13
THE TRUTH OF FIRST LIGHT
GAURI
A warm hand brushed against my forehead. Without thinking, I had leaned into the embrace when a voice splintered that stolen calm:
“If the girl thing does not awaken by dawn, I claim her body, yes?”
Then followed the thumping sound of someone smartly smacking another person. I blinked. Vikram stared down at me, his lips pressed in a tight line. This close, I could see that his eyes weren’t quite as dark as I’d thought. Lines of gold shot through the deep brown. Like stars breaking through the night. Or sunlight threading through branches. I sat up quickly—
“I wouldn’t do that—” Vikram started.
As if in response, a dull ache throbbed behind my eyes. My vision went black before sight returned. Once more, I was on the ground. Only this time, Vikram’s arms were not around me.
“You hit your head,” he said.
I glared. “That can happen when you’re pushed into a hole in the ground.”
“You’re welcome,” said thevetalabrightly.
When I’d given my body a chance to adjust, I looked around the silk tent, which was half-opened to reveal part of the land and sky. Everything was familiar and unfamiliar. I recognized the citrus and sweet-almond trees to my right. They were identical to the ones in Bharata’s gardens. A wave of homesickness rushed over me, so strong and unyielding that I couldn’t breathe. Beside the trees, the silk pennants of Ujijain fluttered in the windless air. But what stole my breath was the sky dusted with stars. Silvery stairs rose and dwindled into the night sky and I wondered what impossible kingdom they climbed toward.
I looked down and found that I was sitting on a rich rug. Two cotton beds sat low to the ground, downy pillows and warm blankets spread across them.
And the feast.
Split guavas sprinkled with cane sugar filled a crystal bowl. Saffron rice, buttery naan, savory onion and potato dishes, cold yogurt studded with pomegranate seeds like rubies and silver cups of spicy dal waited for us. My vision filled with desserts: crystallized pistachio slivers, dusky almond chews and creamyras malaisprinkled with rose petals. My favorite—golden, syrupygulab jamun—called to me. My mouth watered.
As far as I could tell, there was no one here but us. I checked the makeshift belt I had made from part of Vikram’s jacket, and found my dagger resting warmly against my hip. Aside from the slight headache and the scratch along Vikram’s forearm, we were unscathed from the tumble and the Grotto. Physically, at least.
“Where are we?”
“The Crossroads,” said thevetala,singing.
I thought back to the rhyme from the ruby. We’d already crossed the Grotto, which fitthe place where memories shall devour.Did that mean we were inthe held-breath place to put an end to cowards?
“Well. A feast calls, and I shall answer.” Vikram stood up, dusting his torn tunic.
“Have you gone mad?” I shouted. “We need to think through this!”
This place was clearly enchanted. It didn’t matter that no one else was around us. Magic hid its knives behind a closed-mouth grin. I wasn’t taking any chances.
“I believe he was mad before this,” mused thevetala.“Or maybe it’s the effect of the Crossroads. It likes to unspool things of comfort.”
So that explained the bits of Bharata springing up in this strange place. I paced in the tent. “But how do we get out?”
Vikram heaped food onto his plate and offered me a dish. I hesitated. Ever since the poisoning attempt, I didn’t like eating food that I hadn’t seen prepared. Besides, Maya had always warned me about eating the food of the Otherworld. One bite of the demon fruit had been enough to prove that.
“Do you think I’m trying to poison you?” asked Vikram, raising an eyebrow.
“Are you?”
“You saved my life,” said Vikram. “I would not try to poison you after that. I owe you.”
“Don’t eat that!” I said, making a grab for his plate. But Vikram moved faster, holding the plate aloft. “Do you intend to reward me by dying?”
“Not at all,” he said, turning back to his food and defiantly heaping even more rice onto his plate. “I could marry you, if you’d like. That seems to be a popular reward back home.”
