed. “You have something to say, Harish?”

  “Respectfully speaking, Your Majesty, her arguments are irrelevant. Death is the penalty for murder.”

  For fuck’s sake. These naga were in the dark ages. “So if you squish a bug, you have to be squished in return? Is that it? If someone has their hands around your throat, choking the life from you, and you stab them to save yourself, you have to be executed as punishment?”

  He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times.

  Someone behind Harish coughed and stepped forward to take his place. “May I speak, Your Majesty?”

  Vasuki smiled. “Please do, Bhima.”

  Bhima pressed his portly frame against the balcony railing. “I find the argument compelling, as do the rest of the judges. We believe the issue lies in the fact that death does not often come to Nagalok. Our people live in peace and harmony. We do not harm one another, and outsiders do not come here to harm us. Our laws reflect our experiences. With these new experiences, maybe it is time to develop new laws and new ways of coming to judgment.”

  Vasuki looked up at the ceiling, seeming to contemplate the words. “Fine. Let us consider the argument further.”

  Harish took a step forward. “Garuda was created to kill. Since being relieved of that duty, he protects only himself. Malina’s claim that Garuda killed to protect is ludicrous. Garuda kills for bloodlust and nothing more.”

  Man, I really hated this guy. “Wrong. He protects me. He protects my family and my friends. In fact, he is family.” So, yeah, it was pushing it a little, but my gut told me to go for it, to do whatever it took to save Garuda. Maybe my words could be true with time. If he died, we’d never know. I’d never know. I couldn’t lose him. I wouldn’t. “He did what he had to in order to ensure he would survive to continue in his role. He defended himself against your guardian. She attacked us, not the other way around.”

  The panel was buzzing in whispered debate, and Vasuki turned to look at them. “Well, what say you?”

  The chubby naga, Bhima, inclined his head. “We agree that the kill was made in self-defense, and upon reflection, execution would be an unjust sentence. However, the crime cannot go unpunished. We rule five hundred lashes. A lash for every decade our guardian lived.”

  Five hundred lashes? How could Garuda possibly withstand that? I opened my mouth to argue, but Garuda cut me off.

  “Thank you.”

  The words weren’t for the others. They were for me. The intention was written all over his face, in the softness of his mouth and the intensity in his eyes.

  Vasuki clapped his hands together. “Sentence to be carried out three days hence. Take him away.” He appeared relieved the whole debacle was over, which got me wondering how many times this same scene had played out, and what the outcomes had been.

  The guards surrounded Garuda.

  I took a step toward him. “Hey, wait! Where are you taking him?”

  “I’ll be fine,” Garuda said. “They’ll release me after the sentence has been carried out. I’ll find you.”

  They marched him away from me, each step a physical tug at my solar plexus until it was almost impossible to breathe. I turned away, breaking the connection and inhaling greedily. What the heck was wrong with me? The breathless feeling abated, leaving me hollow and lost.

  “Come with me,” Vasuki said. “Let me show you around the palace. I didn’t have the opportunity with the others, but it seems that fate will allow me this small grace with you, granddaughter.”

  24

  Granddaughter? That meant I was royalty. He swept away, giving me no time to absorb this monumental revelation. I followed him out of the ebony chamber and into a large tubular corridor beyond. He moved with silent, easy grace. Everything was clear of obstruction. The left side of the corridor was made completely of thick, semi-opaque material. I was pretty sure it wasn’t frosted glass.

  But forget the opacity of the windows. Royalty . . . damn.

  Vasuki cocked his head, studying me with interest. “From the expression on your face, I can assume your mother didn’t tell you that you were naga royalty.”

  “No. But then, she never had the chance. I wasn’t raised by my parents. In my reality, I was raised by the Assassin’s Guild.”

  “I can’t tell you much about the other Malinas I’ve had the opportunity to meet. To do so would break our laws—to know the fates of your alternate selves could disrupt the balance of the multi-verse and set you off course. However, I would like to share that you are the first to succeed in changing the panel’s mind. I’m impressed.”

  Had Garuda been tried before? Did that mean my alternates had failed to save him? My brain was beginning to ache with trying to figure it out.

  We passed through an archway into another vast chamber, this one filled with a sparkling lagoon of clear, fresh water. Light shone from within the pool, reflecting off the chamber walls and ceilings to create a rainbow of colors. My skin itched to take a dip.

  “You may swim later, if you wish. But first, I wanted to show you this.” He indicated the far wall where some kind of black, vein-like pulsing flora had taken root. It spread over the partition like a living thing. On closer inspection, I noted the colors: shooting comets of red, yellow, green, and blue.

  “What is it?”

