She kept her eyes on Priya and followed.
“That’s it,” Priya said, in a voice like the wind through leaves. Perhaps she intended it to be soothing. It was—not. Not exactly. “Quicker, if you can.”
“I can’t,” Malini ground out.
She wanted to explain to Priya how little strength she had. But there was a sudden whistling noise in her ears, and a thud, and Priya swore, her grip slipping. An arrow had landed in the ground by their feet. Malini flinched, fighting the instinct to curl into a ball or worse, throw herself backward. She teetered for a moment, supporting her own weight, balanced on nothing but one small outcrop of rock.
Another arrow hissed through the air and Malini jumped to escape it.
The ground gave with a snap and ah—she was stumbling, teetering for a second with nothing to steady her, meeting Priya’s horrified eyes. Fear jolted through her. She was going tofall. She dropped with a noiseless scream—
And was caught. Moss, like a netting at her back. Her heart was pounding, and she clasped one sweat-slippery hand on rock. Any rock. She could feel the moss hissing and forming behind her, knitting together with unnatural speed, cradling her body up.
“Priya.”
Priya was staring at her, openmouthed.
“I didn’t know I could do that,” she said faintly. And then, as if startling herself out of a stupor, she strode forward and heaved Malini back to her feet. She did not do it by physical strength alone, although Malini could feel the iron grip of her hands and see the way her jaw clenched as she strained to drag Malini back up; Malini could feel the green push too, as if it were an extension of Priya, responding to her movements.
She gripped Priya’s wrists.
“Don’t let go of me again,” she gasped.
“I won’t.”
“Even if we risk being skewered. Don’t let go.”
“I won’t.” Priya’s fingertips were gentle on Malini’s skin—on the race of her pulse. She tightened her grip, eyes on Malini’s. Her face was very gray. “I won’t,” she repeated.
They made their way down the Hirana. Slow, slow. Another arrow landed, and Priya swore violently and dragged Malini down to hunch against the rock. She bared her teeth—the only rage she’d shown since they began their descent—then drew Malini back to standing and continued to guide her.
“They’re not trying to hurt us,” Priya said to her in a low voice. “They’re trying to scare us into staying still so they can collect me. So we’ll survive this, Malini. I promise.”
Malini could have wept, when she felt steady soil beneath her feet once more. But she was not that sort of woman, so she merely gave Priya a nod and straightened her spine, looking toward the general’s mahal.
The mahal itself was well protected, with high, impassable walls. Like any busy mahal, it would usually be porous, with servants and visitors pouring in and out—but Malini could see that the work of shutting the way had begun swiftly. The lattice windows were black. On the roof stood archers, their arrow tips lit by flame.
Beyond the mahal the city of Hiranaprastha was burning. Smoke coiled in the air, a halo of it.
“One of them is here,” Priya said tightly. “No. More than that.” She was still holding Malini’s hands, and she gripped them even tighter for a moment before finally letting go. Then she turned, facing the open expanse of land, marked only by outcroppings of trees.
A shadow moved beneath the trunks of those trees. Just for a moment.
Malini stood very still, the wind whipping her hair.
Then, suddenly—there they were.
Two people wearing wooden masks, great fearsome carved faces, raced toward them. Priya shoved Malini gracelessly down against the ground, and Malini flattened without complaint. She did not want to die like this, not when freedom was so close, not when she had a chance of reaching Rao and Aditya and the vengeance she craved. And combat had never been her strength.
But it certainly was Priya’s. She moved with a snake’s venomous swiftness. She was not a tall woman, but there was strength in her shoulders, in the corded muscle of those arms. She caught the first rebel with a shoulder to the stomach, tackling them to the ground. The rebel was winded, but they recovered quickly, throwing a fist at Priya’s face.
She dodged, but the movement dislodged her hold, and the rebel was up, turning on her again. This punch didn’t miss. Priya was caught on her side and hit the ground hard. The masked rebel was on her, fists flying. And Malini was on her feet after all, propelled by some wild instinct, as if her meager strength would be enough to see either of these rebels away.
But Priya—Priya was laughing. The rebel paused, as their companion slowed to a stop behind them, no longer running to join the fray.
“If you kill me, the way will go with me,” Priya hissed. “If you kill me you all die, desperately sipping your vials.”
The rebel above Priya froze.
