The Bookweaver's Daughter

by Malavika Kannan

  There was no time to debate the point. He and Niam exchanged terse nods of understanding. With that, the four of us began to run, the battle searing through the city.

  —

  As the sun sank down and the shadows got thicker, the Renegades were backed up yard by yard until we were only a mile from the city’s center in any direction.

  Sometimes it was Nina at my side, slashing enemies with her sword like she’d been doing it all her life. Other times, it was Niam pulling me forward, Roshan’s arrows whistling through the blur of tangled smoke. The fights raged as we headed downtown towards the Red Temple, but I knew it wasn’t going to be enough.

  Niam led us through a side alley. There was a gap in the street where a building had collapsed, and for the first time, I saw Bharata cracking under pressure.

  I had seen losing fights before, but the battle before me was like nothing I’d ever watched.

  The Renegades were trying to seize the Red Temple’s cannons, but the imperial soldiers were putting up a spirited fight. Even more of them were returning from the fortress, which could only mean one thing: uptown had fallen.

  Everything seemed to slow down as another explosion rocked the Red Temple, sending flames arcing down the street. My senses deadened, as though I was hearing it all through a curtain.

  I didn’t need to see any of the carnage. I just needed to look at my uncle’s shattered eyes to know that it was all over.

  Next to me, Nina groaned, and my senses started working at once: I heard the collective wail of a defeated army as the Renegades were swamped, saw the fire engulf the sky, and felt the smoke pool deep within my lungs.

  Roshan looked back at me urgently. “You both shouldn’t be here,” he said.

  I hesitated, and he touched my shoulder softly. “You were brave tonight,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

  I opened my mouth, but no words occurred to me. We had gambled an entire city, and we had lost. What was left to say?

  He nodded sadly at me, like he understood exactly how I felt. Then he and Niam turned and rushed into the fray.

  The Flying Tiger was empty when Nina and I returned. Even the old barman had gone; I wondered briefly whether he was still alive. The tables were cleared, chairs stacked neatly in rows, as though the bar had finally closed for business.

  I followed Nina down the darkened steps into the basement. She found a lantern and lit it, engulfing the small room in light. The stone walls of the Flying Tiger muffled the noise from the street fights, which I was grateful for.

  At last, Nina spoke. “What do you think will happen now?”

  I was silent for a moment. “I don’t know. Hopefully Roshan will be back soon.”

  I didn’t want to have a plan, not now, not anymore. I didn’t want to be responsible for my own survival. For once, I wanted someone else to take care of me, to tell me what to do.

  “Do you—do you think there’s any way we can leave Bharata now?”

  I took a deep breath, the fear descending like billowing silk. “How do you expect me to know that, Nina?”

  She didn’t say anything else after that, and although I felt bad for snapping, I was relieved that I no longer had to answer to her. Because I didn’t need any more reminders that tonight’s disaster was all my fault.

  My thoughts were interrupted by a noise outside: another gong.

  Nina and I glanced at each other. Without another word, we tore back up the steps and into the bar. She stood behind me as I lifted a corner of the window curtain to look outside.

  Standing along the corner of every street was a soldier with a gong, creating a message system that crisscrossed the city. As one, the soldiers rung the gongs again and recited a message, their voices echoing in unison through the deserted street.

  “His Majesty, King Jahan, applauds the bravery of Bharata,” they said. Their uniform precision was truly eerie. “However, your time has come. Already, you have lost nearly a thousand men and surrendered the cannons and the fortress. Your defeat will be soon, and it will be swift.”

  Next to me, Nina pressed her ear into the glass, trying to listen better.

  “But there is no need for that, because his Majesty is not without mercy. He wishes to offer Bharata a trade: one life in exchange for thousands spared.”

  I didn’t dare look at Nina, too terrified of missing a word—

  “Bring us Reya Kandhari or Nina Nadeer to the Red Temple clock tower, and the bloodshed will end.”

  Then—“You have until midnight.”

  The soldiers rang their gongs again and filed away. I shrank back from the window, heart pounding. Behind me, I could hear Nina’s rapid breathing. “Nina—”

  “Don’t even think about it,” snarled Nina. There was something behind her expression that I couldn’t discern, but it gutted me—for the first time, I was seeing her panic.

  I hesitated, and she seized my arm. “Take one more step towards the door, and I swear I’ll—”

  She practically dragged me down the basement stairs, slamming the door and flinging me into a chair.

  I tried again. “Nina,” I said. “Shouldn’t we at least discuss this?”

  She looked angrier than I’d ever seen her. “What’s there to say that hasn’t already been said twenty times over?” she demanded. “You are not turning yourself in to the king. That’s final.”

  I was the one who was angry now. I understood, then, what my father had meant when he said that anger only came from fear or love: I couldn’t let Nina go, and neither could she.

  “Damn it, Nina!” I snapped. “How am I supposed to let thousands of innocent people die because I didn’t turn myself in? How many people are worth my life?”

  Despite myself, I glanced at the clock—less than two hours until midnight. We were running out of time.

  I whirled on her. “And you! You cannot turn yourself in, either. You’ve already lost so much because of me.”

