“He tried to protect me,” she ground out, forcing the words through pain, tears. “The priest—Kartik—he tried to save me from—from—”
“The Ahiranyi,” one man said quietly, and the words rippled away from him, carried from one mouth to the next. The Ahiranyi. The Ahiranyi. The Ahiranyi witch.
“Someone find a physician,” Khalil ordered. “Now, men. Go!”
Running again. And she was being carried. It hurt. It hurt.
Her work was almost done. Almost.
“He told me that if he must die, after all he has done to protect our empire from Chandra’s malice, then I must live for the good of Parijatdvipa,” Malini said. She allowed herself to weep. Her tears were not evidence of weakness now, but noble tears, brave tears. “The yaksa are coming, and I must live.”
“Calm yourself, Empress,” Khalil said, striding faster. His tunic was wet with blood. “A physician!Quickly!”
I was foolish, Malini thought bitterly, as her vision began to fade, and her body waver,to ever think I could have Priya and also have this.
MALINI
She woke in pain. That was no surprise. The surprise was waking at all.
The light filtered in, muted by silk screens drawn over the lattices. Rao was largely in shadow, but ah, what a relief for him to be there at all: sitting at her side, when almost everyone else she had trusted was gone.
Her heart felt deadened: Priya. Priya. Priya. It was not a howl but a muted grief that twisted through her, throbbing dully with her wound.
Kartik had told her it would kill her. But she had seen, at the end of a thorn blade, the exact limitations of what Kartik had known.
She sat up.
“Malini,” Rao said. Leaden. Then he corrected himself. “Empress. I’ll call the physician.”
Rao’s eyes were strange, almost fathomless. For a moment, as he leaned over her, she stared into them and saw no pupils, no sclera, only blazing fire—
Then he blinked, and his eyes were his own again.
A trick of the light, surely. A trick of her grieving heart.
“Rao,” she whispered. “Tell me. How long have I slept?”
An exhale.
“Weeks,” he said heavily. “Weeks and weeks. Your generals have been running the city. Lady Raziya, Lady Deepa, Lata—they’ve spoken for you. You woke, a few times. But you don’t remember.”
“No,” she said. “No.”
She looked at him. His tired, pinched face. The tremble of his jaw.
“Tell me,” she said. “You have something to tell me.”
He bowed his head.
“Malini,” he said. “I’m so sorry. Your brother is dead.”
“I know,” she said dully. “I know.”
“Not Chandra,” said Rao. “Not only Chandra. I…” He swallowed. Lowered his head. “I’m sorry.”
Malini stared at him, uncomprehending.
“No,” she said.
