The face Priya wore now was a familiar one. She’d worn it when she killed the rebel maidservant on the triveni; when Malini had first looked at her and thought, I could use this one. It was the face of a temple daughter, formidable and strange. Priya was not just a maid or a weapon. She was something more, and Malini had no words for her.
“Malini,” Priya said, with sudden alarm. “Can you understand me?”
“I can.”
“You need a dose of the needle-flower.” Priya touched a hand back to her throat—not to the wound, but to the stoppered bottle, still safe upon its thread.
Malini shook her head, after a moment. “I don’t need it,” she said. It was not sickness that had distracted her. Her fingertips tingled as if there were fire inside them. “Continue.”
“Malini—”
“Tell me your deal,” Malini said sharply. “You said there wasn’t much time.”
Priya’s hand paused.
“Fine,” she said. “I want Ahiranya’s freedom. Entirely. No kindness or benevolence from your Emperor Aditya—no graciousness bestowed from on high. Ahiranya doesn’t need to be another nation bound to the empire. I want our independence. I’ll set you free, Malini. I will make sure you reach your nameless prince and his men. And in return, you will vow to me that you will give Ahiranya to me.”
“To you,” Malini said slowly. “And what would you do with it? Become its queen?”
Priya’s mouth quirked into a smile.
“Not me,” she said. “But belonging to Parijatdvipa has done this country no favors. No matter how kindly you say your brother Aditya will treat us, we’ll always be dogs at the table. We’ll always be angry if we remain chained to your empire.”
Malini said nothing for a moment. There were consequences to such a vow. She could not unilaterally alter the shape of Parijatdvipa. She did not know what Aditya or his men would say, in the face of a woman’s foolish promise.
Oh, vows could be broken. Of course they could. And yet Priya was… not entirely a safe person to lie to. And worse still, Malini did not want to break a promise to her.
There was a sound, somewhere below them. Priya’s jaw hardened.
“Promise me this, or one way or another, you die here.”
“You’ll kill me after all, Priya?”
“No, you fool woman,” Priya said, eyes blazing. “No. Never me.”
Malini was not sure she understood what she felt in that moment—the furious storm of feeling in her—but she knew the choice that lay before her.
“I vow it,” she said. “If you save my life—if I am reunited with Rao—then Ahiranya is yours.”
“Well, then.” Priya exhaled, long and slow. The thorns around her receded. The vine at Pramila’s throat crumpled. “We need to go. Now.”
BHUMIKA
When the conch sounded, Bhumika was prepared. She sat in her room in the rose palace with the window lattices thrown open. She listened to the bellow of sound, echoing over the Hirana, over the city that flickered already with burning light.
It was difficult to trace the path of fire, but Bhumika tried nonetheless. The strongest light lay close to the mahal itself, in the district that housed the wealthiest of Ahiranya. All her husband’s advisors. Highborn Parijatdvipans. Merchants. The oldest highborn families of Ahiranya.
Her uncle.
She turned and met Khalida’s eyes.
“Summon the servants to my rooms,” she said. “Quietly.”
Now was the perfect time. The guards would be busy ensuring that the mahal was secured. They wouldn’t question a handful of women and children running for safety, especially not when Khalida was so clearly escorting them on her kindhearted mistress’s orders.
She waited. Listened to the distant screaming. In her mind, the sangam flickered, full of Ashok’s fury and pain, wet with blood.
The servants and children were ushered in. They looked at her nervously. Some of the younger ones were weeping.
“The city is burning,” said Bhumika without preamble. “The rebels have attacked those they consider a threat to Ahiranya, and its potential freedom.” And everything and everyone else—the wooden houses of Hiranaprastha, their residents, even the innocent servants of the mahal—were acceptable collateral to her brother. “They will attack the mahal. They will, perhaps, break the perimeter. And they will come for us.” She looked at each one of them. “I promised you when I gave you a place in this household that you would be safe. I will not allow this night to break my vow.”