by Amy Raby
“I went through those same tests,” said Mandir.
“They decided I was, indeed, blessed with the Gift, and took me from my family.”
“Do you miss them?” asked Mandir. “Your family.”
“Of course,” said Taya. “My parents were strict, hard-working people—I was the fifth of six children—but they loved me. In the good years, when the Mothers blessed our orchard, we were happy. In the bad years, we struggled, same as any farming family. I loved the feasts and festivals at harvest time—”
“And the banana beer, apparently,” put in Mandir, drawing his arm a little tighter around her.
Taya nodded. “And the banana beer. When life is hard, you take what pleasures you can.”
“Were you angry when the Coalition took you away?”
“Not at all. They saved me from a fate I dreaded. I’d had my first moon blood, and my father was negotiating my marriage contract. It’s all luck, you know, whether you end up with a man who will cherish you or one who will beat you. Even if I’d been one of the lucky ones, my life, once I was married, would have been proscribed for me from sunup to sundown and beyond. I’d have toiled through the day in my husband’s fields and cooked and cleaned for him in the evenings. At night, I’d have lain in his bed, taken his seed, and borne his children. By the age of thirty, my body would have been that of an old woman.”
“Sacrilege, to ruin such a body as yours,” said Mandir.
She shrugged. “It is the way of things now that we’ve fallen from the Mothers’ embrace. But I’ll always be grateful to the Coalition for offering me an alternative. I struggled and suffered at Mohenjo Temple, in part because of you—”
“Sorry,” put in Mandir.
“But it was worth it. The Coalition gave me my education and my independence. They gave me fine clothes and money. They gave me Pepper.” She bit her lip, thinking suddenly of the mare. What had happened to her and to the blood bay when Zash had taken them captive? “Perhaps it does not mean so much to you. As Tufan’s son, you would have already had all those things.”
“Joining the Coalition was life-changing for me as well,” said Mandir. “But not for the same reasons. May I tell you something I’ve never told anyone? You have to promise not to laugh.”
She nodded. His tactic of getting her to calm down by talking was working. Her breathing had slowed to its normal rate, and she was resting quite comfortably in his arms, with just a buzz of apprehension reminding her that they were still in danger. After learning about his Year of Penance and the way it had changed him, she found that she wanted to know more about him.
“Were you aware of my father’s reputation?” asked Mandir.
She shivered. “Without doubt. Everyone knew that Tufan raided farming villages, often picking out a young woman and taking her back with him. Those women were never seen again.”
“I know what happened to them,” said Mandir. “But let’s not talk about that. Tufan was a truly evil man, and he had the raising of me for nine years. The man looked on us not as his children but as his playthings. It amused him to set my half-brothers and me against one another and see who would emerge victorious. In his household, it was fatal to show weakness. He beat two of my half-brothers to death for cowardice.”
For the first time in her life, Taya did not roll her eyes at Mandir’s tale of woe. She was beginning to feel some genuine sympathy for the confused, unhappy child he had once been. “I had no idea it was that bad.”
“I’m not saying this to make excuses for myself,” said Mandir. “After that first year in the Coalition, I ought to have figured out that Tufan’s household wasn’t normal and what I’d learned there shouldn’t be perpetuated. I carried my cruelty with me into the Coalition. But you already know that story, all too well I’m sure. I want to tell you about my mother.”
Taya blinked. Now that she thought about it, she’d heard plenty about Mandir’s father, Tufan, but she’d never once heard him mention his mother. Whoever she was, she couldn’t have been Tufan’s wife. Mandir was a bastard. “Who was she?”
“I’m sorry to say she was one of those young women Tufan picked out at a farm village,” said Mandir. “Back then he didn’t take the women back to his mansion. He lay with my mother in her farmhouse, against her will I’m sure, and the result was me. I lived with her for six years before Tufan learned of my existence.”
She turned her head, wanting to look into his eyes, but in the blackness she could not see him. “Your mother was a farmer?”