  “This is the One Tree. All the naga lives entwined, connected as one. This is what your mother broke from when she decided to leave us for good. Our taste of Amrit gave us more than immortality. It gave us the gift of being able to travel between realities. We are voyeurs and collectors of knowledge, but we never stay long enough to disrupt the fabric of reality and leave
an imprint. Or at least, we endeavor not to. A naga who follows the rules exists as a unique being, here, in Nagalok. Free to venture out on short excursions but content with this vast realm that touches all others. Your mother was also content . . . until she met your father.”

  “She decided to stay in his reality.”

  “Yes, and by doing so, gave up her place in the One Tree. She became one Diya of many. Over the centuries, I have watched her die, grow old, become insane, and die all over again. I have watched you in your many incarnations over time and space: a child here, a grown woman there, and ready for the grave in another. I have seen your successes and your failures, and I have longed to know you.”

  “But you said I came here before. Surely you had a chance to speak to me . . . to them, then?”

  He turned away, his chest rising and falling. “Things didn’t go as smoothly on those encounters.”

  “Seriously? You can’t tell me anything?”

  He locked eyes with me, his mouth twitching. “No, Malina. I cannot.”

  Gah! “Fine, but there’s something I need from you. It’s essential to saving my mother in my reality.”

  “You want her nagamuni.”

  Okay, so he did know why I’d come. “Yes. Eamon told me she was forced to give it up to stay with him.”

  “Yes. A nagamuni is a tether that connects the naga to the One Tree. It allows the naga to benefit from our combined strength and wisdom. But to exist permanently outside Nagalok, the naga must relinquish his or her nagamuni and be unbound from this realm.”

  “So when they are unbound, they can live permanently outside of Nagalok?”

  “Yes. The tether aspects of the nagamuni fight the natural laws of the multi-verse, which seeks to expand, grow, create new paths, and bring to life new versions of its inhabitants. Every time you make a major decision, a new reality is formed—one in which you chose option A and one in which you chose option B. The nagamuni would prevent this from occurring, and so the multi-verse would seek out a way to eliminate the rusty cog in its works. The naga who become subject to the multi-verse laws do sometimes return. They claim their nagamuni, and if any alternates return, they become one.”

  “Okay, how does that work? What about their memories and stuff?”

  “Most of their memories would be shared ones, from their lives here. But someone like you, born outside of Nagalok, in a reality spawned by your naga parent, will forever remain disconnected. Your alternates will have their own distinct memories and lives.” He pointed up at the One Tree, at a shimmering emerald vein. “That was Diya before I was forced to cut her off.”

  So, if I took her nagamuni to her . . . If I restored it and made her whole, she’d be forced to come home. I’d find her only to lose her again. But if I left her as she was, I was sentencing her to being the entity’s bitch. What if the Daughter of Chaos leached my mother’s immortality? No. I had to free her.

  I reached up, my fingers hovering above the emerald vein. “In my reality, Diya is host to an entity older than time. She’s weak. Unable to break the entity’s hold on her. With her nagamuni restored and her connection to the One Tree reestablished, she could be whole. Your combined power would finally set her free.”

  His dark eyes glittered with compassion. “If the nagamuni were here, I would argue that there are many versions of Diya, and only one nagamuni, so what makes you believe your Diya deserves the gift over all others?”

  Shit. How could I answer that? Wait. Hang on, he’d said if . . . If the nagamuni were here. “It’s not here . . . Where is it?”

  He smiled wearily. “Out in the multi-verse. It was stolen. Smuggled out by Diya’s private guard. A Hinn.”

  “What’s a Hinn?”

  “Ancient beings predating the djinn. Simple by nature. Loyal, nurturing, and fiercely protective of their charges. There are only a handful left here in Nagalok. Diya’s Hinn didn’t understand the magnitude of what he was doing, of course. The nagamuni is impervious to the multi-verse rules, and as far as I am aware, it never found its way to any version of my daughter, or else I am certain she would have returned it. It’s out there somewhere.”

  “If the nagamuni is impervious to the laws of the multi-verse, how come it hasn’t been . . . eliminated?”

  “I don’t know.” He looked worried. “It’s something I’ve pondered on many occasion.”

  “Maybe you’re wrong about the multi-verse rejecting it?”

  He sighed. “I wish I was. Trust me. If the nagamuni is out there, then it has somehow been hidden from the multi-verse.

  The bloody nagamuni could be anywhere. In any reality. But wait . . . “You know which reality the Hinn stepped into? It would have been the reality that Diya chose, right? The one that spawned all the others?” Was I getting this right?

  “I can’t tell you that.”

