A clearing appeared ahead of us.
“Come, child,” came a whisper. Lakshmana whirled around, and I grabbed his shoulder to steady him. “Come forward,” the voice said. “There is no need to be afraid.”
I was, naturally, very afraid. But the god—for that is who it must have been, for who else could spin into being entire forests that did not exist in the Binding Plane?—already had the measure of us. So I lifted my chin and strode into the clearing.
A man stood before us, petting the head of a magnificent pure-white wolf. He stopped the motion, and the wolf gave another low whine. The man shook his head, and the wolf trotted away into the forest. I looked more closely at the man and realized he was hardly a man at all. What had looked at first like gray robes actually appeared to be his skin, pale and marbled. His dark hair looked more like pine needles the longer I stared. Something cool and wet stung my face, and I glanced up to see fat snowflakes drifting down toward the clearing.
I knew who this was.
“Very good.” The god smiled, revealing wolfish teeth. “It is not often mortals can find me.”
“Shishir,” I said.
“Lord Shishir,” he corrected, and I bit back on a triumphant smile. My childhood obsession with the gods was good for something after all. “God of the winter and the changing seasons,” he continued, taking a few steps toward us.
Next to me, Lakshmana dropped to his knees, the sword falling from his fingers. “Get up,” I hissed.
The god gave a laugh. “That is no way to treat a god, is it? Kneel, for you are a mortal woman.”
I knew I should. But that feeling of wrongness remained thrumming through me. It kept me on my feet. “Why should I kneel?” I asked instead.
Lakshmana twisted to look at me, horror on his face.
Lord Shishir studied me. “I know who you are,” he said after a moment. “Kaikeyi. You pervert the will of the gods at every turn. Your insubordination does not surprise me, but you must know there are consequences.”
The snow fell more quickly now, and I clenched my jaw to stop my teeth from chattering. Somehow my branch was still lit, but I knew it could not last for long. “Why are you here?” I gritted out. “What is this place?”
He smiled again, that wolf’s smile. “I was on my way to see you.”
The ice that gripped my spine had nothing to do with the cold. “To see me?” I repeated.
“In Ayodhya.”
“Ayodhya?” Lakshmana mumbled through blue lips. “Why are you going to Ayodhya?”
Lord Shishir strolled toward us, and I held out the lit branch in warning. He made a motion toward it, and a gust of wind rattled across the clearing, but the flame did not go out. “We have been summoned,” he said. “For too long you have tried to bend nature. You cannot continue.”
Then, in a motion too swift for me to meet, he leapt toward Lakshmana and pressed a hand to his forehead.
I lunged forward, driving the burning branch into the god. He fell back, just as Lakshmana rose and turned toward me.
“That’s right, boy,” Shishir said, and without warning Lakshmana shoved me hard. His eyes were an unnatural blue. I fell back, hands scraping against the frigid ground as my makeshift torch rolled away from me. Still the fire did not go out.
“End it,” Shishir commanded.
Lakshmana hesitated for a moment, the blue of his eyes flickering. I stumbled to my feet, thanking my luck that he had dropped his sword earlier. It took me a moment to enter the Binding Plane, but then the dark clearing was replaced by stark blankness. Lakshmana lurched toward me, the thin blue cord that connected him to Rama—to divine power, I realized—pulling him forward.
I reached into the depths of my strength, of the power inside me I still did not fully understand, and envisioned breaking the bond.
Lakshmana staggered. With a cry, I shoved again, imagining not just a simple unraveling but total obliteration.
The bond shattered and Lakshmana fell. Sharp shards of sickly blue swirled in the cold air before dissipating like so much mist.
“No!” cried Shishir’s voice, and I returned to the god’s forest.
“Ma?” Lakshmana asked, his voice shaking. He tried to stand but could not rise.
“Stay back,” I told him, and he obeyed, a measure of just how shaken he was. Shishir advanced toward me, and I scrambled to pick up my branch. The flame had burned through half of it, but it was all I had. “What do you want?” I snarled.
“It is not a matter of what I want,” he told me, even as a shard of ice crystallized in his hand. “Even if you prevail against me, a reckoning will come for your precious city.”