Despite the control Virat exerted, Chandra realized that it wasn’t exactly effortless. He was breathing hard, and his teeth were clenched as if he were fighting something.
“Run, Kalpana,” Chandra said, surprised to discover she could still speak her mind. But even as the command left her lips, Chandra grabbed her friend by the arm, restraining Kalapana. Her curved dagger moved slowly, the sharp blade to resting at her friend’s vulnerable throat.
Kalpana watched with wide eyes, seemingly too terrified to do anything but be passive.
“Fight me, Kalpana. Do something. I can’t control my actions.”
“Shut up.” Virat thundered in her mind and her throat seized up. Chandra’s temples pounded and tears leaked out of her eyes. Blood ran down Kalpana’s neck in a thin trickle, the edge of her knife slicing through the delicate skin.
“I love to hear my prey pleading for help, but that doesn’t mean I can muzzle your mouth,” snarled Virat.
Kalpana seemed to shake off the sudden stupor that invaded her upon hearing his words. Perhaps it finally registered that no help was coming, and they were on their own.
She grabbed Chandra’s hands and fought; near death giving her sudden strength enough to escape. “Help!” she shouted, as she set herself free and made a sudden dash through the trees and shrubs.
Chandra’s dagger flew and struck the upper part of Kalpana’s leg. She went down with a crash and landed on her outstretched hand; her scream echoing through the still night.
Chandra and Virat made their way toward where she fell. Chandra felt her walk to be an uneven, disjointed gait with random flashes where she slipped through Virat’s control. She tried to fight his invasion, but his power was like that of a python, coiling around her consciousness, seeking and embedding itself into the crevices of her brain.
Kalpana’s hand hung limply from her wrist, as if broken. She cradled it to her chest and sat up, her cries fading to whimpers. The surrounding trees seemed to swallow all sound. Her injured leg bent under her, and Chandra’s dagger lay at her side on the ground. At least it hadn’t embedded itself into her flesh.
But the relief was short-lived as Chandra took stock of their situation. Kalpana was no fighter, had absolutely no training whatsoever, and the sight of blood made her lightheaded.
How were they going to get out of this alive?
Chandra felt a sudden moisture drip down her nose onto the front of her pristine white saree. With effort, she managed to tilt her head down slightly and saw a red stain spread along the fibers, shining like a danger beacon. Her nose was bleeding. She observed through the corner of her eye that Virat was similarly affected. He pinched the bridge of his nose to stem the flow of blood.
Kalpana’s sobs had faded into a defeated silence, but Chandra observed her friend’s hand close around a rock on the ground. Hidden beneath Kalpana’s skirt, Virat wouldn’t notice the movement of her hand.
Suddenly a rock flew and stuck Virat on his forehead, close to his eye, with a densethwack. His head swung back, and he screamed, covering his eye with his free hand. Kalpana was an expert at slingshot and her skill came in handy.
Not a moment later, Chandra’s dagger, which was lying beside Kalpana, sailed through the air. It was the first time Chandra knew that Kalpana had ever thrown one; but by some miracle, her aim went true, and it embedded itself into his abdomen.
Chandra felt the pressure in her head lessen and before she could consciously think of doing it, she whirled, her second dagger already fitted into her hand, her movements reflexive from long practice. It flashed silver as she slashed at Virat’s throat in a wide arc, making a deep cut.
A gurgling sound came from him as he weaved back and forth, clutching his throat. Blood poured over his hands from the gash, spraying it on her face as she kicked him, forcing the other dagger deeper into his abdomen. He fell backward from the force of her blow, eyes wide in a face frozen with surprise.
Minutes passed. Chandra stared down at him, dazed, and watched as life left his eyes and he lay still. Dead. The thunder of her heartbeat in her ears didn’t fade. The breath was still short in her lungs, as she tried to grapple with the fact that she had just killed a man.
She jumped when Kalpana touched her shoulder.
“Chandra, people are coming,” she whispered.
Chandra became aware of shouts and yells as people came to investigate the ruckus they had made. Torches flared to life in the distance. Belatedly, she remembered the prince himself waswaiting for her not too far. He was bound to come here to find out what happened now that she was undeniably late.Her mind raced with possibilities. A cold that had nothing to do with the weather seeped into her.
“You need to go.” She made Kalpana sit on the ground, then tore a strip of cloth from the bottom of her skirt and tied a tourniquet around her bleeding leg. Her fingers were wet with blood and the knot slipped several times, making her anxiety peak. Her mind raced and she couldn’t seem to pin down a thought. Except one thing: she needed to get her friend out of there.
“Go to Dhanvantri,” said Chandra, referring to the royal physician, the words rushing out of her. “Don’t tell him the details of what happened. Cross his palms with silver if you need to. You should have enough in your rooms. Absolutely speak to no one about this.”
“What are you talking about, Chandra? I don’t understand.” Kalpana placed her hands over hers. They were clammy with sweat, and her grip was borderline painful.
Chandra tried to pry off her hands gently, squeezing her friend’s fingers in reassurance. She wasn’t sure how successful she was when Kalpana continued to stare at her with wide, scared eyes. “Who’ll believe our story, Kalpana? Do you think Rajgarh will admit they had a person who could control others among their ranks?”
“But…you were here too. You can tell everyone what happened. They’ll believe a princess.”
“Do you imagine reasons will matter when it becomes clear that we’re responsible for the death of Virat? He isn’t an ordinary person. He is Prince Veer’s best friend and occupies a high rank in the military. Rajgarh will be baying for blood.
“No one will care about you, Kalpana. Amaravathi would hand you over on a platter if it meant appeasing Rajgarh forthe death of an important person. It’s not about murder or punishing the culprit anymore, it’s politics.
