“The pallet should hold us both,” she said.
Ravi looked surprised. “Are . . . are you sure?”
She smiled. “Yes. I trust you.”
Ravi hesitated a moment longer, but the promise of a soft place to lay his head must have been too alluring, because he finally climbed onto the pallet behind her.
They lay back to back.
She could feel him breathing, his back rising and falling against hers, and sleep slipped away. She closed her eyes, working at synchronizing their breaths. Long moments dragged by while sleep continued to play hide and seek with her. She exhaled in exasperation. Her body ached with fatigue. She closed her eyes and saw their faces, the ones cut down, the ones she had saved; the tiny children she had hid in the temple. She tensed, horrified.
“Are you awake?” she whispered.
“Yes.”
“Do you think anyone escaped . . . the children in the temple?” Oh God please say yes.
Ravi shuffled and she realized he was turning over. She shifted too, turning so they were face to face.
Flames flickered in his eyes. Priya stared into their depths mesmerized by their intensity as they roved over her face.
“We can only hope they did.” He smiled reassuringly, but it failed to touch his eyes.
Her own filled with tears. She should have gone back for them, found a way to take them with her. Instead she had run, saving her own skin.
“No. Don’t think that! We did what we could. If we had taken the children they would have frozen to death; they would never have survived the journey.”
She wiped her cheeks with her sleeve. It was uncanny how easily he could read her. And he was right, but it did little to dispel the piercing guilt that clawed at her belly.
She ducked her head, pressing her forehead against his chest. After a moment he slipped his arm over her, pulling her into his embrace. She closed her eyes, inhaling him, sighing as sleep finally began to steal over her.
She tilted her head to gaze up at him. “Thank you . . . for being here, for taking care of me.”
He closed his eyes, extinguishing the mesmerizing twin flames, and exhaled slowly. “I will always be there for you, Priya. You have nothing to fear. Sleep now.”
With his warm breath brushing the top of her head she drifted into a dreamless sleep.
It was the chill that woke her. Brushing against the nape of her neck like a creepy caress. She blinked herself fully out of sleep and sat up.
The pallet beside her was cold and empty.
Ravi was gone.
The fire was down to smouldering embers.
Her mind told her to wait, Ravi was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, but her gut told her to go after him. Papa would have urged her to listen to her intuition, so slipping from the pallet she quickly moved toward the door. One peek outside and she quickly backpedaled to the hearth where she used the remains of the fire to light the old, dusty lantern.
Brandishing the lantern like a weapon against the inky night, she relinquished the safety of the hut.
Outside, a strange, musky scent hit the back of her nose. She coughed, her eyes watering. Wiping the moisture away with the back of her sleeve, she set off on a quick circuit of the hut. Maybe Ravi had gone to fetch more wood for the fire? The pile of wood and the axe buried in a log told her otherwise. Regardless, she had to be sure he wasn’t nearby.
The hut wasn’t very large, and the circuit she made, accompanied by the strong musky scent, confirmed only what her gut was already screaming.
Ravi was in danger.
She dithered, torn between following the sensible path, or the path of the foolish hero.
She’d always struggled with sensibility.
Holding the lantern before her to illuminate the frozen ground, she searched for his footprints. She found them soon enough, leading away from the hut. She followed the trail and stopped, staring at the huge animal tracks that surrounded the ground around her in dawning comprehension.
Her pulse hammered in her throat as she looked wildly about her for more of Ravi’s tracks but found none.
A howl ripped through the night air, as loud as a boom from one of the invader’s batons, and Priya backtracked quickly. She was almost back at the hut when shame grabbed her by the throat and shook her hard. What kind of person was she to run from aiding a friend in need? Would Ravi simply leave her to die?
The answer was simple. She’d go back, and she’d save him. She didn’t question whether he was alive, choosing to trust her instincts. First though she had to find a weapon.
Filled with purpose she ran back to the hut and round the back where she’d stumbled over the axe.
Pulling it from the log she practiced a few swipes. It cut through the air with a satisfying whistle.
Making sure she had a good grip she hurried in the direction Ravi had been taken.
She dove deeper into the woods. The lamp flickered, almost out of oil. She cursed under her breath. If she lost the light then she was doomed.
A branch snapped up ahead. Priya froze.
Something was breathing, heavy jagged breaths that surrounded her and made the hair on the nape of her neck stand at attention.
It stood outside the circle of light cast by the lantern, but she could sense its mass—larger than a rakshasa. It waited for her to advance.
Her mouth was dry, and her blood pounded in her ears so loud that it almost drowned out the deep rumble of its growl.
Priya turned and ran.
Her body moved on instinct, dodging loose roots, and jumping over rocks. She wasn’t thinking, simply reacting. She felt the ground vibrate under her feet, and heard the beast’s pounding pursuit.
Branches raked at her face, and ripped at her hair. The lantern went out. She dropped it, running blind.
Her boot snagged on a root, her ankle twisted. She cried out in pain before smashing face-first onto the frozen earth.
