Hirav swallowed, looking down at his hands. “It is hard to describe, Radnyi, but I do not think we have that much time. The whole city is living in fear. And I don’t think we can stop this rakshasa alone. If it wants to burn a path to Ayodhya—”
“What does Ayodhya have to do with this?” I asked sharply.
“The rakshasa speaks of conquering the city.”
It was my worst fear come true. A common goal. We had laughed, Dasharath and I, at the idea that anyone might reach Ayodhya from here. But a powerful rakshasa with an army could wreak such destruction as to destroy entire kingdoms.
Though Dasharath had asked me not to go, I could not just abandon Janasthana to its fate.
I thanked Hirav for his time, then watched over Lakshmana as he slept fitfully. I tried to compose a letter for Dasharath that would not alarm him when he could do nothing, but would impress the seriousness of the situation. I could not bring myself to mention Lakshmana’s illness.
Dasharath—matters in Sripura are worse than feared. I have reason to believe there is a threat to Ayodhya in the forests of Janasthana. Lakshmana and I will take all precautions in looking into the matter, and Hirav will be waiting in a nearby village for us. It would not go amiss to fortify the roads into Ayodhya.
It took three days for Lakshmana to wake, and when he did, he fell out of his bed. The crash startled me from a doze, and I reached for my sword before realizing what had happened.
“Lakshmana!” I moved quickly to his side. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired.” Lakshmana pushed himself up onto his elbows. “Thirsty. Hungry.”
“Good, good.” I helped him back into his bed and then went to the sill to fetch him a cup of boiled water.
“What happened, Ma?” he asked. “I had the strangest dream, about the cold and then a fire.”
“It’s been a few days since you collapsed. And that wasn’t a dream.”
He fell back on his pillow. “I had a fever.” It was not a question.
“Yes. You did.” I brushed my hand against his forehead. It was blessedly cool. “It has broken now. But you need to regain your strength.”
“Wait, did you say days?” Lakshmana surged forward, and I pushed him back down, until he was fully lying prone. “We need to keep moving. You heard what Lord Shishir said.”
“How are you feeling?” I asked again, more firmly.
He closed his eyes. “It is gone now. The presence. The one that Lord Shishir used to control me. I think… I think it was there before we ever met him.” Lakshmana hesitated. “Do you think Rama had anything to do with this?” I thought back to how Rama had unconsciously pushed toward my mind. Was it possible that the rest of Ayodhya had these bonds too? I knew for certain only that Sita and I were free from them. And now Lakshmana. But no—Rama would not do something like this.
“I think he loves you dearly, but that he does not know how to control his power or influence,” I responded. If doubt lingered in my mind, if part of me was desperate to return to Ayodhya, now was not the time. There was a real threat before us.
“Ma.” Lakshmana took a deep breath. “I love Rama. He is my closest brother. But I have held my tongue all my life in his presence because my tongue has been held for me, and until you pointed it out I did not even realize it. Even then my thoughts were all trapped in my head and I was stuck.”
“Slowly, go slowly,” I said. “Do you mean to tell me that Rama’s influence has kept you quiet in his presence? Literally quiet?”
“Yes.” He took another deep, shuddering breath. “I feel like a different person now. There is no other way to describe it.”
“If you could have spoken freely in our first conversation, what would you have said?” I asked, struggling still to understand this new truth.
“I know that I am more intelligent than Rama, although he is far more skilled in the war arts. And I know that Rama’s influence is the only reason our tutors think he is perfect. He cares too much about what others will think of him, or what others are saying about him. I think that is why he argues sometimes with Sita. And it is why he holds you at a distance—because he knows you think him foolish for it.”
I sat down on the edge of Lakshmana’s bed. “He holds me at a distance?” I asked at last.
Lakshmana squinted at me. “I thought you knew.”
“I don’t understand. Why would he do that? How do you know this?” The desperation poured out of me without warning, and I had to stop myself from alarming Lakshmana further.