She did not want to do this. She would regret doing this.
She wanted to do this. She wanted to know if she could.
She could hear Sima’s panicked breath.
There were raised carvings, on this step: serpents coiled into heaps, a cobra with its mouth parted and its teeth pointed up. She felt the sharp edge against her skin. Froze.
She heard a voice in her head. Not her brother’s this time. Low, cultured. Amused.
An elder.
You and the Hirana have a special bond, don’t you, small one? The memory of hands on her shoulders. A figure looming over her, robed in a sheath of white cotton, beads of sacred wood cascading from their hair. But don’t forget it’s built to trick your eyes. So don’t trust your eyes.
She swore internally. Closed her eyes, as if her temple elders were still alive and there to be obeyed, to approve of her. She moved her foot farther to the left, trusting her skin. Roughness gave way to soft vines, tangled together. Beneath them the stone was solid.
One step. Another. Another. She tested the ground. Broken, here. Solid, here. She could hear Gauri still shouting, voice hoarse. The stone dipped, sudden and sharp, and Priya stopped once more, curling her toes against the ground. Sima’s breath was close now, very close, so Priya opened her eyes.
Sima lay on the ground before her. The whites of her eyes were bright in the dark.
Priya drew back her feet and kneeled on the ground where it was rough enough to hold her steady. Then she lay on her stomach. Held out her hand.
“You can climb now,” she said. “If you use me. But you’ll have to let go of the rock and take hold of me. Can you do that for me, Sima?”
“I…” Sima stopped. Her bloodless fingers twitched. “I… don’t think I can.”
“You can,” Priya said steadily.
“I’ll drag you down too. We’ll both die.”
“You won’t,” Priya said, although she wasn’t entirely sure. “Come on now, Sima.”
“The ghosts are going to take me,” whispered Sima. “I know it.”
“If there’s any justice, the spirits of the temple elders and temple children are with the yaksa, somewhere far away from the Hirana,” Priya said quietly. “And if there isn’t, well. I don’t think those ghosts would want good Ahiranyi lives, when there are plenty of Parijati above us for the taking.”
“Priya,” Sima bit out. “Don’t. You’ll—”
“Get in trouble? You can tell me off properly when we’re both safe. I promise I’ll listen.”
Sima let out a whimper that might have been an attempt at a laugh. She squeezed her eyes shut. “Priya. I’m scared.”
“You don’t have to be scared. I’m right here.” Priya pressed her upper arms down onto the stone, dragging herself a little closer. Just enough that she could touch her hand to Sima’s. She could feel Sima’s fingers shaking. “The worthy are always safe on the Hirana,” Priya said. “That’s what they used to tell pilgrims. And you’re worthy, Sima. I’ve decided it. So you’re going to be fine.”
Sima’s grip faltered. Her body jolted, and Priya scrambled for her, heart racing. Sima’s hand clamped back against stone a moment later.
“Priya!” Her voice was reedy with terror.
“Take my hand,” Priya said. “Come.”
After a long, fraught moment, Sima did. She clasped Priya’s hand in a painful, wrenching grip. She choked out a sob, then a scream, and dragged herself up, up. Her nails dug into Priya’s skin. Priya gritted her own teeth, hooking her foot against rock, and prayed they’d both survive.
Finally, Sima was free from the hollow. Gasping, they both climbed to their feet. Above them, the other maidservants were silent—afraid, perhaps, that a single noise would make them fall.
Deep breath in. Out.
“Hold my arms,” Priya said finally. Now that she had Sima, the panic had finally caught up with her. She could feel it singing in her blood, in the hot sting of the nail marks on her arms. “I’ll guide you back to the rope.”
It took time. But eventually they climbed back to the others and gripped the guiding rope. Sima collapsed to her knees, crying; another maidservant murmured to her and placed a hand on her head.
Priya felt a sharp rap against her shoulder. She turned to see Gauri. The older woman’s face was bloodless white. Eyes unblinking.
“You fool,” she said. “Both of you. Stop blubbering, Sima. We’re late.”