The Nameless laughed in a corner, blue stars shining on their throats. The knowledge that they werevishakanyasunsettled her. As the Lord of Treasures walked across the emptied floors and made his way to her, the Nameless had twirled in a circle and executed a clumsy bow in his direction.
“Another hundred years of magic are ours,” they sang. “Our vengeance lives on.”
“Yes,” said the Lord of Treasures, and Aasha thought she heard an echo of sadness in his voice. “You’ve passed on your enchantments for another hundred years. Perhaps, one day, your vengeance will give way to freedom. Or perhaps you will always dance out of time, not quite ghosts and not quite beings, shedding a little more of your humanity every time.”
“We do this for her,” the Nameless said, pointing at Aasha and sneering. “We will do it again.” They turned to Aasha. “You see, girl? We are you as you are us. We gave you and your sisters the gift of our blood and our legacy. Because of us, nothing can touch you. You should be thanking us, not mourning those things. They would not mourn you.”
Aasha said nothing, and the Nameless only laughed and disappeared.
“You let them die,” she said.
“I am not so cruel, child,” said the Lord of Treasures, lifting her chin. “I merely let their choices play out as they will.”
“What will happen to them?”
“That is not for either of us to decide,” he said. “Here. Have a wish for yourself.”
He held out his hand to show a wisp of light dancing at the center of his palm. A choice stretched out before her. The words of the Nameless rang in her ears:nothing can touch you.They were right. Knowledge and curiosity would never brush against her mind. She would only know an enclosure of silk and poison. She would know only the desires of others and nothing of her own. Magic was a bargain. In a hundred years, perhaps thevishakanyamagic would ebb little by little, turning them human once more if they lived that long.
But Aasha was restless. The Tournament of Wishes had ignited a hunger in her own heart. Curiosity felt like a phantom limb, a part of her that had died and demanded resurrection. In the arms of her sisters, the world was so small she could cup it in her palms. That world had love and friendship. The Nameless were wrong. Vengeance wasn’t their legacy. Only venom. Her sisters were proof. So many of them entered thevishakanyas’ fold not for vengeance… but for freedom. They didn’t even call their gift vengeance, but a Blessing. They made it their own.
With her knees folded beneath her, Aasha felt like a fledgling bird, half blind and all eager. She reached for the wispy wish, curling it between her fingers and bringing it to her lips. She uttered her wish without words—a wish for control and choice, for curiosity and courage. When she opened her eyes, the Lord of Treasures was gone. And so was her star.
Aasha had wandered through the courtyard, circling thevishakanyas’ tent for most of the night until she summoned the courage to enter and reveal what she had done. She switched between her human andvishakanyaself, bracing herself for disgust. But her sisters’ embraces were nothing but warm, though they were careful to make sure they could touch her. They pressed their true names to her wrists, and enchanted bracelets sprouted around her arms: protection spells and keys between worlds, charms for beauty and wealth, for good health and better dreams.
That night, she slept in the forest, beneath the stars and on a bed of blossoms. The next day, she made her way to the gates of Alaka and she found a familiar silhouette waiting at the exit. Gauri stared at the gate as if her heart were on the other side. The moment she saw Aasha, she smiled widely before her gaze fell to the empty patch of skin at her neck.
“My wish came true,” said Aasha.
“You wished to no longer be avishakanya?”
She shook her head. “I wished to honor the heritage of my sisters and my own curiosity.”
Aasha removed her hand, and the blue star flared onto her skin before disappearing.
“You can control it?” Gauri asked, wide-eyed.
“Perhaps it will be of use to me during my travels.”
“Where will you go?”
“I haven’t quite figured that out yet, but I think that’s what I like most.”
Gauri grinned. “I don’t know where your travels will take you, but there will always be a home for you in Bharata. And plenty of food, so you won’t have to try eating a flower again.” Aasha laughed. “A room and a meal is the least I could offer. You saved our lives.”
Aasha fell quiet. “Maybe you saved mine too.” She held out her hand, but Gauri pushed it aside and drew her into a hug. “I wish you well, my friend.”
“And I wish you will have no need of wishes.”
Gauri stepped past the gates, her chin held high and eyes fixed on a world that Aasha couldn’t see. Magic sparked through the air, sifting light through her skin until she looked like a held flame: incandescent and roaring. In a blink, she disappeared. Aasha smiled to herself and walked slowly to the gate. She looked over her shoulder, to the magic of golden spires piercing the sky, to the crumpled silk pennants of her sisters’ tent and the rustling of feathers on the wings of unfinished stories. She walked forward.
This time, she didn’t look back.
44
A TURNED HEART
GAURI
