Eshana nods. “Anjali will be in the final three.”

My insides roll like windswept sand dunes. I try not to envision Anjali’s chakrams amputating my limbs.

Parisa sends me a heartening smile. “Don’t let it bother you. Tarek could have chosen any of his courtesans to wed him, but he didn’t want them as his rani. He wants you.”

If only that were the comfort she means it to be.

Eshana runs her fingers absentmindedly through her hair. “What skill are you showing, Kalinda?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Eshana exchanges a look of consternation with Parisa. “Whatever you do, it ought to be flashy. Lakia opted to perform before you.”

Parisa slips the last of her ice down her shirt. “Lakia loves dramatics.”

Lakia plays mind games. I will not let her intimidate me.

My gaze wanders to the raised platform at the center of the terrace, where Lakia sits on her throne beside Tarek. The rajah is watching me. His gaze slides down to my throat, and he smiles. I did not want to wear Yasmin’s necklace today, but Asha insisted. Considering Lakia’s deep scowl, I am glad I did. Mind games can go both directions.

“Kalinda?” Shyla comes through the crowd holding a bundled infant. “We came to wish you luck.” She leans toward us, and I look into her newborn’s sleeping face.

“She’s tiny,” Parisa says.

“What’s her name?” asks Eshana.

“Rehan, after my mother.” Shyla offers the child to me. “Would you like to hold her?”

“I shouldn’t.” I have never held a baby before; my fevers prevented me from working in the temple nurseries. Rehan is so little and fragile that I would not know what to do with her. “She’s beautiful. Tarek must be proud.”

“He doesn’t meet his children until they’re older.” Shyla glances up at her husband on the podium and lowers her voice. “He’s still distraught over losing his firstborn.”

Parisa and Eshana nod in unison. I can understand how losing a child would have wounded Tarek, but for him to not want to meet his newborn is unfathomable. I cannot resist running my finger over his daughter’s fuzzy dark hair.

“We should return to the nursery.” Shyla smiles. “Good luck, Kalinda.”

“Thank you.” I stroke Rehan’s soft head once more, and they disappear into the audience.

Parisa’s eyes go wide. “Hurry this way.” She ducks her head and links arms with Eshana and me, dragging us in the opposite direction from the place where she was looking. “General Gautam is over there. Last time we spoke, he tried to touch me.”

I twist my head to see the general, but we lose him in the crowd.

“Gautam is terrible,” says Eshana. “I would loathe to be his—Kalinda, your guard is looking for you.”

Deven starts to cross the covered terrace. He is supposed to wait outside the tents with the other guards. I try to repel him with an off-putting glower, but he keeps coming. What has come over him? The rajah could see him. I glance up at Tarek to see if he is still keeping an eye on me, and the gong sounds for quiet. All look to the rajah, rising from his throne.

“A treasure was returned to me this morning.” Tarek motions before us, and the crowd swivels to face the clearing. Two soldiers drag out a filthy woman and shove her to her knees on the grass. Whispers spread across the tent like a sudden wind. “My dear wife Taline has been found. Unfortunately, the guard she ran away with did not survive his capture.”

His contrived regret hardens my jaw.

Deven reaches me and speaks low in my ear. “We have to talk.”

“Not now.” He could not have chosen a worse time. We are surrounded by people, the rajah is watching me, and the reappearance of the runaway rani tells me something horrible is about to happen.

Lakia strolls out of the warm-up tent in the clearing, carrying an urumi.

“My kindred has requested that she carry out Taline’s penalty as a demonstration of her skill,” Tarek continues.

Great Anu, they are going to discipline the woman here.

“How many lashes, my kindred?” Tarek calls over the audience.

Lakia circles the woman, blades trailing in the grass like silver asps. “One for each day she was missing.”

“Husband, please forgive me,” Taline cries. “I will be loyal. I will obey.”

Tarek speaks over her, his hard eyes glinting. “How many days was she gone, Kindred?”

“Thirty-five.”

Bile scalds my windpipe. The urumi will tear Taline apart long before she is lashed that many times. This is brutality beyond retribution. Rajah Tarek wants to make an example out of her, but she is not his enemy; she is his wife. Taline deserves more respect than to be used as an exhibit. The rajah should end her mercifully, with a clean kill.

“Deven, we have to stop this,” I whisper.

He curls his fingers around my elbow, holding me in place. “There’s nothing you can do.”

