I knew this face. This was the guard that had given me his set of arrows when I had gone to fight the Porcugi. And left him. With Ektha.
Parushi’s gasp as she checked the other body confirmed what I’d feared. I ran to her, my feet completely unable to keep pace with my thoughts.
“Where is Ektha?” Parushi asked. “Where is the last guard?”
The grass was flattened and trampled in many directions, but I saw an undulating path heading for the gardens.
I didn’t speak as I ran to the gardens’ entrance. Ektha must not have had much time. The other four guards probably fought off the Porcugi while she ran away. She would have hidden, and with the trumpets blaring so much, she’d probably decided to stay there until it was safe to come out. I just needed to find her now.
The hedge on either side of the garden lay in disarray, and the entry arch was cracked. I dashed inside and found the body of the last guard, her face frozen in frenzied determination. Broken vegetation was strewn everywhere, and bright pink and orange petals were scattered in the mud, decorating the disarray. I was about to follow the garden path deeper when my heart pulled me back outside again.
I paused at the hedges lining the garden wall. If there was little time, Ektha would have found the nearest hiding spot. Perhaps the guard had gone into the gardens as a distraction.
I fell to my hands and knees and peered between the battered hedge’s trunks and the garden wall. There was enough room for a person to squeeze into that space. I pushed myself into it and slid forward on the ground, ignoring the branches embedding themselves in my curls in an unsightly crown. Sunlight came down only in slivers, making it oddly dark despite the time of day.
Branches were broken and the earth was pushed into unnatural mounds in front of me. Ektha had definitely been here.
I called out to the guards. “Someone was here?—I can see tracks. Follow alongside me and I’ll tell you when I’ve found her.”
“I’ll go from the other side,” Parushi said.
Twigs caught in my clothes as they pricked and scraped my back, and it became harder to push myself forward in the smaller space. Ektha had always been more petite than me, though. She could have squeezed farther.
So I did too.
Sunlight streamed through the branches just ahead, and I caught a glimpse of toes and the crimson hem of Ektha’s sari.
“Ektha!” I called out. “I’m here!”
I could barely move in the small space, but I used my toes to keep pushing forward. I shook a few nearby branches as I continued to talk to her. “It’s okay. I’m here. Parushi is too. We’ll cut these stupid bushes and get out. The battle should be over soon, since Lakshmappa sent his soldiers.”
The guards began to talk excitedly from the other side of the bushes, so I couldn’t hear Ektha’s response.
“You won’t let me hear the end of that, I’m sure, but let’s get out of here first.” I extended my arm forward and tugged her red sari, but she didn’t react. I touched her foot?—she was so cold?—but she didn’t move, so I grabbed her ankle and tried to drag her toward me.
My grip slipped down her wet foot, and my hand scraped against the brush above us. I cried out in surprise as a sharp branch cut through my skin, but Ektha still didn’t move. My pulse echoed from my fingertips to my throat. Ever since we were children, Ektha had always rushed to my side any time I was hurt. Even back when Ektha used to train with us, Jagath had never let us practice side by side because Ektha would drop whatever she was doing if she saw me in pain.
But now she didn’t move.
I pulled my hand back and crossed it into a narrow shaft of sunlight. My breaths became thick and heavy before seeing what I already knew was there: Bright red blood streaked across my fingers and palm, staining it so deeply I was sure it would never come out.
Ektha had worn a pale blue sari today.
The little girlwith big brown eyes could hardly see past her tears as she pushed her way through the trees.Not that it mattered at this time of night. Shadows had consumed the forest, and only a few shafts of moonlight streamed through the dense, leafy treetops.
Wind whipped through the branches and brush, making them slap Abbakka’s arms, face, and legs. Welts adorned her cheeks and limbs, and her sweat and tears mixed together on her face, bedecking her with her desperation. As she made her way up the mountain, the little girl’s black salwar kameez clung to her tiny body, which was dwarfed by her surroundings in every way except in spirit.
When a branch she tried to push away snapped back and left a red streak across her left eyelid, Abbakka paused. She looked up as she squeezed her mother’s silver payal bells, which she carried in her left hand. Matanta’s cave loomed high above her.
The little girl deflated as she exhaled. The mountainside itself seemed to be fighting against her, but she dared not pray to ask the Spirits for help. She would need all their favor later.
In an instant, the forest went quiet. The little girl with big brown eyes froze. She stood with her knees bent and weight forward, her fingertips a hair’s breadth from the small dagger she carried. Something had scared the entire forest into silence.
A flash of green shot toward Abbakka and landed in front of her right foot. She stepped back and then smiled as she recognized the little bird. The adaiman puffed up and hopped closer to her, chatting with its trills.
“Hello, my friend.” The little girl kept her voice quiet so the forest wouldn’t be disturbed.
The adaiman had no such inhibitions. It continued to chirrup at her as it hopped in front of her toes, a flashing blur of glowing green feathers. Another two birds came toward them and joined the first bird in its interrogation, chirping incessantly as they cocked their heads. One of them flew up and suspended itself in front of Abbakka’s face. It kept looking from her to its companions. When the little girl didn’t move, it landed on her hair.
