Veer gave him a sideways look as Billadev returned with a wide, shallow bowl full to the brim with water.
“Perhaps you’ll have a better idea of my methods with this demonstration and decide for yourself if you still want my help.”
Veer took a grayish-green stone out of his pocket, blew on it and dropped it into the water. It gently thunked to the bottom. The reflection of the flames rippled in the water and then became still.
Suddenly, the water went black as the reflection winked out. A face peered out of the smooth surface.
Aradatta gave a shocked exclamation and stood up.
“Veer?! What the…what time is it? Why are you calling me in the dead of night?” King Bheesmala’s reflection in the waterstill showed traces of sleep. Then his eyes snapped to alertness the minute he seemed to realize the soot on his son’s face and that he had an audience.
“Hello, Father,” greeted Veer. “Allow me to introduce Aradatta, the captain of the temple city.”
Aradatta faltered for a minute about how to greet the reflection of a person of high importance, before settling for joining his hands innamaste. He struggled to think past his shock at the discovery that the prince was a wizard.
Veer brought his father up to speed quickly.
“We need troops here to the temple city as soon as you can spare.”
It was a mark of how battle ready Rajgarh was and how trusted Prince Veer was that the king didn’t even blink an eye but asked simply, “How many do you need?”
Veer named a number that caused Aradatta to raise his brows. Doubts crept in as he wondered what he was getting himself—and the city—into. He recalled the rumors of the prince’s lust for power and his battle prowess once he set his sights on something.
Aradatta would hate to be the one on whose watch the temple city lost its fabled independence. The discovery that the prince was a wizard didn’t help matters either. Everyone knew you couldn’t trust those magic wielders.
“We shall see to the organizing of the troops once they get here and make sure the temple city is secure before we leave,” said Veer.
“I’d like to be part of that process as well,” Aradatta hastened to add, feeling like control was slipping from his grasp.
“As you wish,” said Veer with raised eyebrows. “Do I take that as an agreement that you are willing to accept help from us?”
Aradatta hesitated.
A chink sounded as the last of the arrows, neatly numbered inBrahmi, was placed on the ground by the princess. Perfect timing as Aradatta needed a minute to comprehend that he was accepting help from a wizard.
King Bheesmala had already retired from water mirror, its reflection once again showing dancing flames.
The hour had gone late, only a few weary people remained; most of them had found a place to shelter, to catch a few hours’ sleep wherever they could. Outside, though, past the city gates, a clutch of men were stationed, keeping watch in rotating shifts through the night. The torches they carried wavered in the gusts of wind.
The princess had moved away from their conversation a while ago, and now seemed to have finished collecting her arrows. Kneeling on one knee, in a typical archer’s crouch, she suspended the bow horizontally above the ground, clasping it in the middle with one hand.
With her other hand, she stretched the empty string of the bow taut, as if she was aiming an arrow up into the sky. Her hand clasped the center of the bow, with the index finger pointing up.
The remaining people watched wide-eyed as the princess got ready to launch one of her magical arrows.
Aradatta realized that the prince was watching as well, with rapt attention, their conversation seemingly forgotten.
A strange atmosphere surrounded her, as if the air held itself still in anticipation. King Amarendra’s mark, drawn in her own blood, shone across her forehead like a beacon. Her eyes were closed and the dark semicircle of eyelashes cast long shadows on her cheeks, accentuating her facial bones, giving her an austere appearance in the wavering light.
The only noise was the crackle of the fire, snapping and burning, and the rustle of coconut fronds as wind whipped them into swaying.
“Vyaam.” The seed word dropped into the silence.
The arrows on the ground vibrated. They lifted, rose to the air as if strung by invisible strings. Ten, twelve…twenty feet, they suspended airborne for the time it took to take a deep breath.
And then, with a whistling sound, they hurtled toward the ground, aiming straight for her.
Aradatta felt the prince tense beside him, he seemed a split second away from pulling her to safety.