Lakia halts behind the sobbing woman. “Shall we count with the gong?” She lifts the urumi, and the servant manning the gong raises the mallet.

I yank myself from Deven’s grasp and shove through the bystanders to the terrace balcony. “Is this the best you can do?” I say.

Lakia looks up at me, the urumi outstretched.

“Taline’s a large target,” I say, “and the urumi has so many blades. This won’t be much of a show of your skill.”

Lakia lowers the urumi. “I would like to see how you fare against the urumi, Viraji.”

“Do you propose a better demonstration, my champion?” Tarek calls from his throne.

I turn to him, fingers quivering against my sides. “I do, Your Majesty. A skill competition between the kindred and myself.”

Benefactors mumble and nod in appreciation. The ranis and courtesans whisper their surprise. Deven shakes his head to end this. I ball my trembling fingers into fists. I will not allow Lakia to treat this rani like a stuffed dummy.

Rajah Tarek considers me with a probing stare. He must realize that I am delaying Taline’s death and preserving what dignity she has left. But this is a diversion. Once I finish competing with Lakia, skill demonstrations will be over, and I will plead with the rajah on Taline’s behalf for a merciful, private death befitting her station.

“By all means.” Tarek sweeps his arm to push me along. “Present your challenge.”

I signal Asha over from the warm-up tent, where she waits. She lugs a crate of clinking glass orbs into the garden, a group of serving women behind her. I recognize them as the ones who bring my tub and bathwater.

“Glass orbs?” Lakia sneers. “You challenge me with decorations?”

Nervous chuckles sound from the crowd.

“They’re small and light.” I descend the steps to the lower garden. “A much more difficult target than a shackled prisoner.” Taline cries softly on the ground. Gods, she looks about my age. I stand between her and Lakia, my heart drumming so hard that I fear it will fracture a rib. “Not up to the task?”

Lakia pets the urumi handle. “Tell me the terms.”

“At the signal of the gong, the servants will throw the glass orbs and we will have thirty seconds to shatter as many as we can. Two guards will keep count of our felled targets. Whoever breaks the most wins.” I motion to Asha to open the crate and pass out the glass orbs to the throwers. The servants fill their arms with them. Asha came prepared with more than enough.

Lakia’s gaze dashes to the captivated crowd and then narrows on me. “Done, but I choose the guards.”

I hide a relieved exhalation. Her pride is dependable; I will commend her for that.

The soldiers cart Taline to the perimeter of the clearing. Lakia assigns two guards to keep count and then faces the wide clearing with the urumi. I stand down the way from her and take my slingshot out of my pocket.

Mocking laughter spills out behind me. I stand tall, gaze forward. I will display the skill that best represents me. I am certain that is what the land-goddess would advise me to do.

“Is that your weapon of choice, my champion?” Tarek’s amusement is wearing thin.

“It is.” I seek his patience with a slender smile. “You won’t be disappointed.”

Tarek wags a finger. “Continue.”

“Your pathetic attempt to humiliate me will fail,” Lakia says under her breath.

I see Taline tremble from the corner of my eye. The kindred has no idea of my intent.

I fill my fist with firing stones from my pouch. Asha and the other servants stand off to my right and left, ready to fling the colorful glass orbs across the clearing. I load my slingshot with the first firing stone and draw back. Ki, let my aim be true.

The gong rings, and the sand timer turns.

Servants hurl the glass orbs into the air. Lakia lashes out. The urumi’s dozens of blades shatter three orbs from the sky before they soar free. I shoot a twinkling orb arcing away. The ball bursts, and glass rains down like frozen tears.

I reload with the stones amassed in my palm and train my sight on another orb, farther out. I release, shattering another target. The servants shield their faces upon throwing orb after orb, Lakia striking down the ones close to her. I release, reload, and shoot. Inhale and load. Exhale and fire. Vibrant shards and fine dust litter the grass with glittering pieces. Seconds drain away in the crack of the urumi, explosion of glass, and snap of my slingshot.

The gong rings, signaling the end of our time.

Lakia scans the area around her. “How many?”

Her guard counts her broken targets. “The kindred brought down eighteen!”

“How many for the viraji?” Tarek asks, sitting forward on his throne. My range was farther with the slingshot. Whereas Lakia had to break the orbs before they spun away, I shot them down farther out.

The audience stays quiet for the second guard to answer. “The viraji felled twenty-one!”

Tarek releases a roar of triumph over the audience’s applause. “Bring the viraji here!”