Nallini looked at me with unblinking, clear eyes, awaiting my decision.
It was true that we knew little of her before she came to us, but she’d helped us far more than she needed to, really. Not to mention the fact that she still hadn’t given Vishwajeet enough information for him to send the rest of her things, let alone a bed.
“If Nallini wants a horse, she may have one,” I said.
Nallini maintained her mask of calm, but her shoulders relaxed as she exhaled. “I would like to come.”
I raised my hand when Thevan opened his mouth to object. He fell silent, and I twisted to show Parushi the same gesture because it was clear she had a wicked remark hiding behind her triumphant smile.
“This is not the time to argue or gloat.” I looked from Thevan to Parushi and shot my words straight at them. A hint of pink appeared on both their cheeks?—I hadn’t missed my marks. “We need to pack and prepare to leave. Parushi, tend to the horses. Nallini, pack for yourself and Parushi. Tara, I’ll need your help. Thevan, keep guard... and make sure we have enough weapons ready for our journey home.”
Warmth filled me as I spoke my last word. It dawned upon me that I had already spent my last night in this infernally shining palace with its smooth white walls and gilded words with hidden barbs. No more hiding away in my chambers and wondering who was watching my every move. No more trying to make myself small to fit into the mold they’d made for me. No more acceptance of a fate that made me hate the very skin I lived in.
I was going home.
Chapter 40
It drizzled at the beginning of our journey, but the rain let up as the daylight faded, leaving us in a purple haze that colored everyone and everything in indigo shadows as we guided our horses along the Gurupura River. Stars tried to shine through the remaining daylight, but they struggled. Still, they burned in anticipation of the moment they could light the sky.
In the town ahead, people had already begun to light their lamps and torches. The flames danced and flickered, casting a warm yellow glow in the blue hues of nightfall. Parushi and Thevan insisted that we stop and buy some torches so we could keep riding through the night. They also, conveniently, made sure I found my way to a fire in the village’s temple.
The firepit was set in the middle of the temple’s courtyard, which was empty aside from me, Tara, and Nallini. At the far end of the courtyard, a small set of steps led to a long wooden altar. Through the flames, I could see a row of clay bowls filled with different types of incense set on a small table to the side of the altar. My feet were drawn toward them, and I followed. The incense came in many different lengths and widths, but a rough bowl at the end caught my attention. I lifted one of the small sticks and gently inhaled.
Orange. For the strength to fight and the courage to do it with honor.
Without thinking, I lit it, placed it at the altar, and fell to my knees. I didn’t know what to expect?—I certainly wasn’t about to pray to the Spirits that had deserted me in Banghervari?—but for a moment, my thoughts were blessedly quiet. There was a deep nothing, just black silence and utter calm. Was this what Ektha felt when she prayed? This sense of peace?
There was a flash behind my eyelids, and a giant green lion’s face exploded into my mind’s eye.
“Matanta!” My eyes snapped open.
Nallini and Tara, who were kneeling next to me, stopped praying and stared.
“Sorry,” I said. “I just... I just remembered something I need to do. We should leave. I’m sure Parushi and Thevan will be done soon.”
Tara stood up immediately, but Nallini took a few moments to finish her prayer. They helped me to my feet, and we left the temple, our sticks of incense sending up swirls of smoke behind us.
Parushi and Thevan approached us as we left the courtyard. His eyebrows drew together as he stared at me worriedly through the flickering torchlight. I tried to smile, but he saw right through me. I should have known better than to try to pretend with Thevan. I’d gotten into the habit of acting in Banghervari, but I’d be happy to shed it when I returned to Ullal.
“Sorry it took so long,” Parushi said. “They’ve run out of torches and haven’t had a chance to make more.”
“We bought the few torches they had on hand as well as some of their coconut leaves.” Thevan gestured to the long packs the horses carried. “We can make more as we ride. It’s either that or we stay the night.”
I hated the thought of delaying our journey. “No, we leave now. We can take turns wrapping torches as we ride. We should be able to cross the river into Ullal at dawn.”
Everyone seemed relieved by my decision, and they mounted their horses. I looked for Maraan’s black coat for a moment before remembering that he wasn’t here. And neither was Chaaya. Both had made the journey to Banghervari with me but would never be able to return home.
My heart pounded, ripping open the wounds I’d forced to scar so quickly. I froze as I fought to push the emotions back down to a place where they were hidden?—where I wouldn’t have to feel them in every breath and see my memories behind every blink?—but they refused to be contained.
A heavy hand rested on my shoulder. I looked up and saw Thevan’s black eyes staring down at me. He had dismounted, and he handed me the reins to Aru’s horse. I gripped them reflexively but didn’t move otherwise.
“We cannot dwell.” His voice was rough?—almost gruff?—but there was an undeniable warmth in his truth. “We are warriors; our sorrows must harden our blades. The best way to avenge them is to keep going forward and never stop fighting.”
He withdrew his hand from my shoulder with a jerk, as if he’d forgotten it was resting there, leaving me cold. I stared at him, reins in hand, and tried to find words that didn’t die on my tongue.
Parushi cleared her throat from atop her horse. She and Tara were looking away pointedly, and apparently Parushi was trying to get Nallini to do the same. Nallini’s eyes widened as she realized she was staring, and she developed a keen curiosity in the dried coconut leaves hanging beside her.
I blushed and stepped away from Thevan. He mounted his horse as Aru’s white stallion leaned into my palm. The warhorse nickered softly as I scratched his head before climbing onto his back.