  “Don't flatter yourself,” said Nina coldly. “You don't hold a monopoly on all of the pain in my life that has led me to this point.”

  Her voice was furious, but I was glad that Nina was fighting back—at least her anger provided a small, although misguided, outlet for my guilt.

  She seemed to sense this, because when Nina next spoke, her voice was gentle. “But this isn’t about me. You're a hero, Reya. You're a symbol to so many people. If you give up now, the Renegades—and your father—died for nothing.”

  Blood pounded in my ears.

  “I’M NOT WORTH DYING FOR!” I screamed, and before I could control it, the magic surged through my nerves for the second time in my life.

  The table before me cracked in half.

  Nina gasped as splinters flew everywhere—one grazed her cheek, and leaving a shallow cut. The sight of her blood sent spasms of terror down my spine, and I felt the magic recede.

  “Oh my god, Nina, I’m so sorry—”

  She staggered back, and for a moment all I could see was the horror on her face. It hit me in that terrifying, towering moment—I had hurt my best friend. She was afraid of me.

  Nina disguised her reaction, but the damage had been done. Guilt made me feel as though my heart was being poked with a cold rod, and I fell back into the chair.

  “Reya,” said Nina quietly. “Let’s make a deal.”

  I looked up at her through my tears. Nina continued. “I will not turn myself in if you swear that you won’t, either.”

  She waited for my response, but I could only manage a weak nod. My mind was already planning for what would have to happen tonight.

  Nina was tearing up a little too. “Reya. I need you to promise.”

  Somehow, I managed to find a smile and plaster it onto my face. “I promise, Nina,” I said.

  She stared deep into my eyes as if looking for deceit, but she couldn't find any, because I was made of stone, and stone doesn't feel.

  All I could see was her wounded cheek. She touched my shoulder gently, as if she couldn’t fe
el her injury. I knew she was pretending.

  Nina blew out the lamps and there was nothing but silence until both of us were asleep. I knew what I had to do.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  My eyes adjusted to the darkness when I awoke an hour later. Nina’s sleeping form was a dark shadow near the window. I climbed up the stairs without creaking, slipping my father’s pearl into my pocket for safekeeping. And then I walked away from my best friend.

  “I’d die for you,” Nina had told me at the tavern, and in that moment, I knew what I had to do. Because when you cared about someone, you were a goner. You put their life before yours, no matter how painful it felt, even if it meant giving up your own.

  My heart rattled as I walked past the shuttered windows; the faintest cracks of light shone through the hastily boarded doors. I was painfully aware that I was racing against the clock—not just against the clock tower which ticked towards midnight, but against the unstoppable passage of time that had been propelling me towards this for the past seven years.

  Still, it hurt. It was true, plain and bald: in spite of it all, I was afraid. Would my father be proud of me for dying, or would he be ashamed? I didn’t know. I don’t know.

  I could see it now: the Red Temple, dwarfed beneath the enormous clock tower. Standing at the base of the Temple was a group of imperial soldiers. I shrank into the shadows, glancing up at the clock face—five minutes until midnight. It wasn’t too late to turn back.

  Behind me, someone gasped, and I whirled around into the darkness.

  I heard a match strike—then a lantern bloomed to life, and I was staring into a pair of familiar gray eyes.

  “Nina?”

  She pulled back the lantern to illuminate her face, and my heart sunk.

  “Reya,” she said. “You were going to turn yourself in?”

  “Nina,” I said, and my voice cracked. “You need to go back, where it’s safe.” I could tell her hands were shaking from the way the light bobbed, casting shadows around the alley.

  “And let you go and turn yourself into those soldiers? No way.”

  I might have laughed at the irony. After all we had been through, Nina was going to be the one who prevented me from saving her life.

  “Come on, Nina,” I murmured. “You and I both know that this is the only way it can end. It’s always been the only way.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. “No,” she whispered, almost childishly. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Wait a minute,” I hissed. “What are you doing here, Nina?”

  Nina looked down, and the betrayal felt like a dull punch to my gut. “You were going to turn yourself in,” I said. “After we specifically agreed that you needed to stay safe.”

  Her face fell. “You’re the Bookweaver, for God’s sake,” she said. “This is a sacrifice I’m willing to make. Not just because you’re a Yogi, but because you’re my best friend.”

  There was no time to argue, not when five minutes remained before the city of Bharata went down in flames. Each beat of my heart was a tick of the clock, but in that moment, my breath was steady.

  I turned and ran towards the Red Temple. I heard her anguished cry behind me as I collided with the soldier who seemed to have materialized out of nowhere.

  It all happened so fast—I was seized by the arm, and before I could stop her, Nina had rushed into the Temple to protect me. My stupid, compassionate, courageous best friend tried to save me from a dozen armed soldiers, tried to save me from my martyr aspirations. She couldn’t.

  We were overpowered in seconds and thrown to the ground. Nina was dragged one way, and I was dragged another.

  I saw her dark head disappear into the depths of the Red Temple, and that was the last thing I saw before something long and slender—a needle—appeared in the periphery of my vision, piercing my neck, and everything flickered—

  Despite everything, all I could think about was something my father told me in his final days.