“Yes.”
Were it not for their situation, trapped underground and perhaps soon to die—not to mention she had made a promise—Taya might have laughed. But not because it was funny. Only because it was unexpected. “All this time, you were a farmer’s child like me? What a charlatan you were! You despised me for being farmer caste.”
“Perhaps you have some insight now as to why my hatred was so vehement. It was personal.”
“Did you hate your mother?”
“Not at all,” said Mandir. “But I’m ashamed to say I was embarrassed of her. Tufan had impressed upon me that he was strong and farmers were weak. And to all appearances, that seemed true. He kidnapped and violated them regularly, without consequences. I didn’t want to be a victim like my mother. I didn’t want to be weak, so I pretended that my farmer half didn’t exist. Of course, that left only Tufan as my ancestor, and I didn’t particularly want to be him either.”
“You cannot deny all sides of yourself,” said Taya.
“Back then, I gave it a good try,” said Mandir. “When I came to understand that I was infatuated with you, it horrified me. I thought that was my farmer roots showing, my lack of quality. Don’t take offense—I thought that way then, but I don’t now. One of my fears was that my ruling-caste friends would find out who I really was. Another was that my lust for farmer women came somehow from Tufan. I had his blood, after all, and if I didn’t fight the urge, someday I’d be the one out in the villages raping farmer women.”
“I had no idea you were so troubled,” said Taya. “You seemed so confident, so together, at Mohenjo.”
“Appearances deceive.” He took a deep breath. She felt his chest rise and fall. “Look, I abused you a lot back at Mohenjo, and—”
“You tried to kill me,” said Taya.
“Not on purpose,” said Mandir. “There’s more to the fire maze story, but now’s not the time to get into that. What I want you to know is that the entire time I knew you at Mohenjo, I acted hateful and contemptuous toward you. But it was an act. In secret, I respected you deeply.”
Taya blinked. “How can you say that, when you laughed at me and smashed my homework tablets?”
“In private, I marveled. How could you be so strong? You had no advantages, no education, and no friends. Tufan had taught me that farmers were weak. I thought you wouldn’t last a season at the Temple, but not only did you survive, you began to excel. I found that reality deeply confusing and threatening. Farmers were supposed to be weak, but you obviously were not. You forced me to rethink the things I’d learned at Tufan’s knee. He was wrong, and you were the proof of it.”
Her mind felt upended. Light was dark, and up was down. Every assumption she’d ever made about Mandir seemed to have been wrong. He’d hated farmers, but was half farmer caste himself. He’d tormented her while secretly admiring her.
“It takes a weight off my mind that you know that now,” said Mandir.
Taya stiffened in his embrace. “Why? Do you think we’re going to die?”
“I think we should make some plans,” said Mandir. “I believe Zash left us both alive because he intends to use one of us as leverage against the other.”
“As leverage how?”
“Say he wants you to use your magic to heal his trees. For that to be possible, he must allow your kimat to wear off. But when the kimat is worn off, you can easily burn him to death instead of helping him. He knows this. He needs leverage, a way to control y
ou. One way is to keep me prisoner and threaten to kill me if you don’t do as he says.”
“I’ll kill him and then go rescue you.”
“I’m going to assume he’s clever enough to have thought of a way to prevent you from doing that,” said Mandir. “When he comes back, I want us to make sure he uses me as the leverage—as the prisoner—and lets you go. Then, no matter what his instructions to you may be, you are to get on a horse and ride to the Coalition for help.”
“Won’t he kill you when he realizes I’m not going to do his bidding?”
Mandir half-shrugged. “Why would he? It does him no good once his bird has flown.”
“He might do it out of pique.”
“Let’s assume he’s rational,” said Mandir. “Killing me only gets him into deeper trouble, and he loses his leverage over you as well. On the other hand, if you follow his instructions, he’s not going to set either of us free. Why should he? Once he has what he wants, his best move is to kill us both and leave no witnesses.”