She flipped onto her back and bit back a scream as a lance of fiery pain shot through her ankle. She scrabbled to stand, and crumpled in agony, and then its dark mass was descending on her.
She screamed, bringing the axe up, and embedding it in the beast with a dirty thud.
It roared.
She was going to die.
She screamed again as its talons slashed across her chest.
“Priya!”
The beast’s roar morphed into a bloodcurdling shriek. It slumped across her, and warm heat spread across her chest.
She couldn’t breathe, her lungs refused to be filled, and then her chest was expanding with too much breath, her arms and legs tingling with power. She shoved at the beast, sending it flying into the darkness.
“Priya? Priya! Oh Gods.” Ravi reached for her, trying to hold her still, trying to contain her, but she would not be contained. She was brimming with energy. The darkness was filled with light. Her body felt as if it were about to explode. She had to move.
She wrenched free of him, and began to run toward the hut, her feet barely touching the ground, her hair coming loose from its plait and flying behind her like a flag.
She reached the hut, and collapsed on the bed, her head swimming with flickering images.
“Priya?” Ravi cursed. “Priya!” She felt him shaking her, but the energy of a moment ago had evaporated turning her limbs into useless wet rags. She could barely keep her eyes open. She felt him tugging at her clothes, and some deep part of her, trained in propriety and decency by her parents wanted to object, but the other part, the part that craved the touch of his hands was stronger.
She shuddered as air kissed her skin.
“Oh, God, thank God,” Ravi whispered over and over again.
The world looked better with her eyes closed.
4
ARYAN
They had set up camp in and around the beautiful gold-edged building. The strange idols had been smashed to pieces, trampled upon and desecrated. It seemed that the savages worshiped demons, bu
t Aryan knew better. The only savages here were his warriors.
The voice counseled him to keep his peace, to help build campfires, to drink brew, and to banter with his people. He did all this, hiding his pain under a smile.
Reunited with his Hand, Aryan sipped at his brew, listening to their talk with only half an ear. It was more of the same, more of the lies fed to them by the commander. He wasn’t sure what she was anymore.
She is The Voice, of course.
Yes, yes, he knew that. But what was she.
That is a question that must be saved for another day, for the answer is complicated and would require my time and your concentration.
“Chief? You hear? There’s talk of splitting the troops to cover more ground,” Fen said.
It was news to him, but he figured if he were connected like they were it wouldn’t be. Was this a trap? He settled for nodding in a noncommittal manner.
Fen stared at him through narrowed eyes.
Was that her, watching him? Studying him?
He raised his mug. “I’ll take some more of this though.” It seemed to break whatever connection had been made, because Fen’s youthful face broke into a grin.
“Look at you, Chief. Really putting it away,” he said.
Aryan winked. “Well, we have much to celebrate. This land will soon be cleansed, it will soon be ours.”
“I’ll drink to that!” Bojan raised his mug, and the others followed.
They downed their brews and slapped the mugs against the ground.
“Having fun?” Darius said. He stood over them, hands on hips, a smile tugging at his full lips. “I forget, this is your first time away from home.”
Aryan tilted his head to look up at him. “You’re giving me neck strain, come sit with us.”
Darius glanced over his shoulder then back to the group. “Thank you.” He crouched beside Fen. Cadoc passed him a mug filled with brew.
The smell of cooking meat, animal this time, filled the air. Although Aryan wasn’t sure what they were eating. The beasts that had attacked them were unlike anything he had seen before, and the ones they had slaughtered were now filling the warrior’s bellies. The rest had dispersed not too long into the attack. They had hit hard, but the tussle had been brief. He wasn’t sure how many men they had lost during the attack but knew better than to ask too many questions.
“You eaten?” Darius asked.
Aryan nodded.
Darius looked about. “Interesting place, these buildings. The whole set up makes me think that there must have been a civilization here at some point. Probably wiped out by the savages.”
“Or maybe the civilians became savages?” Bojan suggested.
Darius stick out his bottom lip, considering. “Maybe. We’ll never know.”
Aryan pressed his lips together, fixing his gaze on the flames.
“So we’ve had our assignments. How do you feel about it?” He addressed his question to Aryan.
Aryan went cold. Frack! He certainly hadn’t heard anything said, so it must have been communicated silently. He tipped the last dregs of his brew down his throat, buying time.
Darius waited, they all waited, watching him with curiously knowing eyes.
Aryan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “It doesn’t matter what I feel, this is about maximizing the attack. I will happily go where I am put.”
Darius’s face broke into a toothy grin. He slapped Fen’s back, almost toppling him. “That’s what I like to hear!”
The warriors laughed.
“I think he thought you’d find it awkward, taking orders from him,” Bojan said.
Darius had been put in charge of a whole troop? Aryan quickly masked his surprise with a chuckle. “It would be an honor to be in your charge, Chief.” He winked.
The shadows behind Darius shifted. Silence descended over the troops.
“Darius.” It was the commander, her voice low and smooth.
Darius turned to her.
She inclined her head and walked away.
