Something green speared through the male rebel’s chest.
It will take you a while to die from that too, Mithunan wanted to crow. But he had no words left in him. Everything had seeped out of him.
The darkness enfolded him like a cloak.
MALINI
They made their way to the triveni. Here, Malini could smell smoke. Hear far-off sounds—like voices, wailing.
“I can guide you down,” said Priya.
Malini looked down at the Hirana, over the edge of the triveni. The surface was uneven, all slick edges, sharp crags. The last time she’d climbed the Hirana, she’d had a guiding rope and guards to keep her alive. But the parts of the Hirana below her had no rope. Even with Priya beside her, she felt a nauseous swoop in her stomach.
“I suppose there’s no other way,” she murmured.
“No,” said Priya. “Not anymore.”
Malini steeled herself. She had to do this, if she wanted to be free. And to die by a fall rather than by poison or fire would be—novel. At least there was that.
She let Priya take her hand. Her first step was on ground that was treacherous and fragile. She felt as if she stood on a broken shell with nothing but a void beneath it. Then the surface steadied beneath her feet. Moss seeped up between her toes. She swallowed, and fixed her eyes on Priya’s face.
“Tell me where to place my feet.”
“Just follow me,” Priya said. “That’s it. Just like that.”
The breeze swirled around them. On it she smelled burning once more.
She kept her eyes on Priya and followed.
“That’s it,” Priya said, in a voice like the wind through leaves. Perhaps she intended it to be soothing. It was—not. Not exactly. “Quicker, if you can.”
“I can’t,” Malini ground out.
She wanted to explain to Priya how little strength she had. But there was a sudden whistling noise in her ears, and a thud, and Priya swore, her grip slipping. An arrow had landed in the ground by their feet. Malini flinched, fighting the instinct to curl into a ball or worse, throw herself backward. She teetered for a moment, supporting her own weight, balanced on nothing but one small outcrop of rock.
Another arrow hissed through the air and Malini jumped to escape it.
The ground gave with a snap and ah—she was stumbling, teetering for a second with nothing to steady her, meeting Priya’s horrified eyes. Fear jolted through her. She was going to fall. She dropped with a noiseless scream—
And was caught. Moss, like a netting at her back. Her heart was pounding, and she clasped one sweat-slippery hand on rock. Any rock. She could feel the moss hissing and forming behind her, knitting together with unnatural speed, cradling her body up.
“Priya.”
Priya was staring at her, openmouthed.
“I didn’t know I could do that,” she said faintly. And then, as if startling herself out of a stupor, she strode forward and heaved Malini back to her feet. She did not do it by physical strength alone, although Malini could feel the iron grip of her hands and see the way her jaw clenched as she strained to drag Malini back up; Malini could feel the green push too, as if it were an extension of Priya, responding to her movements.
She gripped Priya’s wrists.
“Don’t let go of me again,” she gasped.
“I won’t.”
“Even if we risk being skewered. Don’t let go.”
“I won’t.” Priya’s fingertips were gentle on Malini’s skin—on the race of her pulse. She tightened her grip, eyes on Malini’s. Her face was very gray. “I won’t,” she repeated.
They made their way down the Hirana. Slow, slow. Another arrow landed, and Priya swore violently and dragged Malini down to hunch against the rock. She bared her teeth—the only rage she’d shown since they began their descent—then drew Malini back to standing and continued to guide her.
“They’re not trying to hurt us,” Priya said to her in a low voice. “They’re trying to scare us into staying still so they can collect me. So we’ll survive this, Malini. I promise.”
Malini could have wept, when she felt steady soil beneath her feet once more. But she was not that sort of woman, so she merely gave Priya a nod and straightened her spine, looking toward the general’s mahal.
The mahal itself was well protected, with high, impassable walls. Like any busy mahal, it would usually be porous, with servants and visitors pouring in and out—but Malini could see that the work of shutting the way had begun swiftly. The lattice windows were black. On the roof stood archers, their arrow tips lit by flame.