“What?” I said innocently.
“Where is my phone?”
I held it up and waved it at him.
“Thief, remember? And for your information, the promise I was referring to wasn’t about the sapphires, you prick. It was about remembering to have some fun.”
His brow furrowed.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Give me my phone. I’m expecting a call from the governments of India and Bhutan.”
I yawned.
“Boring.”
He swore under his breath and started towards me. I threw his phone over the balcony. He watched it go in disbelief.
“What in the name of the gods are you doing?”
“Trying to get you to stop for a minute and listen to me. I’m not with Raj, you idiot. I’ll never be with Raj. Yes, he’s lovely and sweet and to be honest, far nicer than you’re being right now. But the thing is, I don’t love him.” I took a breath. “I’m in love with someone else.”
I couldn’t read his expression.
“Do I know this person?” he asked finally. I tilted my head to one side.
“I don’t think he knows himself. He would say he’s bound by rules, that he has to take charge because that’s his job and he would never shirk his duty. But the man I love is brave and honourable, who risks his life without a second thought for the people he cares about. The man I love believes in magic carpets.”
“But magic carpets aren’t real.”
His voice was hoarse.
“Says who?”
I looked down at the Persian rug I was standing on and concentrated.
I wouldn’t have been able to do this a week ago. But the fall off the mountainside had increased my skills.
I slid a cushion of air beneath the carpet, focusing on its volume, its density. I shaped it until it was sturdy enough to support my weight. Twitching my fingers, I made the air expand. And the carpet rose half a foot off the floor.
I held out my hand.
“Be the man I love,” I said softly.
Hesitantly Dhav stepped onto the rug, and we sank down together cross-legged.
“What shall I hold onto?” he asked.
“Me, Dhav. You can hold onto me.”
He slid an arm round my waist, and his closeness made me shiver. I floated the carpet through the open balcony doors and into the garden. I made it rise high above the palace so that the grounds were laid out below us like an emerald quilt.
I turned us towards the city and we soared over Ashfahaan, looking down as people pointed in wonder. We startled a flock of birds, and swooped low over a lake, close enough to touch the water.
He held his arms out and laughed, his uncomplicated pleasure almost making my heart burst with joy.
I returned us to the palace grounds and let us float above the orange blossoms. The scent filled my head as I twisted in his arms, leaning back to look at him.
“Why did you come looking for me earlier?”
“I wanted to ask you something.”
“Ask me now.”
“It is not important.”
“Ask me, your Highness, or I’ll tip the carpet up and drop you straight onto your royal butt.”
He muttered a curse.
“You are the most willful, stubborn, disobedient…”
I tilted the carpet ever so slightly and his arms tightened around me. He pulled me into his lap.
“You go, I go,” he growled.
“I can fly, remember?”
“So you can.” He shook his head ruefully. “Very well. I was coming to ask you to stay with me. Forever, as it happens. Until I saw my scoundrel of a brother had beaten me to it.”
My heart quickened.
“Forever?”
“Am I not being clear? Then let me spell it out for you, little thief.” He kissed my palm, curling his fingers through mine. “I love you. With every cell of my body. The thought of losing you is unbearable. I would rather face a hundred ghuls or jump off a thousand cliffs than spend a single day without you.”
“So… you’re saying you want me to move in with you?” I poked him in the chest playfully, my pulse skittering.
“For now. And perhaps one day, in a few years when we are both older and wiser, you would do me the very great honour of allowing me to be your… husband?”
He left the question hanging delicately, and I felt a rush of warmth through my body.
“Not so fast, Speedy Gonzales. You can’t ask a question like that without even a ring. Raj at least offered me a sapphire.”
“Ah yes. Well, there at least I can do better than my brother. I don’t have a sapphire but I do have this.”
He reached into his pocket. The sun’s rays caught the ruby and it glowed richly.
“My ring!”
“I had it cleaned. May I…?”
I held out my index finger and he slid it on. I gazed at it happily.
“So you want me to stay?”
“I very much want you to stay.”
“Even though I’m not really palace material?”
“The palace could use some modernisation.”
“What about duty and obligation and blah blah blah?”
“I’m sure I can make time in my busy schedule for you.”
“Such generosity. I don’t know what to say.”
His eyes gleamed dangerously.
“The proper response, when something is asked of you by your prince, is ‘yes, your Highness.’”
I put my arms around his neck.
“Yes, your Highness.”
“Do you mean…?”
“Yes, your Highness.”
He made an inarticulate sound and pulled me to him, his lips searching for mine. I wound my arms around his neck, relishing the feel of his mouth, his passion.
He pushed his hands through my hair, tilting my head so he could graze his lips along my throat. Heat pooled in the pit of my stomach and the carpet fluttered alarmingly.
“You need to stop,” I said huskily. “We’ll fall.”
“I’m already falling.” He nipped delicately at my earlobe.
“Dhav, you’re distracting me.”
“Then you’d better land this thing, because I intend to distract you quite thoroughly and for some time.”
With an effort I brought the carpet down among the orange trees, their fragrance enveloping us as we settled gently. He took me in his arms.
