“I’ve told Swati to keep her distance,” Lata murmured, voice low. She placed a steaming pot down and two bowls. Lifted the lid, releasing some of the steam. It was kichadi, cooked slow to a yellow, creamy thickness, likely taken from the communal pot shared by the entire camp. “She’s boiling bandages for the physicians. I’ll make sure the other women don’t come either.”
“Good,” Malini said. She should have looked up at Lata—read things unsaid in her face. But she could not.
Priya was so quiet. She’d wiped some of the river murk from Priya’s skin with a cloth, but her hair was still snarled and wet, leaving blotches of water on the pillow. Her eyes were closed; her gold lashes darkened to the same brown as her skin. There were gashes on her arms, and on her collarbone. They were bleeding petals.
“Your generals are looking for you,” Lata said quietly.
She’d spoken to Prakash already. But oh, what a strange conversation that had been. Once he had realized the battle was truly over, he had followed her and bowed to her.Apologized, for all the times he had allowed her strength and her rule to be tested without interfering. “I did not treat you as what you are,” he said. “Chosen of the mothers. Prophesized by the nameless.Empress.I will never falter again.”
Usually, that confession would have brought her no end of joy.
But not now.
“Rao should distract them,” Malini said.
“Shall I tell him so?”
“Please, Lata.”
Malini couldn’t stay away long. She knew that. They had to keep moving. They had to take advantage of this win and make their way toward Harsinghar before news of the defeat reached Chandra and he could send more men to face her own. Her path lay before her. She could not falter now.
But Priya hadn’t woken.
“Lata,” Malini said. “Tell him I’ll join them within the hour. Please make sure no one comes to seek me out.”
Lata inclined her head. She hesitated as if she wished to speak. But then she turned and walked away, the curtain of the tent swishing behind her.
Malini had thought she would struggle to stay still; struggle to keep her body unmoving. The battle felt like it was still racing through her, every roar, every shout, the hiss of every saber withdrawn. The slick, raw noise of cleaved meat.
But Priya’s stillness had stilled her in turn. Malini had faced her brother’s army. She had watched a river turn and a bridge grow out of nothing. Priya had saved her, as Priya always saved her.
She thought of the time they had been alone together in Ahiranya’s forest. The way Priya had bled and almost died. The way they had lain next to each other by a pool of clear water, mouths bruised from kissing, and spoken of knowing each other. Of the monster Malini would have to become, for the sake of power.
Malini carefully plucked the flowers away from Priya’s arms. Then she lowered her face to the crook of Priya’s elbow and closed her eyes. She could smell the river—algae and soil and salt.
She felt a hand in her hair. Trembling.
Malini raised her head sharply up. Priya’s eyes were open and watching her. The whites were run through with darts of green, like veins of discoloration through gemstones.
“Malini,” Priya whispered. “Are you here?”
“I am,” Malini confirmed. She resisted the urge to press her fingertips to Priya’s cheek, or the palm of her hand to Priya’s forehead—to feel for fever, or simply touch. “Have you been hallucinating?”
“I’ve been traveling,” Priya said, which sounded like ayes. “I’m not myself. I think—I think you can probably tell.” A laugh left her then, a laugh that was half a sob. She smiled, and the smile fell immediately from her mouth, as if her flesh refused to carry it. “What happened?”
“You drowned a swathe of my brother’s men,” Malini said. Hushed. She wanted to run her fingers through Priya’s hair—smooth it down, pluck the green from it until it was pure and dark again. “Saved my soldiers. Allowed us to win the battle.” This time she couldn’t help but touch, resting her hand against Priya’s own. The skin was water-chilled. “You’ve saved me once again.”
“That’s what you summoned me for, isn’t it? My magic. Me saving you,” Priya said. “I did it. My duty.”
Malini stared at her silently. She hadn’t been prepared to feel guilt. She had no use for it. But there it was, coiling up in her chest, filling her lungs so there was no room in them for air.
“It’s okay,” Priya said with a laugh that was all wild, sharp edges. “I wanted to do it.”
Priya sat up suddenly, drawing her hand free from Malini’s. She moved to stand, legs shaky under her. Buds bloomed under the soles of her feet as she took one stumbling step, then another. Malini rose swiftly in alarm.
“What are you doing?”
“Losing myself,” Priya gasped out, which meant nothing to Malini at all. “Every time I go further—I become more her—not myself. She said.”
