Then I realized what it was: The adaiman were missing. None of the little birds were nesting in the grass or chirping near the cave’s entrance. In fact, for the first time, none of my friends had greeted me on my journey up the mountain.
Thevan didn’t need to know that, though.
“It’s always glowing.” I shrugged. There was a lot about Matanta’s cave that Thevan didn’t need to know. “Whenever he is there, at least.”
“There’s danger here.” Thevan looked from the cave to me with pursed lips; then he nodded to himself and unsheathed his sword. “I can’t explain it, but it’s in the air. I understand you think this is necessary, but at least let me go with you.”
“Absolutely not.” I pulled him back. “I may not know much about asking a question, but I am quite certain that you coming along will get both of us killed. Especially if you keep brandishing your blade. Put it away and wait until I’m done. If I’m not back by sunrise, go to the fort and protect the rajkumari. If I’m not back in seven days, declare her the rani of Ullal.”
My general crossed his arms and placed himself between me and the cave’s entrance.
I mirrored his body language and stood tall. “Remember your oath to Ullal?—to my daughter. You will not fail us now.”
He glared at me, but eventually he dropped his arms to his sides and nodded his acceptance. “I’ll wait under the trees with the purple flowers.”
Thevan’s eyes searched mine for reassurance.
“I’ll find you there.” I turned away before he could see my apprehension.
The green glow of the cave felt cold, as if the light were trying to push me away, but I stepped into the opening anyway.
I gasped.
Matanta was there, standing tall, with his vibrating wings extended to either side, filling the chamber with a pulsing light.
I’d hoped that my memories of his size were exaggerated?—that they were the warped recollections of a child?—but a shiver ran down my spine as I realized Matanta was even larger than I remembered. I clenched my fists at my sides and refused to cower. This was exactly what had happened the first time I had met him, and I didn’t run then. I refused to be made a coward by my five-year-old self, so I stood perfectly straight and stared up at his massive jaws, even though the heat from his breath pricked my face.
“Good evening, Matanta.” My voice was higher than I wanted, but at least it did not waver.
“You have grown, little one.” His voice boomed through the cave, growing in its echoing chamber. “And you have finally come with a question.”
“Yes.” There was no point in pretending otherwise. My sweat made my fists feel slick.
“Hm.” He tipped his head down and studied me through his big yellow eyes. Each one was bigger than my hands, and they were streaked with threads of gold. “You do not pray to the Spirits, yet you have come with a question for them.”
“I do not pray because I imagine the Spirits have many things to do other than listen to me.” I paused before finally admitting what I had avoided saying to anyone else. “I have come here with a question because I don’t know what else to do.”
Matanta looked straight again, keeping his face impassive. “It is as it always was.”
“Please.” I stepped closer again, reaching out a hand but then pulling it back. At this moment, we were not friends. He was the guardian of the Spirits, and I was here to disturb them. “Let me ask a question.”
“I cannot stop you.” The muscles in his shoulders stiffened, and his wings stopped vibrating. He looked down at me again, making sure to find my eyes. “But I must treat you no differently than anyone else. Your fate will be in the hands of the Spirits, and they owe me no favors.”
He lowered his wings and stepped aside. For the first time, I peered farther into the cave. I stumbled back at the sight of a pile of bones that covered the entirety of the back wall. Some were yellowed and desiccated by the tides of time, and some still had dried pieces of flesh clinging to them. The bones were jumbled together in a tangled mess?—arms crossing over toes, skulls balancing on rib cages?—but they were unified by a defining feature: Every single one was covered with deep slashes.
“You must choose your question carefully, little one.” His voice was rougher than usual, and the gold in his eyes was almost luminous.
“I understand.” Just speaking the words took all my courage as I stood in front of a paw so big that one flick of its claws would steal my last breath. “But I must ask.”
With a heavy sigh, Matanta stood straight again. He spread his wings high and wide, vibrating them as he had done before, so the light in the cave pulsed. “I will hear your question, and the Spirits will judge its worth.”
Matanta’s booming voice was so loud it made my ears hurt, but I stood firm.
I cleared my throat. “How do I best serve my people?”
A thunderclap shook the cave, sending pebbles tumbling down the walls as Matanta’s color changed from deep green to the color of unripe limes. His wings became a blur, and his fur rippled. Matanta’s ears were cocked open, and he lifted off the ground, going higher and higher until I could crawl under him if I wanted to.
I didn’t want to.
