She thought of Priya.
“Tomorrow,” said Malini. “I look forward to it.”
PRIYA
There was no sign of the woman who had whispered to her in the tent.
But Priya strode into the dark of the trees surrounding the seeker’s path, where time tugged and pulled strangely, the uneasy blur of light beyond the maze of trunks breaking into even deeper fractures. She felt movement around her, like water. Then she left the path and felt the strangeness melt away.
There was the woman. Waiting.
And there was Rukh, bound to a tree by its own roots. There was a gag in his mouth, and when he saw Priya he made a guttural noise that would have been a shout if it were not muffled.
“I expected him to come quietly,” the woman said. “But the boy was—reluctant.” Her mouth pursed. “How quickly the loyalties of children change.”
“I should fashion a spear of wood and set it through your skull,” Priya said, clenching her hands tight. “Or perhaps I should sink you into the ground and let the worms have you.”
“I have roots around his throat,” the woman said calmly. “I can strangle him before you can save him or murder me.”
“You can’t.”
“Strangulation takes time,” the woman agreed. “Instead I’ll just snap his neck.”
“He was one of your own,” said Priya. “Loyal to you and your cause. You’d really kill him?”
“If still he had any loyalty, he’d die willingly for the sake of seeing Ahiranya free.”
“He’s a child,” Priya snapped. “You’d truly murder a child you know, with your own power?”
There was a noise—a hiss, as the roots coiled tighter, and Rukh kicked his feet furiously against the ground.
Well, that was certainly an answer.
A line of watery blood oozed from the woman’s nose. Trickled down her lip. She brushed it away with the back of her hand.
“We’re spitting distance from Parijatdvipans who’d be happy to see rebels strung up,” said Priya. “And the people traveling with me have no reason to like you very much either.”
“Well, they didn’t stop me,” said the woman, who wore no mask and carried none. There were strands of silver in her hair, lines around her mouth. “Without my mask, you and I are alike enough. Maidservant and maidservant. Common woman and common woman. Invisible.”
“We’re nothing alike.”
“No,” agreed the woman. “You are a temple child. You have a duty to Ahiranya. When I was your age, I was no more than a worshipper, a pilgrim at your temple. And now I am your brother’s follower, here to seek your help and ensure that you fulfill your duty. All you need to do is tell me the way.”
“And where is Ashok? Why are you here, and not him?”
The woman cocked her head slightly. “You won’t give me the way? Even now?”
“If Ashok wanted to hurt or manipulate me, he’d do it himself,” said Priya. “He doesn’t even know you’re here, does he? But you’re loyal to him. Obedient. Why would you come here without his blessing?”
The woman said nothing.
“He’s dying, then,” Priya murmured. She hated the way her heart twisted at the thought, a dull ache in her breast and throat.
The woman said nothing again, but Rukh made a choked noise, low and terrible, as if the roots had tightened further still.
“I can’t simply tell you the way,” Priya said quickly. “The way must be shown. And if Ashok is dying, there’s a high possibility he won’t have the strength to reach the Hirana before the end.”
The woman shook her head. “The way alone isn’t all I desire from you. Ashok has a vision that must be fulfilled whether he… whether he lives or not.” The woman swallowed, grief flickering over her face. “You have condemned him. But I know the vision is greater even than him, so I will put any thoughts of justice aside if you will come with me, and hear him speak.”
She could not leave Bhumika and Sima and the rest of them vulnerable. But she couldn’t leave Rukh either.
“Come with me and listen to your brother,” said the woman. “Or the boy dies.”
“Let him go now, and I’ll come.”
The woman snorted. “No,” she said. “He comes with us.”
Priya looked at Rukh. His hair was stuck to his sweat-damp forehead, his face flushed, terrified and angry.
“Fine,” said Priya. “Let’s go.”