A wanting heart will make his day
Or you can waste your life recounting fails
But say it, little prince, say you’ll play this game
If you and a partner play, never will you be the same.”
The ashram huts loomed closer and the fires crackled like topaz. The idea took root in Vikram’s mind. He’d built his life on wanting the impossible—true power, recognition, a future—and now magic had found him the moment he stopped looking. It breathed life into all those old dreams, filling him with that most terrible of questions:What if…
But even as his heart leapt to believe it, the sage’s words made him pause.
“Why did you say partner?”
“It is required of your invitation.”
Vikram frowned. The princes in the ashram had never inspired his faith in teams.
“Find the one who glows, with blood on the lips and fangs in the heart.”
“Sounds as though they would be hard to miss.”
“For you, doubly so,” said the sage. His voice expanded. Not quite human. The sound rose from everywhere, dripping from the sky, growing out of the dirt. “Say you will play. Play the game and you may yet win your empire, not just the husk of its name. You only get one chance to accept.”
The sage sliced his hand across the flames. Images spilled out like jewels:
A palace of ivory and gold, riven with black streams where caught stars wriggled and gave up their light. There were prophecies etched on doorframes, and the sky above was nothing but undulating ocean where discarded legends knifed through the water. A thousandyakshasandyakshinistrailed frost, forest brambles, pond swill and cloudy coronets. They were preparing for something. Vikram felt as if he’d tasted his dreams and starved for more.
Magic plucked at his bones, begging him to leave this version of himself behind. He leaned forward, his heart racing to keep up with the present.
“Yes,” he breathed.
As if he could say anything else.
The moment split. Silently, the world fell back on itself.
“Excellent!” said the sage. “We will see you in Alaka at the new moon.”
“Alaka? But that’s, I mean, Ithoughtit was myth.”
“Oh dear boy, getting there is half the game.” The sage winked. “Good for two living entries!”
“What about two living exits?”
“I like you,” laughed the sage.
In a blink, he disappeared.
PART ONE
THE GIRL
1
TO BE A MONSTER
GAURI
Death stood on the other side of the chamber doors. Today I would meet it not in my usual armor of leather and chain mail, but in the armor of silk and cosmetics. One might think one armor was stronger than the other, but a red lip was its own scimitar and a kohl-darkened eye could aim true as a steel-tipped arrow.
