Poison's Cage

by Breeana Shields

  Fazel laughs. “And then what? Knock on the door and ask if we can hide out for a while?”

  “Yes,” I tell him. “I know someone there who might be able to help us.”

  “Who?”

  I bite my lip. “The rajakumar.”

  His eyes widen. “The rajakumar? You know the prince of Sundari?”

  I shrug. “A little.”

  “You are full of surprises,” Fazel says, and I can’t help feeling a tug of satisfaction at the expression of wonder on his face. Now I just have to hope that Deven is at the palace. And that he’ll be willing to help us.

  My mind is like a floor covered in broken glass. No matter which way my thoughts turn, they run into sharp edges that pierce and slice and make me bleed.

  If Balavan is my father, what does that say about me? That the raw materials used to make me are flawed? That I was broken before I was ever born? I’ve always mourned the fact that the snakes poisoned my blood. But if Balavan is my father, maybe it already came that way.

  Mani’s gentle snores rumble through the room. He’s been out for hours. Deven is lying next to me on the floor, his breathing deep and even, one hand buried in my hair. It seems I’m the only one who heard the crack as the world split in two. I’m the only one who can’t imagine relaxing enough to rest ever again.

  And yet…my eyes grow heavy and I lurch into a fitful sleep. I toss and turn and wake suddenly in a cold sweat, only to stumble into nightmares again. When I finally open my eyes to a room filled with soft light from the gray dawn, a headache pulses in my temples. I touch Deven’s shoulder. He stretches and scoots into a sitting position. His hair sticks up in all directions, and despite the pain in my head, the sight of him pulls a smile from me.

  “Good morning,” he says through a yawn.

  But I don’t answer. Because the sofa Mani slept on last night is empty, except for a tangled pile of blankets.

  “Mani?” I jump to my feet and hurry to the back of the cottage. “Mani?”

  Deven follows close behind me. “Mani?” he calls, his voice tinged with as much panic as my own. “Where are you?”

  Vara hurries from the back bedroom in a pumpkin-colored silk robe. Her dark hair falls in a long braid at her back. “What’s wrong?”

  “Mani is missing.” My breath comes in small gasps.

  Her eyes go soft with concern, and she touches me gently on the elbow. “He can’t have gone far, love. We’ll find him.”

  But something is wrong—it seeps into my bones like an icy wind. The three of us search through the cottage, opening every cabinet, peeking under every piece of furniture, calling Mani’s name in increasingly alarmed voices. But it’s no use. He’s not here.

  I run to the front door and yank it open. The chill mountain air slaps me in the face and steals the breath from my lungs. “Mani?”

  Deven follows me outside and pulls me into his arms. I bury my face in his chest, and he rests his chin on the top of my head.

  Vara joins us outside. She shivers and pulls her robe tightly around her body. “He’s probably just exploring,” she says. “He wouldn’t have just wandered off in the middle of the night.”

  Deven’s arms tense around me before they fall away. “Actually, he might have.”

  Vara tilts her head. “What do you mean?”

  “He has nightmares,” Deven says. “And sometimes he wanders.”

  I make a strangled sound at the back of my throat. “He wanders?” At the waterfall Deven told me that Mani had started walking in his sleep, and I pictured him stumbling around his bedroom, bumping into furniture. But this—disappearing from the top of a mountain—it’s more than sleepwalking.

  I go to the edge of the cliff and peer at the sheer path that leads downward. My stomach pitches at the sight. “He could be dead.”

  “He’s not dead,” Deven says, but I’m not sure if he’s trying to convince me or himself.

  Vara pinches the bridge of her nose. “I can’t imagine he would have tried to make his way down,” she says. “What could he have been thinking?”

  Her comment lights a spark in my mind. I turn toward Deven. “Search for bugs,” I tell him.

  A crease appears between his brows. “Bugs?”

  “Or small rodents—mice, gophers, moles—anything will work.”

  “Marinda.” He says my name carefully, like he’s trying to get me to back away from a cliff. “How will that—”

  “Just do it,” I say, spinning around and running into the cottage.

