“Fine,” I say. Off in the distance, camp has gone quiet. We will draw too much attention strolling in after curfew. “We’ll sneak in when they break camp at dawn. Get some rest.”
Through the dark, I hear Natesa’s victorious accord and Yatin’s lamenting exhalation. Rohan says nothing. I accept his silence as a bid of amenability.
The four of us bed down on the forest floor, sticking to the dry patches preserved by the thick branches overhead. Rohan curls up close to Natesa for warmth. She plucks a leaf from his hair and strokes the locks from his eyes. Kali told me Natesa has a dream of opening an inn someday. I can picture her with a place of her own, caring for weary travelers.
Watching her with Rohan drags up a memory. Once when I was ten and Brac was seven, he ran away from the palace nursery. Many hours later, I found him huddled beneath a lemon tree in the stoning courtyard. Bodies of dead bhutas were buried under bloody piles of stones, decaying in the desert sun. He had run off after I had railed at him for ruining my wooden sword. I can still recall the imprints of his small fingers seared in the hilt of my favorite toy.
That was when I knew Brac was special—and I had to protect him. I threw my wooden sword in the hearth, turning the evidence of what he could do to ash, and never spoke of his abilities. But after that, we both changed. Brac became calculating and distrustful, and I acted as though nothing was amiss. Pretending was the only way I knew how to save him from ending up in that courtyard.
I wish I could return to the days when I was his bigger, stronger brother, but we are not masking his birthright from a grudge-holding rajah. We are up against an enemy that not even his Burner powers can impair.
As the rain drums faintly, my concerns turn toward daybreak, when we will infiltrate the demon rajah’s army.
13
KALINDA
Someone kicks my chair, bringing me upright. Indah stands before me, cradling a steaming teacup. “You sleep in the strangest places,” she says.
“What time is it?”
“Midmorning.” She shuffles in front of my chair and leans against the open casement. Sunlight falls in behind her. The snow clouds have passed, and the air is warmer. Icicles drip from the window. The tower beacon pushes warmth at my back, adding heat to the warming temperatures. I relit the flame last night after Tarek left. My memory of his visit is fuzzy in the light of day, pulling apart my confidence in what I saw.
Is it possible for souls to travel from the Void by shadows? Is there truth to Inanna’s Descent?
“Ashwin sent me to find you,” Indah says. “What are you doing up here? Have you been here all night?”
“I came to watch for Hastin.” I slip my hands under the wool blanket. My inner chill is relentless.
“You don’t have to do that. Pons is listening for his arrival.”
“I know. I just . . .” Seeing Tarek reminded me of how Hastin manipulated me into trusting him. The longer I wait, the more Deven’s warning weighs on me. But my apprehension may be for naught. Whether Hastin comes or not, we must leave Samiya tomorrow morning to meet with the Lestarian Navy.
“Healer Baka sent this for you. She told me I could find you here.” Indah passes me the teacup. I sip the hot drink, savoring its sweetness. She opens her cloak to the autumn air. Her cheeks have more color than yesterday.
“What were you doing in the infirmary?”
“I needed a remedy for my stomach. Healer Baka was very helpful. While she brewed anise tea for me, we discussed the temple’s supply shortage. I wrote Datu Bulan and told him the sisters and daughters will perish if he does not send rations. The carrier dove left an hour ago. I anticipate he’ll agree, but should he decline, we could petition the Paljorians.”