  He said that sometimes, what we think was meant for us doesn’t exist. We may bleed for it, we may sweat for it, and we may even die for it, but what we search for cannot always be ours.

  —

  When I opened my eyes, all I could see was brightness. Was this what the afterlife looked like?

  I blinked rapidly and watched the world come into focus.

  I was sitting inside what appeared to be a ship—I could tell from the rhythmic swaying of the waters below. Through the small window, enclosed by bars, early daylight streamed.

  “Nina?” I shouted.

  “You awake, witch?”

  I turned in alarm to see two helmeted soldiers standing before me. I tried to get up but realized I couldn't—I was strapped by the arms to my seat. Panic hit me in a dizzying wave, and I struggled to keep my heartbeat under control.

  “I—what’s going on? Where are we going?”

  The soldier pulled off his helmet, and my stomach tightened in hatred. It was Prince Devendra.

  He looked well, considering the fact that he’d been gonged in the face and left for dead.

  “That doesn’t concern you,” he said.

  He and his fellow soldier stepped in front of me. In spite of my situation, I felt smug satisfaction at the sight of the bandages across his forehead.

  Devendra paced back and forth musingly.

  “For the most wanted person in Kasmira, you’re not particularly powerful,” he said. “Here I was chasing you across the kingdom, preparing myself to fight a hardened Mage, someone worthy of being the Bookweaver’s daughter. But you have no idea what you’re doing, do you?”

  “I could say the same about you,” I said, before I could stop myself. “I hope you’ll invest in better armor, now that Nina and I have beaten you up on two separate occasions.”

  He smirked. “You’re nothing but bluster,” he said. “But you’re my ticket back into my father’s good graces, so I’m not complaining. Let’s get started.”

  The crown prince pulled off his cloak and threw it on the ground, revealing scarred, muscled arms.

  “You’re under arrest for treason, inciting rebellions, illegal magic—the list goes on. So if you want to survive this, I’d suggest you start talking to us.”

  Devendra pulled up a chair, but I wasn’t paying attention. My mind was racing.

  Why was I still breathing? Devendra had certainly gotten the chance to kill me back at the Red Temple. There was only one explanation: he was taking me back to the Raj. The king wanted me alive.

  “As imperial commander and heir to the Zakir throne,” said Devendra, interrupting my thoughts, “most traitors don’t get the honor of being interrogated by me. You should count yourself incredibly lucky—or unlucky.”

  “Please,” I said. “You’re just a kid with daddy issues.”

  He flinched, but the shadow over his face passed quickly. “I could say the same about you,” he said. He shook his hair out of his eyes, all haughtiness returned. “Tell me, how did it feel when I blew up half your pathetic friends? What’d they call themselves— the Renegades?”

  He laughed—terribly, easily.

  I raised my eyebrows and leaned back in my chair, successfully hiding my fury.

  “Where’s Nina?” I asked.

  Devendra shrugged. “That doesn't concern you,” he said. “If you're sitting on a chair before me, you should be a lot more worried about yourself.”

  He was already studying my reaction in measured, sweeping glances.

  I smiled. “Your concern is appreciated,” I said. “Now, if you don't mind, can we get on with it?”

  Devendra smiled back. If it wasn’t for the cruelty in his eyes, he was almost handsome.

  “I have a feeling you’re the key to it all,” he said. “What makes you so special, Kandhari, that the city of Bharata, which has remained uneasy but silent for seven years, risked everything for you?”

  I sunk back into my chair. “Believe me, I’m still asking myself that. Next question.” />
  The other soldier opened his mouth indignantly, but Devendra silenced him with a hand. “Fair enough. Who was the leader of the rebellion?”

  “Where is Nina?” I repeated. “I know that you have her, Zakir. Tell me, how did it feel when she smashed your pretentious little face into next week?”

  Devendra’s eyebrows raised imperceptibly, but he didn’t react. “I'm not going to tell you anything,” he said.

  I smirked. “Neither am I.”

  Now the prince was starting to get riled, and my inner fighter cheered, but only for an instant, because Devendra had a new question. “Have it your way, Kandhari. In that case, what do you know about the Renegades?”

  His eyes met mine, and I felt his purple-ringed pupils swallow me whole. Because I was screwed, and I knew it. How long could I survive an imperial interrogation? And where was King Jahan?

  “Clearly, more than you know about economics,” I said. “Because the way I understand it, two parties can't make a trade unless they both have something to offer. So unless you're going to tell me where Nina is, I know nothing about the Renegades.”

  For the first time, Devendra looked truly angry. He stood up, knocking his chair over with a clatter. At his full height, he towered over me. “You stupid little—”

  His voice was drowned out by an ear-splitting lurch as our ship ground to a halt. The impact sent my chair skidding down a foot; Devendra himself nearly lost his balance. He jerked up angrily. “What the—”

  On the deck above us, the cabin door burst open and someone descended the wooden steps. A pair of legs appeared first, sheathed in black satin, until the entire woman had come into view. In a horrible moment, I recognized her to be Lady Sharati, the veiled Mage who had nearly captured me at the river.