“I closed it,” she pushed on. “Hid it again. The way to the deathless waters is gone.”
The rebel hesitated a second longer.
The ground shook beneath their feet, huge thorns bursting from the sod. The standing rebel yelped, falling backward. A line of blood bloomed on their arm. The wood of the mask was scored with a white line of damage, dangerously close to the eye socket.
The smaller rebel—possibly a woman—had their hand open before them. As if that motion could hold the thorns back. And perhaps it could.
Upon the ground, those thorns were twisting, curling upon themselves.
“You’re not the only one with gifts.” Through the mask, their voice was hollow, distorted by wood. “I’m water-blessed too.”
“Vial-blessed,” Priya gritted out. “A dead thing walking. You won’t live long.”
If the rebel had any thoughts on that statement, their feelings were well hidden by the mask. “You could save us all, if you only showed us the way. We should be on the same side.”
“Tell your leader that,” said Priya. “You tell him he was the one who brought us to this point. Not me. I want what I’ve always wanted.” Priya did not move a hand, and the thorns slowly began to uncurl again, bristling. The movement was slow. Too slow.
“Your will isn’t stronger than mine,” said the rebel. “You are not a creature of conviction. You serve nothing.”
“I’m stronger than you think,” said Priya. And then the ground began to break beneath the rebels. The thorns bent in closer, menacing. “Your leader doesn’t want my corpse,” Priya said, as they struggled to maintain their balance. “We both know that. But me? I wouldn’t mind killing you at all. So my advice to you is simple:Run.”
They didn’t want to. That much was clear. But the sod was churning beneath them, new thorns creeping free like spindly fingers, clawed and curving. So they turned and made their scrambling retreat.
Priya did not even watch them go. She was panting, her arm already livid with bruising, staring at something beyond them. Malini followed the tilt of her head. Saw what Priya saw.
There was a man near the mahal. He was not moving toward them. Malini was not even sure he was watching. The eyes of his mask were black pits. He stood with a bow propped against his leg, making no move to use it. His head tilted back. Like an acknowledgment, or a challenge.
“Come,” muttered Priya, taking a step back. Another. Malini sucked in a breath and followed her.
It seemed it was now their turn to run.
They didn’t stand out in the city as Malini had feared they would, because the violence of the rebels and the equally violent response of the general’s soldiers had sown chaos. The wooden houses of Hiranaprastha had been no match for it. Soon they were darting through a burning maze of buildings. Even if Malini had not spent months trapped in a single room, she would have been overwhelmed by the scope and size of the madness.
As it was, all she could do was grit her teeth and force herself to keep moving, no matter how her body threatened to betray her. The crowd jostled her, the pressure crushing, and Priya gripped her tighter. “Don’t let go of me,” urged Priya. “Hold on to me like we’re still climbing down the Hirana. Just like that.”
“I can smell the fire,” Malini said, voice throttled by the taste of it and the memories it dredged up in her.
“I know,” said Priya. “I know.” She was blinking hard, her eyes streaming, the whites red from smoke. For the briefest moment, she was not looking at Malini but through her: caught up in the darkness of her own past. “Don’t think of it.” She tightened her grip. “We can’t think of it. We need to keep moving.”
Priya led them on, a woman on a mission. Through narrow alleys and wide streets full of people and shouting and chaos. She gestured at Malini to cover her face with her pallu, to keep out the acrid scent, as Malini’s eyes streamed from the smell and the feel of the smoke.Keep moving, Malini told herself.Keep moving, you’re so close. We’re so close.
She could see the forest in the distance when Priya suddenly veered to the right, dragging Malini beneath the cover of a stone alcove. The crowds still surged by them.
Priya’s expression was resolute.
“You go,” said Priya. “Go to your loyal follower, whatever his name is. He’s waiting for you, under the bower of bones. I’ll tell you the way; it’s not far from here. Go and he’ll take you to your brother.”
“You think I can survive here alone?” Malini asked incredulously. “I have a high opinion of myself, I promise you, but I’m hardly capable of making my way through a burning city without dying.”
“We all learn this way,” said Priya.
“By hoping we won’t die, when the odds are thoroughly stacked against us?”
Malini did not mean it seriously, but Priya’s mouth was firm, her eyes solemn as she nodded.
“Yes,” said Priya.
“You asked me to make a promise,” Malini tried. “You asked me to make a vow to you, for the sake of your Ahiranya. Won’t you try to ensure that I live to see it fulfilled?”