  I find my satchel on the floor near the sofa and coax the snakes onto my lap. All five of them are hungry, and their minds pulse with worry and dread. I don’t know if the emotions are their own or if they’re only reflecting my own thoughts back to me.

  I need your help, I tell them.

  The snakes’ minds bend toward mine, eager. Just then Deven walks into the cottage and freezes. I know how it must look to him—five small white bodies wrapped around my arms, when only a few months ago even the thought of being in the same room with a snake made me break out in hives. But this is different. My snakes are only babies, and they’re loyal to me, not Kadru.

  “Where do you want these?” He doesn’t quite meet my eyes as he holds out his cupped palms. Dirt clings to his knuckles and fingernails, and a handful of beetles wriggle against his skin.

  I dip my head toward the rug. “Come sit with me.”

  Deven lowers himself to the floor. He’s grown a hint of stubble overnight, and I have the sudden urge to run my thumb along his jaw. Instead I clear my throat and hold up one of the snakes. “This is Jasu,” I say. “And I hope she can help us find Mani.”

  His expression shutters, and for a moment I worry that he’s going to ignore me. Or worse, storm out of the cottage. But then, in a soft voice, he says, “How?”

  Vara comes inside and sits in a chair across the room. If she’s shocked by the scene before her, she doesn’t show it.

  I absently run my fingers down the length of Jasu’s body while I try to find the words. “Ever since the Nagaraja entered my mind in the cave…” I swallow. This is harder than I thought. “I’ve been able to command snakes.”

  Deven’s sharp intake of breath sends a stab of pain through me. “I’m not turning into Kadru,” I tell him. His eyes narrow just a fraction. “I’m not. It’s just, when I realized that I could see inside their minds and that they could see inside the minds of other people…”

  “You knew you could use them to help you spy on the Naga,” Vara says.

  I turn toward her. “Yes,” I say, talking only to Vara now, but hoping Deven will hear, will listen. “I stole several snake eggs. I waited for them to hatch and then I trained them. It’s how I found out about Bagharani.” My gaze flicks to Deven. “And how I found out that Iyla is missing.”

  Deven stands and chews on his bottom lip. He shifts his weight. “So how will the snakes help us find Mani?”

  “They’re hungry right now,” I say. “But I’m hoping once they’ve eaten—once they can focus—they’ll be able to remember Mani’s thoughts last night. And, with any luck, that will give us a hint about where he’s gone.”

  “Clever girl,” Vara says. “Let’s hope it works.”

  I pluck the insects from Deven’s palm one by one, and as I feed the snakes, I nudge their minds toward Mani. At first I can’t get them to focus on anything except the sensation of food—the crunching of tiny bodies, the gulping and swallowing. But then, eventually, their stomachs fill and their thoughts are more easily guided.

  Focus on Mani, I tell them. What was he thinking about last night? When Jasu finally finds a thread of thought that I recognize as my brother’s, a pulse of horror seizes my heart. Her impression of Mani’s mind has a familiar quality to it—the hypnotic pull toward the will of another, the sense of being swallowed up and consumed. It’s exactly the way I felt both times the Nagaraja took control of my mind. What if the Snake King formed a connection with Mani when he bit him? Wh
at if Mani’s nightmares are more than just dreams? What if Balavan can control Mani like I can control the snakes? The room starts slowly spinning. I’ve forgotten how to breathe. Jasu’s panic presses her thoughts even more firmly into my mind, like stepping on a rock in wet sand. And there are only two clear words she can remember from Mani’s sleep-fogged mind—palace and Nagaraja.

  I spin toward Deven and Vara. “I think…I think he went to the Naga palace.” The words feel strangled as they leave my throat.

  The snakes scurry back into the satchel as if they already know we’re leaving. And we are. We’re leaving now.

  But I’ll never get there in time. Deven must see the stricken look on my face, because he takes my hand. “Maybe Mani didn’t leave that long ago,” he says. “Maybe we can still catch him.”

  “Maybe,” I say. But I don’t believe it. If I’m right about Balavan being able to control Mani, then he already has my brother. And he likely provided a faster way for Mani to get down the mountain. It’s already too late.