  “This is ridiculous. I’m trying to save her life here!”

  He placed a hand on my shoulder. “So am I. Knowing too much, pushing and influencing the natural course of events, can lead to the death of worlds. By not telling you, I’m also trying to save lives.”

  My heart sank. I didn’t know enough about the multi-verse to argue with him, and I was done being the cause of death. The one thing I’d come for wasn’t even here. It was out of my reach, and there was no way I could find it.

  I was fucked.

  Vasuki opened the door to my guest chamber.

  “Are you sure you wish to remain until Garuda’s sentence? Lashings are a public event. They’re not a pretty sight.”

  “I’m sure.”

  There was no way I was leaving Garuda to go through that alone. I had to be there. I needed to be there. I hated that he’d killed the guardian. But I was in no position to get on my high horse. I’d made fifty unjust kills, something I wasn’t ready to share with my grandfather.

  “If you’re concerned that we will overturn the sentence in your absence and execute him instead, I can assure you that you have nothing to worry about. I give you my word he will be released after the lashings.”

  “It’s not that. I just . . . I want to be here.”

  Vasuki watched me intently. “You really care for him.”

  What? Did he think I . . . hell no. I was attracted to Garuda, yeah, but caring . . . I sighed. Who was I kidding? “Yeah. I do.”

  “Oh, Malina. My dear child. I thought you were just saying those things to the panel. Just words to flavor your argument. Garuda is a powerful ally, and his loss would have been detrimental to your fight. The judges were wooed by your obvious compassion for such a creature. Despite your hybrid nature, they still see you as one of us, and if you can care for Garuda, then there must be a redeeming quality in the beast. I’m sure this swayed them, but I didn’t for one moment believe that you really cared for him.”

  “He’s not a beast. His nature is not his fault.”

  Vasuki held up his hands. “Forgive me. Once again, this is a first. And, of course, you are correct. Garuda was a pawn for too long, and I admire your true compassion and the clarity you’re able to employ. But I would be remiss if I failed to warn you to guard your heart. He may no longer be forced to kill, but he will forever remain a predator of our kind. I’ve lost you too many times and don’t wish to lose you again.”

  So the other Malinas hadn’t cared for Garuda? Or had they cared too much and died for their troubles? Gah! Vasuki was either unwittingly revealing too much, or was trying to slip me information without seemingly breaking the rules. I just wished he could be clearer. I filed the information in my noggin for future reference.

  He ushered me into the room, his gold robes sweeping the ground with a swish.

  “Feel free to move about the north wing of the palace. If there is somewhere you are not supposed to go, guards will steer you clear.”

  “Thank you.”

  He reached up as if to cup my cheek, but lowered his hand with a soft sigh. “Someone will bring you your meals. I understand that, as a hybrid,
you need to eat more frequently, so I will inform the kitchens to keep you fed. It’s best you eat in these chambers. Your alternates made quite an impression on my people, and it wasn’t all positive.”

  “Like Harish?”

  His brows knit together. “Steer clear of Harish. He reaches too high and cares not whose head he crushes to get to the pinnacle.”

  “But aren’t you the pinnacle?”

  He smiled. “Exactly.”

  So Harish was into the whole political back-stabbery. I’d pegged him as a twat, and I’d been spot on. “I’ll be careful.”

  The door shut softly behind Vasuki, leaving me in a room that was pretty five-star compared to the cell I’d been in less than an hour ago. Silken fabrics, soft cushions, and plush rugs were the theme—pastels and creams, bright against the dark walls. The view was the pièce de résistance, though. A vista of ebony and gold dunes stretching far into the distance, interspersed with flashes of emerald and crimson where flora sprouted like jewels. Clusters of dome-shaped buildings dotted the distant hills—towns or villages, who knew?

  The bed wasn’t huge, but it was comfy as hell, and my tired butt thanked it. Guilt twisted in my gut—what the heck was I doing chilling out while Garuda sat in a stone cell waiting to have the skin ripped from his body? I should have done more to convince the judges that he had to go free, but if my alternates had failed where I’d succeeded, maybe I should just count my blessings. Garuda was immortal—he’d heal as long as he wasn’t dead—but I couldn’t just sit here twiddling my thumbs waiting for D-Day. I had to see him. That look of resignation in his eye when they’d announced the original sentence was bugging me.

  How hard would it be to find my way to the cells? I pulled open the doors to find Bhima standing there, carrying a tray laden with food.

  “Um . . . hi.”

  He smiled sweetly. “Hungry?”

  God, that smelled good. “Yes, actually.”

  But I really needed to see Garuda, to make sure he was all right. I glanced over his shoulder.