The woman’s name was Kritika. She’d been a pilgrim once, one of the men and women who climbed the Hirana and collected deathless waters, to place at the feet of the yaksa upon their altars, or wear as a talisman of power and fortune. But when the temple council had burned, she’d kept all the water safe, knowing it would one day be needed.
She told Priya all of this, as she dragged Rukh forward on a leash of vine. His hands were bound. He looked at Priya, now and again, and she looked back. It’s going to be okay, she tried to say with her eyes. But Rukh still looked afraid, and there was an angry twist to his mouth, as if he didn’t know if he wanted to yell or cry.
Priya saw other figures in the shadows as they slowed down. The figures wore scythes, their narrowed eyes fixed on her as she passed them. Some were still masked, their identities hidden behind rictuses of wood, but others were bare-faced, their expressions tense.
Kritika stopped before a small bower shrouded in flowers of pale umber, with drooping leaves like veils. Kritika entered the bower with Rukh still bound to her. Time passed. Ashok’s presence was a quiet drum beneath the earth—a song reminding Priya of the ways, large and small, that the waters bound them.
Kritika returned with Rukh.
“He’s waiting for you,” she said.
“Was he angry at you?”
The rebel gave Priya a level look. “Speak to him,” she said. “I’ll wait with the boy.”
“I’ll be back soon,” Priya said, meeting Rukh’s eye. Then she entered the shroud of the leaves.
The world lay in muted shadow. Ashok was lying on his back on the ground, wrapped in a long shawl. He watched Priya approach with eyes that glittered with something akin to fever. His face was gaunt.
He looked like the brother who’d abandoned her on Gautam’s veranda, so many years ago. The brother who had been dying.
“I came here to die in peace,” whispered Ashok. “But I am glad that Kritika did not obey my wishes.” His fingers twitched against the edge of the shawl. “Come closer.”
Priya drew closer. Kneeled down beside him.
“Are you sad, Priya?” he asked. “You knew this would be the consequence of refusing me the deathless waters, after all. My death and theirs.” He gestured weakly at the entrance to the bower, and the watchful figures who lay beyond it.
“Don’t place your death on my shoulders,” she said roughly. “You chose this. You knew the risks.”
“So what happens now, little sister? When I am dead, will you let the empire rip us all apart in its teeth? Will you lock away the deathless waters until you find someone you consider worthy of that power?”
She shook her head, heart aching. “You’re getting what you want after all, Ashok,” she said quietly. “A free Ahiranya. And it’ll be Bhumika’s doing, and my own. Not yours. We made a deal.”
He tried to sit up, his eyes focusing intently on her.
“What kind of deal?”
“Politics aren’t my strength,” said Priya. It was only partially a lie. “You’ll need to ask Bhumika about that. But however it was done, Ahiranya’s independence has been promised, and we’re going to use the strength of the deathless waters to hold on to it. Just as you think we should.”
Ashok gave a choked laugh.
“My two sisters listening to me. I never thought I’d see the day.”
“Your Kritika brought me here against my will. But—it would be useful to have strong fighters working with us in defense of Ahiranya. To have a network of loyal hands and eyes. To have a new temple council that already knows the taste of the waters, and the risks.”
There was a heartbeat of silence as Ashok looked at her. Perhaps it was the sickness that had left him so open and raw, but she could see the hope in his face—in the shape of his mouth. He wanted his followers to live.
“And what will my dear little sister, who claims to know nothing of politics, ask in return?”
“You accept Bhumika as our leader,” said Priya. “You must vow never to try to overthrow her. You must promise, on the yaksa and the waters in your blood, that you will never fight her for control of Ahiranya. Let her be the best of us, Ashok. She’s the only sensible one of the three of us, after all.”
“I cannot promise not to fight or test her,” he said immediately. “She doesn’t understand what Ahiranya should be. She doesn’t care.”
“You’re in no position to bargain, Ashok,” she said.