  Suddenly my ability to communicate with the snakes seems more like a curse than a gift—one more thing that connects me to Balavan. One more thing that proves we’re alike. The thought curdles in my stomach.

  I climb to my feet and turn in a slow circle around the cottage, as if I might find answers scrawled on the walls or dangling from the rafters. But there’s only emptiness. And silence. And a hopelessness so thick that it makes the air hard to breathe.

  Vara touches my elbow and I yank away from her. I’m too broken to be touched.

  “I can help,” she says.

  My cheeks are wet and my legs feel spongy, like they might give out at any moment. “I don’t see how.”

  She cups my face in her hands and looks at me with the kind of tenderness usually reserved for children. “Tell me where we’re going, love, and I’ll fly you there.”

  We fly over the mountains so fast that it feels like pieces of me are falling away. Or maybe it’s just the sensation of my heart breaking.

  I wish I could wind back time like a ribbon on a spool. I wish I could start over and make different choices—to leave Sundari forever instead of trying to take down the Naga, to go so far that they would never be able to find me.

  Mani would be safe then. I wouldn’t know I was Balavan’s daughter. I wouldn’t feel so powerless.

  The landscape blurs beneath me and I squeeze my eyes closed.

  A few minutes later, at the edge of the rain forest, Garuda unclenches her feet and releases me and Deven from her grip. This time I’m prepared and I land softly on the ground. I turn to see the giant bird shrinking, her form growing fuzzy at the edges as she changes. It’s not until she’s fully human again that I see there’s something wrong. Vara’s skin is ashen, and her hair is pasted to her damp forehead. She’s trembling.

  I rush to her side. “What’s wrong?”

  She tries to take a step, but she falters and nearly falls. “It’s been too long,” she says, clutching my arm. “Becoming Garuda twice in such a short time…” She trails off, and it takes a moment for her to catch her breath. “It’s too much.”

  A weight settles on my heart. We can’t just leave her here. But I’m desperate to get to Mani—the feeling burns in my lungs like I’m underwater.

  Vara gives me a weary smile. “Go,” she says. “I’ll be fine.”

  But she won’t. She’s struggling to remain upright. Her eyes are glassy.

  My gaze flicks to Deven. “Will you stay with her?”

  His expression goes tight around the eyes. He shakes his head. “No. I’m not letting you go alone. Balavan could kill you.”

  “If he decides to kill me, there won’t be anything you can do about it.” The truth of the statement trembles between us for a long moment before Deven sighs and runs a hand over his face.

  “I don’t like it,” he says. It’s as close as I’ll get to a concession.

  Deven takes Vara’s arm and helps her sit. Her back rests against a thick tree trunk, and her head is tipped toward the sky, eyes closed, as if she’s already asleep and dreaming of flying.

  “Take care of her,” I say, squeezing Deven’s fingers before I turn and walk away.

  “Marinda, wait.” Deven jogs toward me and wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me tightly against him. His lips meet mine, at first soft and then urgent—like the kiss is a message in a language only we understand. Like it’s a goodbye. I pull away while I still have the strength.

  “Be careful.” Deven says the words against my mouth, so that I swallow them. So that they become part of me.

  I run my knuckles across his scruffy jaw without making any promises. I can’t afford to be careful. Not when I need to be brave.

  “Marinda.” Deven’s voice frays at the edges. I can tell what he wants to say. Don’t go. But he knows me well enough not to say it. I take his hand in mine and press a kiss to his palm. His skin is warm, and it takes all the restraint I have not to wrap myself up in him.

  But when I start up the path to the Naga palace, I don’t look back.

  The guards are missing. The abandoned trail curves in front of me like a beckoning finger. Panic flutters in my chest. It’s a trap. And my only choice is to walk into it with my eyes wide open.

  As I climb the steep staircase that leads to the front door, the only sound is my sandals slapping against the stone. The rain forest is as silent as a held breath.

  I enter the palace without knocking. Amoli isn’t in the foyer to greet me or to ask me where I’ve been.

