“My master wished to draw you here,” Bhandasura hissed. “And I have done his bidding.”
“You have a master? You are less powerful than I thought.” I was scrambling, but perhaps I could goad him into a mistake.
“My master is all-powerful!” Bhandasura declared, and angry gouts of flame encircled us in unbearable heat. Ravana stepped closer to me to avoid the flames, and a weight pressed into my hand. I had little faith that this could work, but we had no other choice. “He will create a new empire of this world. He freed me from the prison that meddling goddess placed me into.”
“Tell me who your master is, and perhaps I will spare you,” I said. The smoke burrowed into my lungs and my words came out weak, punctuated by coughs.
Bhandasura laughed, and his eyes closed. I saw my opening. “Even if I had seen his face, I would never—”
Ravana’s long, thin, remarkably spear-like sword embedded itself in his chest. I had thrown it with my nondominant hand, but from this distance I could hardly miss.
Bhandasura looked down, his mouth open in surprise. “This will not—” And then he staggered. He fell to his knees.
“You. Whore,” he ground out, one hand pressed to his chest. “You will never leave here alive.”
The flames sputtered. Beyond them stood a grotesque assembly of creatures howling and baying. Some of them were familiar animals—wolves, skeletal and starved, their fur matted and torn—while others were imps, horns sprouting from their head and large red eyes bulging.
Ravana stepped forward, throwing a small object over the flames at the center of the pack. It exploded with such force when it hit the ground that I could feel the reverberation across the fire. Many of the animals were torn apart by whatever strange invention Ravana had brought with him, but the rest stayed in place.
If Bhandasura’s hold on them did not break with his death, there was no way we could withstand this.
The asura gasped for breath on the ground, and I drew my sword with my left hand. “Can you keep them away?” I said to Ravana. “I have an idea.”
He moved to stand in front of me, dropping into a defensive stance. “I will do so for as long as I can.”
I entered the Binding Plane. I had never tried to use my magic to control a nonhuman entity, and I did not want to try now, with my life on the line. I tried not to imagine what it might feel like to be killed by these animals. It would be slow, for they were small—an endless onslaught of teeth and claws until we succumbed.
The world wavered before me as Bhandasura’s breath grew shallow. The shadows of the forest danced, closing in on me despite the bright sunlight. I ignored them. Pain throbbed in my burns, and I harnessed it, sharpening my focus farther than it had ever gone. All other bonds seemed to fade, and at last, I found them. Faint black wisps rising off Bhandasura, pulling the horde of wildlife like puppets. Once I found them, they shone, lustrous against the deadening veil that covered the world in the Binding Plane.
Distantly, I heard Bhandasura breathe his last. The flames died. I watched, hoping that the threads would die with them. But they did not even flicker.
And then, the animals were upon us.
Ravana fought with the strength of ten men, hacking and carving until the soil was matted and slick with blood. The air was smoky and coppery and utterly soaked with the scent of death. My eyes watered and stung, but I pressed on. Ravana protected me as I grasped at the black filaments that still tied the animals and cut one and then another with desperate intensity. The animals fled the moment they were freed from their magical tethers. But it was slow. I was too slow. I swayed on my feet as the magic sapped my strength.
“What are you doing?” Ravana shouted.
“Trying to save us,” I replied through clenched teeth. I pulled at my power, shaping it into a blade. My shoulders heaved, vision tunneling as I pictured a sword of such strength and sharpness that it could cut through this tangle before me in one strike. And with a cry, I swung it into the heart of the knot.
A wave of threads in the Binding Plane snapped. I staggered forward as the tide of animals receded.
“It’s working,” Ravana called. “Do that again.” He was bleeding profusely from a wound in his arm. A set of teeth tore into my legs and I swung my true sword on instinct, clumsily batting away what appeared to be a rabbit with horns. My legs barely had strength left to stand, and my resolve faltered, but I thought of Lakshmana, waiting alone in Janasthana. I would not leave him.
I entered the Binding Plane once more. A bird clawed at my forehead. Sweat and blood stung my eyes and obscured my vision. I could barely see what I was doing. Next to me, Ravana cried out. I felt him stumble back.