“Aren’t there people you were supposed to be talking to?” I asked weakly. “India or Bhutan or somewhere?” He nuzzled my neck.
“They will have to wait,” he murmured. “I have more important things to do. What about you? Do you need anything from England?”
His lips were wreaking havoc with my pulse.
“No. I don’t need anything but you. I love you.”
Saying the words made me feel light and giddy, as if joy was an actual tangible thing filling me up.
“And I you, little thief.” He looked down at me, his thumb gently stroking my cheekbone. “It seems you have stolen everything from me. My mind. My heart. My soul.”
“I haven’t stolen them,” I whispered. “I’ve just put them here, next to mine.”
Orange blossom drifted around us, landing in our hair and on our skin, but we were oblivious.
We were lost in each other, a thief and her prince.
Caught up in a fairy tale, entwined on a magic carpet, making our very own happy-ever-after.
◆◆◆
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Now read on for an extract of Book 1 in the Daughter of Kali series.
Daughter of Kali: Awakening Chapter 1
I was fifteen when I saw my first monster. But then, I've always been a little bit broken. When I was younger, I often saw things that weren't there. Until I made myself stop.
Unfortun
ately the vision in front of me right now was all too real. Mum's ridiculous pink tie-die trousers clashed horribly with the orange kitchen blinds, and the tattoo on her upper arm flexed as she clenched her fists.
"How dare you speak to me like that. Apologise right now!"
Another day, another row. I didn't look at her, kept my eyes on her weird-shaped tattoo. In one of her less guarded moments she'd told me she'd had it done at about my age, when she was still in India. It was a Hindu symbol, something to do with spirituality. She probably thought it made her look cool.
Of course, she'd absolutely forbidden me to have a tattoo.
"Kalpurna!" she snapped. "Will you listen to me?"
I gritted my teeth. She knew full well I never responded to that name. Her slight accent was embarrassingly more pronounced because of her irritation. 'Will' became 'vill'. It made her sound like a character from one of those Bengali films she liked so much. I shouldered past her and out the door. The Ganesh statue she kept on the shelf toppled as my school bag caught it. I didn't wait to see if it smashed.
The early morning rain had left the dirty pavements looking greasy, and the gutters full of blackish water. It was late spring, but didn't feel like it. The sky glowered, and my face matched it. I spotted Em ahead of me.
"Hey!" I yelled. "Hey, Em!" She looked up from her phone, her blue eyes smiling at me from behind her glasses. As usual, her blonde hair was scraped into a tight plait, and she was wearing her favourite baggy sweat shirt. I felt myself relax. Being with Em always made me feel better.
"Hi, Kaz," she greeted me. "How was your weekend?"
"The usual." I didn't need to elaborate, and Em looked at me sympathetically. She knew Mum and I didn't get on.
"If it's any consolation, I'm developing a new app where you hunt down enemies and blow them up. You can test it out when it's finished." I grinned and shook my head.
"You are so going to be a millionaire before you're twenty."
"Better than working for a living. Come on. I want to go to the shop before school starts."
We walked towards the newsagent, joining others heading in the same direction. I surreptitiously sniffed the sleeve of my denim jacket, to see if it smelled of the joss sticks Mum insisted on burning. She said it reminded her of home. I don't know what she was talking about, she'd lived in Britain for years.
"Did you get that essay finished?" Em asked. I shook my head.
"Couldn't be bothered. I'll say I was ill."
"Kaz!" Em looked at me reproachfully. I shrugged. She was the brainy one, not me.
The newsagent was packed, even though the sign on the door explicitly said ''Only Two Children At A Time!!!" They'd overdone the exclamation marks.
I saw Rebecca Anderson buying a pack of cigarettes, assuring the disinterested shopkeeper she was eighteen. She caught me looking and whispered something to her mates, their blonde heads bobbing as they smirked at me. Someone shoved past me, pushing me into the magazine rack. Darren 'Gobbo' Gibbons shot me a glance over his shoulder.
"Move, paki." I straightened up, and opened my mouth to tell him where to go. Em touched my shoulder.
"Leave it. He's not worth it." I clamped my mouth shut and rubbed my head, which was starting to throb. Only Monday, and it was already shaping up to be one of those weeks. I waited while Em bought a coke and some sweets.
"You getting anything?" she asked. I shook my head.
"I'm broke." I was always broke.
"Here." She pushed a chocolate bar into my hand. I started to protest, but she shook it off. "You're a pain when your blood sugar's low," she told me. "I'm just protecting myself."
"Aw, thanks," I said sarcastically. But I took the chocolate.
We walked into Mallow Bottom comp, a nineteen sixties monstrosity painted a uniform beige in every corridor. It was as if the architect had deliberately decided to make it as drab and boring as possible. My headache got worse.
"Hey, that must be your new maths teacher," Em said, pointing in front of us. "Her picture's in the school newsletter." Only Em would get excited at the prospect of a new teacher. Or read the newsletter, for that matter. I looked at the woman sashaying down the corridor in front of us.
She was wearing a patterned floral dress and had thick red hair coiled loosely at the nape of her neck. She was slim, with good legs that made her look as if she was gliding. She paused at the door of the maths room, and turned towards us.
