As a child, she’d learned how to inflict and handle pain. All temple children of the Hirana had been taught to be strong in the same way, so that they would stand a chance of surviving the process of becoming an elder. Three journeys, through magical deathless waters. Three journeys that could leave them dead by drowning. Or other, worse ways.
Priya had sunk beneath the waters once. Only once. And she’d come out with gifts. The ability to manipulate the Hirana. The skill of slipping into the sangam.
She hadn’t done that since she was a girl. She hadn’t been able to.
She looked down at her hands. She’d wanted coin. Wanted power. Maybe, in her secret heart of hearts, she’d even wanted her rightful gifts. But now she stared at her trembling fingers and wondered if her wants were wise. Wondered if her memories had splintered to save her from a greater pain.
Eventually, despite the cold and the water, she dozed. The heat began to filter in, as the sun rose, and she slept uneasily, dreaming that the water beneath her feet was hissing and writhing, that eyes watched her from the dark.
When she woke she saw that someone had brought food. She ate it, then curled up once more. Slept, and dreamt of the water again. Her brother’s shadow in the liquid dark.
Hours passed.
The door clanged open. She thought more food was being brought for her. Instead, she felt a hand upon her arm.
“Come,” said the guard. He was armed to the teeth, but his voice was gentle enough, and his grip, too. “Lady Bhumika wants you.”
Within Lady Bhumika’s chambers in the rose palace, there were profusions of flowers set in ornate vases upon the windows. Cut lilies floated like pale clouds on pools of water, shifting as if a breeze nudged them about with light hands.
Lady Bhumika herself sat on a divan of amethyst silk. She did not recline, despite the profusion of pillows behind her. She sat tall, one hand resting on the swell of her belly. A maidservant stood at her side, fanning her. When Priya entered the room and bowed low, Lady Bhumika did not smile. Her eyes were rimmed with shadow.
“All is well, child,” she said, in a soft voice. “My husband has asked me to make arrangements for you. You need not be afraid.”
“My lady,” Priya said, and bowed her head once more demurely.
Bhumika had a reputation as a kind mistress. Ever since her marriage she had taken the rot-riven and orphaned into her household. All her guards, her servants, were her chosen, and fiercely loyal for it. So when she said, “Leave us alone, now,” it was no surprise that her maidservant lowered the fan and her guards bowed their heads in acknowledgment, all departing in swift silence.
The doors closed with an audible thud. Priya raised her head.
After a moment, Bhumika spoke.
“Tell me what happened.” The softness of her voice fell away, leaving only iron behind, and they were no longer maidservant and mistress.
They were temple daughter and temple daughter. Sisters, although Priya did not often allow herself to think in those terms. She didn’t like to look too closely at what sisterhood meant, a decade since their siblings had burned.
“Meena attacked me on the Hirana,” Priya said. “She knew what I was. She wanted me to show her the way to the deathless waters. And when I told her I couldn’t, she tried to hurt me.” Images of the fight flickered through her mind. They were too fresh to even feel like memories, yet. Her heart still raced. Her skin still itched with magic. “She had a crown mask.”
Bhumika’s right eye gave a rather expressive twitch. “Then? What happened?”
“She put on the mask. She hurt Gauri and tried to hurt Sima. And I—I threw her from the Hirana.”
“Did you say anything to reveal yourself?”
Priya said nothing.
“Priya.”
“Only to her.” She did not mention the princess. She did not know what the princess had heard, after all. Still, her words felt like a lie, one that curdled to bitter terror on her tongue.
“How could you have been such an idiot? Have I taught you nothing?”
“She was going to kill me. What was I meant to do? Hug her?”
Bhumika rolled her eyes. “Spirits, Priya. You could have said nothing. You could have cried out for help. I know there are plenty of guards up there.”
“And letthemspeak to her? She already knew what I—was. Am.” Priya raised her head. “Killing her was the only thing I could do to protect us. It would be worse if I’d admitted what I was and still let her live, wouldn’t it?”
“Obviously, yes,” Bhumika said tersely. “And how did she know what you are anyway?”