  I reach for Jasu’s mind to see if she can find Mani, and then, with a sharp stab of regret, I realize that in all the commotion and worry about Vara, I left my satchel behind. My mouth goes dry. The snakes can’t access Balavan’s mind anyway, but I still feel defenseless without them. The thought sparks a memory, and I rush to my bedchamber.

  The room looks more or less as I left it, though the bed has been made—the silky coverlet is pulled taut and covered with artfully placed pillows. The platters of food have been cleared away. But there’s still a sari draped over one of the chairs, as if Amoli thought I might return at any moment and need something clean to wear. I hope that means she wasn’t too thorough when she tidied up.

  I kneel beside the mahogany wardrobe and reach into the far corner. It takes a moment of fumbling in the dark before my hand closes around the jewel-encrusted dagger I took on the day we questioned Pranesh.

  I thought Iyla was being ridiculous when she insisted I choose a weapon—I thought I was the last person in the world who needed another way to kill—and until a few moments ago I’d almost forgotten I had it at all. But now I make a mental note to tell her she was right. Fresh pain seizes me. If I ever see her again. The wound of losing Iyla is still too raw to acknowledge for more than a moment at a time.

  I pull in a deep breath and try to empty my mind of every thought except confronting Balavan and getting Mani back.

  The dagger probably won’t help me with either of those things, but I like the weight of it in my hand. It gives me something to hold on to. Some promise that I’m not as powerless as I feel.

  The corridor is as tomb silent as the rest of the palace. I take off my sandals and sling them over one finger so that I can slip quietly toward Balavan’s rooms. My heart flutters like hummingbird wings against my rib cage. What if the snakes were wrong? What if Mani isn’t here at all?

  I ease the door open and my breath catches. Balavan sits on the floor with his legs crossed and his hands resting softly on his knees. His eyes are closed, and his head is tipped upward as if in prayer.

  The pose is so relaxed, so unconcerned, that it makes me want to shake him until his eyes rattle from their sockets. I clear my throat, and his eyes fly open.

  “Where is Mani?”

  Balavan blinks. He shakes his head, disoriented, like he’s been startled from sleep.

  “Where is my brother?” A range of emotions flit over his face until finally he seems to regist
er my presence.

  And then he laughs.

  Rage explodes in my chest. I stride forward and slap him hard across the face. My fist tightens around the dagger in my other hand, and I swing it toward his neck. But I’m too slow. Balavan catches my wrist and twists it sharply. I gasp at the sudden jolt of pain. The weapon falls from my fingers and clatters to the floor.

  He clucks his tongue like I’m a misbehaving child. His hold on my wrist softens, and he absently runs his thumb over the scars there. “Poor rajakumari,” he says. “How you’ve suffered.”

  I yank away from him, and my gaze darts around the room. “Where is Mani?”

  Balavan rises to his feet. “You can’t possibly think he’s here.”

  My certainty wobbles, but I try to keep my expression blank. It’s only a game, and Balavan is trying to keep the upper hand. “I know he’s here,” I say.

  “Do you?” Balavan’s eyes glitter. He’s taking too much satisfaction in this. Which means I’m wrong about something.

  My heart gives a slow pulse of dread.

  “He’s just a little boy,” I say, and my voice sounds small and far away. “He’s done nothing to you. If you want to hurt someone, hurt me.”

  “Oh, Marinda, my love.” Balavan steps close to me and tucks a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “Mani has actually done a great deal for me. I don’t want to hurt him. I want to use him.” He laughs. “And unlike you, he’s more than happy to oblige.”

  My stomach lurches. “What are you talking about?” I ask. “Use him for what?”

  His fingertips move along the curve of my cheek. “For whatever I want.”

  I was right. Balavan can control Mani. A whirlpool of emotion rages inside me. “Where is he?” I ask softly. “What did you do?”

  “I didn’t do anything. But your brother…he’s in Colapi City delivering what I hope will be a crushing blow to our enemies.”

  The words fall like knives.

  I chose the wrong palace.

  When the snakes showed me the words Nagaraja and palace, I just assumed that Mani would be here. Not at the Raja’s palace. I press a palm to my chest to try to keep my heart from escaping.