Well. Fine, then.
She hurried back toward the Ahiranyi encampment.
Priya and Sima had been sleeping with a partition up to keep them separate from the soldiers, but it was a far cry from the relative luxuries of home, and a world away from the way the highborn of this army lived. Even the sickroom tent Priya had just vacated had been better appointed, deep in the Saketan section of the camp, which was green, well shaded, and vast enough to hold a branch of the army made up of innumerable highborn lords and not more than a few low princes.
But it had one benefit: It overlooked the fortress.
There was a sea of men pouring out of the fortress, so thick that it reminded Priya of ants heaving out of an anthill doused in boiling water.
Some of them were on fire.
The sight made her dizzy.
She heard footsteps behind her. Turned, and saw Sima running toward her, followed by Jeevan’s men.
“Priya!” Her voice was high with relief. “Priya, I was going to look for you, but they wouldn’t let me.”
“I’m glad you didn’t,” Priya said. Jeevan’s men—the pitiful group she’d brought with her—clutched their weapons, clearly unsure of what to do.
“Elder,” Nitin said grimly. “They—the Parijatdvipans—weren’t expecting a sieged fortress to open its gates and pour out men. They don’t know how to respond.”
“You can tell all of that simply by looking at them?” Priya asked, impressed.
“I heard someone yelling as he ran past,” he said, which made significantly more sense.
“What,” another soldier said, faltering. “What should we do?”
“I’m not sure what wecando,” Priya said, pitching her voice loud enough so that all the men could hear her, despite the tumult of noise. “I’ve been told armies usually have plans and strategies and this one certainly has some damn big elephants and we have—what, a few scythes and sabers? Me?” She gestured at herself helplessly. “We stay here and we wait and we see what happens, all right? You keep watch,” she ordered, gesturing at the outcrop of rocks. The man nodded and went where she’d told him to.
It only took a moment for her to realize her error. A split second for the yell of the man on the outcrop to ring out, and for her to turn.
Her own tent had a good view of the fortress city, but it was alsoexposedto it.
Fire shouldn’t have been able to move like that. But of course, the fire here wasn’t normal fire. She knew that.
Priya did not even have time to curse before a dozen arrows, tips aflame, cut through the air, right at them.
“Run!” she yelled at Sima. “Run, run away now!”
“Priya—”
“I can protect myself! You know that!”
She saw the fire hit one of her men, then two—saw Nitin fall.
Fire rippled through the air, leaping off arrows—not falling as it should have, as nature demanded, butflyingwith all a predatory bird’s deadly grace.
She raised the earth—trying to smother the flames with heavy soil. But the flames burst through it violently.
She only had a moment to fling herself to the side, but the surprise made her slower. Clumsier.
The fire caught her at the waist. Set her clothes alight. She dropped to the ground, rolling, but it burrowed into her skin with nails, with teeth. It was like an animal, a beast—something cruel and sentient, eating its way through her.
It reached for her magic andgrasped.
Her strength flickered. She tried to draw on her magic and felt it flutter within her, choked by fire. A stuttering fear ricocheted through her.
Her magic. Her magic was wrong.