“Duty calls.” Darius drained his mug and slapped it on the ground. “May we meet again.”
He followed the commander into her blanket tent.
Aryan waited till he was out of sight, then stood.
The warriors looked up at him inquiringly.
“I’m going to stretch my legs. Save me some brew.” He didn’t wait for a response, striding away quickly. He needed space to think unguardedly, to not have to consciously adjust his features into acceptable expressions.
Leaving the boisterousness of the camp behind, he ventured further into the building, into the shadows where, surrounded by thick stone walls, he finally allowed his muscles to unknot.
He was trapped in a nightmare. Everything he had known, everything he had believed in and held dear, everything that made him who he was, had been a lie. A terrible lie, and now his hands were stained with innocent blood. He couldn’t do this any longer. He couldn’t simply continue to pretend. There had to be another way, a way out or a way to stop it. Ama’s face flashed through his mind, and he faltered in his new convictions. His city was dying. That he knew to be a fact, so despite his moral issues, didn’t the ends justify the means?
He waited for the inner voice to interject, to feed him a solution, but instead of the dulcet dark tones that he had been accustomed to, he heard tinny wails.
He wandered down a corridor and came to a flight of steps leading down. Hesitating at the top, he waited.
There it was again. He strained but couldn’t make out what it said.
He slowly descended the steps, finding nothing but a smooth stone wall at the bottom.
Why lead stairs to a dead end? It made no sense, unless . . . he ran his hands over the stone and found what his eyes could not see in the darkness; grooves and patterns and deliberately carved recesses.
It was a door. A secret door, which meant there would be some special trick to open it. His heart sank. He had never been good at puzzles.
The wail came again. And this time he recognized it as the cry of a child.
There was a child trapped in there!
Another voice joined the first.
Two children!
He had to help. He had to get them out.
Screwing his face up in concentration he began to test the strange lock.
Middle finger, index and thumb then twist.
How did it know this?
Predictable.
He licked his lips, positioning his fingers accordingly. He twisted, and something scraped.
Push.
He braced his shoulder against the stone and pushed, expecting resistance, but it moved smoothly. He stumbled inside, catching himself before he could fall.
His eyes adjusted to the gloom, lit only by a single, almost burned-out lamp. They swept the space, seeing glittering gems, chalices, and plates, and finally skimming over five tiny frightened faces.
They stared at him with eyes as large as the tea plates Ama used to put out for special meals, and then the smallest of the group opened her mouth and screamed.
5
PRIYA
She awoke with a start, her arms thrashing.
“Shhh, it’s all right, you’re safe.”
Ravi’s soothing tone melted over her limbs, and they dropped to her sides on the pallet.
“Better.” Ravi’s large calloused hands caressed her forehead, and she closed her eyes, exhaling slowly.
The events of the night before flickered through her mind. She flinched, her hands grabbing at her chest. It had cut her, the talons, so sharp, and the pain!
“No, it’s all right. Your coat protected you, although it’s nothing but shreds now.”
She shook her head. She could have sworn she had felt the bite of those talons on her flesh, accompanied by white-hot needles of pain. But there was no pain now.
“You were lucky, Priya. That thing . . . it could have killed you.”
“What was that thing?”
Ravi was silent for so long that if it hadn’t been for the pressure of his hand on her head, she would have suspected he’d left the room. She opened her eyes and shifted her head under his palm to look at him.
His throat worked for a moment, and then he shrugged. “I don’t know. I heard you scream, and I came running. I didn’t really see it very well. Before I could stop and examine it, you’d run off. I had little choice but to chase you. I suppose now we’ll never know what it was.”
He was lying, she could feel it. “What were you doing out there?”
“I heard a strange noise and went to investigate.” He removed his hand from her forehead. “If you’re feeling better, we should leave. We’ve a lot of ground to cover.”
He was hiding something! She propped herself up on her elbows, glaring at him. “What aren’t you telling me, Ravi? I know you’re brave, but you’re not stupid, and if you heard a strange noise outside in the middle of the night, in the middle of these beast-infested woods, the last thing you’d do is leave to go ‘investigate.’”
Ravi’s face flushed, the darkness in his eyes expanding. He leaned in close, so his breath fanned across her cheeks. “Don’t ever presume to know me, Priya. Don’t try and second-guess my actions or motivations. Trust me, you’ll be wrong every time.”
There was no anger in his words, just simple resignation. It confused her, and made her question everything about their relationship thus far.
He pushed to his feet, moving to the hearth to put out the fire. “Get up. You’ll find clothes in the chest under the pallet. I’ll be outside when you’re done.”
She watched him leave, a delicate frown etched between her brows.
Swinging her legs off the pallet, she slipped to the floor, kneeling to retrieve the chest. After untying the straps that held it closed, she pushed up the lid and stared at the furry items within. Rummaging around she found a tunic that might fit her and a pair of britches that were clearly too large but could be rolled up and tucked in to fit her slender frame. She grabbed the smallest coat, quickly undressed, and put them on.
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