“If he kills us, the Coalition will come. They’ll investigate.”
“And by the time they figure out we’re missing and come looking for us, he’ll have had lots of time to hide the evidence. You must ride for the Coalition at your first opportunity.”
“It seems to me this plan gives me a much better chance of surviving than it does you.”
“I am your quradum,” said Mandir. “And you are a fire seer. It’s my duty to see that you get out of this alive.”
Taya could think of nothing to say. Over the past decade, she’d wished Mandir dead many a time. Now that his death was becoming a real possibility, she found it wasn’t what she wanted at all.
“Besides,” added Mandir, “after Mohenjo Temple, I owe you.”
“Not your life.”
“If you follow my instructions and run for the Coalition as I’ve instructed, you improve my odds of surviving.”
She wasn’t so sure. All she knew for certain was that she didn’t want him to die. Mandir was not quite the person she’d thought he was all those years. He’d made mistakes, serious ones, but he deserved a second chance.
Something he’d said before tugged at her consciousness. “What did you mean when you said there was more to the story about the fire maze?”
“It’s nothing.”
“If it’s nothing, then tell me.”
After a moment’s hesitation, he said, “I cannot.”
“Of course you can.”
“I am forbidden by the Coalition elders.”
How odd. Why would the Coalition entrust Mandir with a secret and keep it from her? “Tell me.”
A creak, as of a trapdoor opening, made them both jump. Light glimmered from above.
Chapter 35: Hrappa
The torchlight almost blinded Taya as it came into view. She flung her hands over her face. She’d wanted light, but this was too much, all stabbing into her eyes at once.
“Isn’t that sweet?” came a mocking voice. “Not just partners, but lovers.”
Taya felt Mandir’s arm snake more tightly around her. “Zashkalim,” said Mandir, “if you harm either one of us, the Coalition will burn you alive.”
Zash dragged something out of the dirt—a chair or stool, Taya thought. Blinded by the torchlight, she could see little except silhouettes. He sat on whatever it was. “I am a desperate man, else I should not have resorted to such a dangerous game.”
“You needn’t be desperate,” said Mandir. “Give us back our tablets and our kimat. Let us go, and we will forget this ever happened.”
Zash laughed. “You, too, are a desperate man. I know better than to trust someone in your circumstances. But you will get out of this alive, provided you give me what I want.”
Taya’s eyes were beginning to adjust. She lowered her hands from her face and looked at Zash. In his left hand, he held the torch. In his right, he held something small. She squinted, trying to make out what it was.
“What do you want?” asked Mandir.
“Two things,” said Zash. “Both of which should have been rightfully mine anyway. First, I want my banana plants healed. The Coalition healed them once, and the blight came back. It’s only fair, after all, that you should heal them again.”
“Coalition law does not permit it,” said Mandir.
“You have never been in harmony with that law,” said Zash. “You healed banana plants for the farmers in town, so why not mine?”
“We didn’t heal those plants,” said Taya. “It was someone else.”
Zash snorted. “There is no one else. I want every one of my trees returned to healthy perfection.”
Before Taya could protest again, Mandir growled, “What else?”
“I want Bodhan to forgive the debt I owe him.”
“That’s not something we can do,” said Taya. “You’ll have to speak to Bodhan.”
“No, you’ll speak to Bodhan,” said Zash. “You’ll walk into his house and threaten to burn him to a cinder if he doesn’t sign off on the debt. And you’re not to tell him I sent you.”
“It will be obvious,” said Taya.
“Not if you’re clever about it. Make him forgive all the debts, or a batch of them. Not just mine. Convince him however you like; just make sure he won’t come after me later.”
“If you want us to do these things, you cannot drug us with kimat,” said Mandir.
“I’m not a fool,” said Zash. “I only need one of you for this. Mandir, you will perform the tasks while Taya remains here as my hostage. I will free her when the tasks are completed to my satisfaction.”