"She's pretty, isn't she?" Em asked. I didn't answer. My eyes were fixed at a point just above the teacher's head, and my heart started to beat a little bit faster.
I hadn't seen the shadows for a long time. Not since I got better. I shut my eyes and took a breath. They’re not real. They aren’t there. I opened my eyes. They weren't there.
"You okay?" Em's voice was full of concern, and I took a second to gather myself.
"I've just got a bit of a headache," I said truthfully. "I'll see you at break."
"See ya."
Em and I didn't have many lessons together because she was top-streamed for everything. In fact she was taking her maths final early, so she was in a class full of older kids. Needless to say, I was in the bottom group for everything. We were like yin and yang.
The new teacher smiled at me as I walked past her into the maths room, the last one in. Everyone quietened as she introduced herself.
"Good morning, class. I'm Miss Smith, and I'm pleased to be teaching you maths this term."
"She can teach me anything," I heard Gobbo mutter to his mates, none too quietly.
There was a stifled guffaw, and Miss Smith's smile turned brittle. She pinned her gaze on Gobbo, who continued to grin defiantly, but only for a moment. She held his stare, and he dropped his head, flushing. Miss Smith was young, but she was no pushover.
"Let's pick up with algebra, shall we?" she enquired briskly.
She turned to the board and started to write out a series of numbers and letters. I decided my time would be better spent examining the pimple that had erupted on my chin. I got my little compact mirror out of my pencil case and had a quick look. Depressingly, it had decided to turn bright red. Short of an arrow pointing at it, it couldn't be more obvious. I prodded at my chin dismally. A shadow fell over me.
"Kalpurna, isn't it? I do hope you're paying attention."
I looked up into Miss Smith's smiling, pretty face. But there was a hint of steel in those eyes, and I could see she was annoyed.
"No, Miss," I mumbled, covering my little mirror with my hands. “It’s Kaz, Miss.”
"Well, Kaz, perhaps you would be kind enough to inform the rest of the class why you were looking in a mirror?" she asked brightly.
"Um, I was just... I had something in my eye," I said. She gazed steadily at me.
"So you weren't checking up on your complexion then?" She stared pointedly at my chin. There was a stifled giggle from behind me, and I flushed.
"Sorry, Miss."
"Perhaps I'd better take that mirror till the end of class. Wouldn't want you to miss anything important, would we?" She held out her hand and with a sigh I dropped the compact into it.
"No, Miss."
I heard Rebecca Anderson snigger, and my cheeks burned. At least my red face was camouflaging my spot, I thought miserably. I spent the rest of the lesson pretending to listen intently.
When the bell went a hundred years later, I walked up to Miss Smith's desk at the front where she was marking papers.
"Could I have my mirror back, Miss Smith?"
She raised her head and gazed at me intently.
"You need to pay more attention in class, Kaz. You need to pay more attention to me. Do I make myself clear?"
My head started to pound again. I knew she was looking at me, but I couldn't see her clearly. It was as if a dark cloud was writhing in front of her face. I swallowed and closed my eyes briefly. When I opened them, the shadow was gone. Not real. It's not real. She was still waiting for an answer.
"Yes, Miss Smith.
"
"Very well."
She held out the mirror and I reached for it, my fingers brushing the back of her hand as I took it.
That's when I saw the monster.
In the instant I touched her, Miss Smith's face changed. For a split second, her eyes turned completely white. Not clear white, but glassy, opaque dead-fish white. No iris, no pupil. And her skin turned sickly grey, dry and cracked, with black ichor dribbling out of the wounds. Through a gaping split in her cheek I could see rotting teeth. I smelled something like decaying meat, a rank stench that made my stomach roil.
The hairs rose up on the back of my neck. There was no other way to describe it - I could physically feel the follicles standing straight up in shock. The monster stared back at me with cloying malevolence. Its mouth opened and a mottled tongue flopped obscenely over its chin. In that moment I was absolutely sure it was going to rip my throat out. For one, long, endless second, I couldn’t breathe.
Then Miss Smith drew her hand back, and the monster was gone. She gave no indication that anything out of the ordinary had happened. She was still holding my compact.
"On second thought, I think I'll hang onto this until the end of the term. We wouldn't want you becoming vain, would we, Kaz?" She suddenly frowned and leaned forward.
"Are you alright?"
I forced myself to breathe, to act normally. Thoughts ricocheted through my head. Don't freak out. It's not real. It's just like when you were little. Miss Smith was still looking at me, and I wanted to get as far away from her as possible.
"I'm fine Miss. All fine. All good."
She held my gaze, as if she was trying to see inside my head. I swallowed, fighting the urge to scream.
"Okay, you may go now, Kaz," she said, returning to her marking.
I bolted for the door and fled down the corridor, grabbing Em as she came out of her classroom.
"Hey, guess what?" she started, then stopped abruptly. "What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost!"
"I... I'm okay." The corridor was full of kids rushing to take advantage of the fifteen minute break before next period. I kept my voice low. "I think I've just had one of my panic attacks."
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