“I’m sorry, Master Kalinda,” Basma says.
I grab both girls and hunch down to their level. “Don’t be afraid of who you are. You’ll learn to control your powers eventually. The gods gave you these abilities. They believe in you. Trust that.”
The center doors to the arena clang open, and a large group of men prowl in. The men, wearing all black and headscarves across the lower half of their faces, disperse around us. Their swords are sheathed. Tinley and Indah guard their students, and I reach for one of my twin daggers. My mother’s blades are like a guardian spirit I carry with me always.
An intruder steps forward, presenting himself. His headscarf covers all but his gaze. Though he no longer wears a uniform or carries the military-issued khanda sword, I recognize him as the first officer to defect from the army. The former commander has not been silent in his desertion. He has been speaking out all across the city against the prince’s acceptance of bhutas.
“Go over there,” I say to my trainees. The girls dash to the children gathered behind Tinley and Indah.
“Commander Lokesh,” Ashwin calls from the imperial box. “You weren’t invited.”
The commander grips the gauntlets of his sheathed twin pata swords. The handguards cover his fists. “We saw the fire and came to see that everything was under control.”
“As you can see, all is well,” Ashwin calls from on high.
“I think not,” Commander Lokesh replies. His men still spread out, lurking closer. “Who will protect the people from these children? Your Majesty’s guards are becoming scarce.” He declares this with smug gratification. “My men and I are offering our services to those in need of more security in these uncertain times.”
Captain Yatin and more guards march into the arena, near the imperial box. Ashwin is safe with Brac, but the mercenaries’ proximity to the children sets me on edge. I sheathe my dagger and push soul-fire into my fingers.
“You need to leave,” I say. Tinley summons a wind to further coerce them. While her breeze tugs at the commander’s scarf, his cool gaze remains on Ashwin. I send off sparks, and Lokesh passes his attention to me.
“Burner Rani,” he says in farewell.
He signals to his men and they file out. After the last goes, Tinley reels a gust and slams the door shut. Yatin and his men exit to track their departure. Indah and a student sends geysers at the burning pennant and put out the fire. I let my powers ebb.
“Something isn’t right about the commander,” Tinley says, reining in her winds. She drifts into herself, lost in thought. “His voice sounded . . . odd.”
“I didn’t pay attention,” I say. “I was too busy watching his gauntlet swords.”
Tinley harrumphs, unimpressed by his blades, and stalks to her trainees. The far doors swing open, and the prince enters the arena, his ambassador close behind him.
“That was a warning,” Brac says. “Every day Lokesh takes in more soldiers. His mercenaries may soon outnumber the palace guards. You must divide them, Your Majesty.”
“On what grounds?” Ashwin inquires. “The commander has done nothing unlawful. Lokesh has the right to vocalize his views. I cannot silence everyone who disagrees with me.”
“Lokesh wants us to fear him,” I say, gesturing at the huddled children.
Ashwin lowers his head. “Welcoming bhutas into the empire is a substantial change. The people will learn to trust each other. The more they interact, the less they will fear. For the time being, we’ll suspend training.”