“Please,” said Gautam. “No. Please.”
She tapped the glass a little. Watched the vial waver on its hook.
“You called me a rat,” she said. “And a few other things that you probably consider unkind.”
He said nothing.
“I want you to remember that that’s all I’ll be—as long as you give me no reason to be more. And I want you to do this floor-sweeping whore a kindness and share a little of your knowledge with her.” She turned to look at him squarely. “In return I’ll leave these alone. My brother does not need to know anything.”
Gautam’s exhaled breath was shaky with relief. “What,” he said, “do you want to know?”
“Tell me about needle-flower,” she said. “Tell me exactly what long-term ingestion does to the body. And tell me what the consequences are when the doses are stopped.”
MALINI
The dizzy spells grew worse after Priya left. Tremors shook her body, and there were times when she saw and heard nothing for long moments, then found herself in a new position. Leaning against the wall, or collapsed on the floor, her body not her own.
No one would come if she called. She and Priya had made sure of that, after all.
Priya was gone an hour. Two. Three. Malini forced herself to remain on her charpoy, curled up on her side like a small child, her hands bunched in the concave of her stomach, as if the heat of her own skin could ground her in place.
Perhaps Priya has died, Malini thought. Ridiculous. But time moved differently when you were captive and your body refused to obey you.
She heard the whisper of footsteps behind her. Raised her head and—
There was no one there.
She couldn’t stay on the charpoy with strange noises brushing her ears. She felt vulnerable and scared, her heart howling in her chest. She climbed down—dizzy for a moment—and crossed the floor. Lowered herself down against the wall.
There was a memory of fire humming inside her. She closed her eyes and listened to the splintering pop of wood and flesh under flame. The hiss of it. The screams.
She was not well. Not well. Not.
She saw two shadows cross the floor. She watched them.
Not real. This is not real.
Not real.
“My la—” Priya stopped. “Malini. I’m back. Why are you sitting in the corner of the room?”
“It felt necessary,” Malini said in a rasp. She didn’t move as Priya approached her. She heard no footsteps this time, which was at least normal. Priya always walked with strange, silent grace. Her face was achingly alive—dark and real above Malini’s own. “Did you find him?”
“I did,” said Priya, kneeling down.
“Can he free me?”
Priya was silent for a moment.
“That’s a no, then.”
“He had messages for you.”
“Tell me,” said Malini.
Priya told her. There was comfort in knowing her work had not gone to waste. Aditya had all the tools she’d been able to provide for him—everything he required to crush Chandra to dust. But not enough to see her free from this: her prison, her poisoning, the black marks of fire upon the walls around her.
“Has Lord Rajan tried negotiating directly with General Vikram?” Malini asked. “Vikram has a great deal to lose from Chandra’s rule—and more to gain from Aditya’s. There could be a benefit.”
“I don’t know,” said Priya. “I didn’t know it was something I should suggest.”
“No. You wouldn’t have.”
Priya frowned.
“Don’t bristle, Priya,” Malini murmured. “Such things are my business, not yours. I was raised to consider politics, always.”
But she knew Rao. He knew the value of affability, of the subtler plays for power. It was why they had always gotten along so well, and why he and Aditya had been such fast friends. He would have approached Vikram in some form. That approach had clearly not borne fruit.
“You must go back soon,” said Malini. “You must tell him…”
Ah. She could not remember what Priya needed to tell him. The words had slipped from her mind. Her hands shook a little.
This would pass.
“You need to take this,” said Priya. She held a cup in her hands. When had she obtained it? Had she walked in with it? Malini did not know.
“What is it?”
“A very, very small dose of needle-flower,” said Priya. Her expression was serious. “I spoke to a healer after all. Your body has grown used to the poison. Apparently reducing the intake too swiftly is just as likely to kill you as continuing to consume it. We need to give you a few more doses. Only a few. I’ll measure them carefully and cut them by halves each time. Even that probably isn’t safe, but it’s… it’s the fastest way we can see you free of it.”