“That won’t work,” said Mandir. “I have not the skill to heal trees.”
Taya tensed. Mandir was lying. He wanted her to be the one set free, so she could run to the Coalition for help.
“I’ve heard any Coalition member can do it,” said Zash.
“You heard wrong,” said Mandir. “It’s a specialized ability.”
“It requires a farming background,” added Taya. “Which I have, and he doesn’t.”
Zash frowned. “Very well. Taya goes, and Mandir stays.” He turned to Taya and raised his right arm. The small object he’d been concealing was a dart. “You’ll receive further instructions later.”
She covered Mandir’s body with her own, horrified at the thought that he should be drugged again.
Zash threw the dart, and it impaled itself not in Mandir’s flesh but in her own. She scrabbled for it, hoping to pull it out before the poison could seep into her veins. But the dart’s effects were immediate. Her arms moved slowly, as if she were dragging them through wet sand. Mandir was yelling and moving beneath her. She couldn’t make out the words. She lost consciousness.
∞
Taya woke to a rustling noise and a warm breeze on her face. At first, she didn’t open her eyes. She was leaning against a tree trunk, and the air smelled of bananas. The sensations took her back to her childhood, those days when she was too young to work in the fields and she could take a nap in the shade of the banana plant whenever she wished.
Those days were long past. Where was she, and what had brought her here?
She searched her memory, and roused instantly. She and Mandir had been kidnapped by Zash. The last thing she remembered was being in that dark, underground prison of his—and being hit by another poisoned dart.
She opened her eyes and found that she was indeed leaning against a banana plant. She appeared to be in the middle of Zash’s plantation. The sun was up and high in the sky. Since it had been evening when she and Mandir had ridden here, at least one day had passed, maybe two or three. There were no workers in the field, which was odd. She would have expected at least a few to be pruning suckers, pulling weeds, and netting bananas. But perhaps that work was futile with blighted plants.
What was she supposed to do? Heal his plants and something else. But Mandir had wanted her to do something different: to run for the Coalition and seek help. She rose on shaky legs and
staggered against the pseudostem of the banana plant. Whatever she’d been poisoned with had made her weak. Something heavy weighed on her chest, and she looked down to see a clay tablet resting on her shirt. She picked it up and read.
“I trust that, since you are reading this, you have awakened. By now, your kimat should have worn off and you will have your magic back. As we agreed earlier, your first task is to heal my plants of blight and any other diseases they may be suffering. For your convenience, I have deposited you in my banana field alone, so you may perform the job without witnesses. I expect you to do this immediately.
When the blight is gone, you may proceed to the other task we discussed.
I have Mandir in my custody, well hidden and drugged with kimat. Should you fail in your assigned tasks, or speak to anyone of our arrangement, or leave town to seek your Coalition friends, or betray me in any other way, he will die.
I am aware that you may be tempted to seek me out and threaten me directly. For this reason, I have hidden myself and will not reappear until your tasks are complete.
I have taken an additional precaution and dosed you with a slow-acting poison. For obvious reasons, I cannot tell you which one it is. Suffice to say that there is an antidote, and I have it in my possession. Without it, you will be dead inside of three days. Finish these tasks before the three days are over, or I am afraid they must of necessity fall to your partner.”
Taya swallowed. Three days? That was all she had left to live?
Mandir had not anticipated the slow-acting poison.
How long ago had she been poisoned? Did she have three days starting now, or three days from when she first fell unconscious, which could be as much as a day earlier? Or more than a day earlier, as far as she knew.
Surely Zash would not want her dying before she had a chance to accomplish what he’d asked of her. She probably had at least two full days left. Maybe a third, but she wouldn’t count on it.
Mandir had said to run for the Coalition, and she’d reluctantly agreed to do so. But she couldn’t possibly do that now. Even on a good horse—and she had no idea where Pepper was—it was at least five days’ ride to Rakigari Temple. She would not make it.