Brac checks the corridor. “Clear.”
I lead Jaya out of the cell. She does not glance back at her dead husband but pushes onward through the shadowy dungeons. Brac leads the way down the corridor to the entry.
“Son of a scorpion,” he says. “The guard is gone.”
I look up the vacant stairwell; it will not be empty for long. The alarm has been sounded. Tarek knows that we are here.
“The chapel has the closest hidden passageway,” Deven says. “We will follow the underground river out of Vanhi.”
We climb the stairs, my jittery body pumping with adrenaline. Deven leans heavily to the right, but he keeps up with us. All is quiet when we reach the stairwell landing. I peek around the corner, and Deven pulls me back. Half a breath later, an arrow pierces the wall behind my head.
Brac steps into the line of fire and flings his axes. He takes down the two archers, but the guards behind them charge forward. Brac gives Deven a maniacal grin. “Like old times,” he says.
“You’re as impulsive as ever,” Deven replies, raising his sword while holding his sore side with his free arm. He joins Brac, and the stampede of guards rushes upon us.
The brothers engage our attackers, dancing around each other’s blades. Deven falls behind the rhythm, and a guard plunges past him. The soldier lunges his sword at me. I twist around him, and he redirects, aiming for Jaya. I leap onto his back and clutch his face in my hands. Finding his well of light, I pull. The immediate surge of heat is invigorating. I hang on as he collapses in a heap. I look up from the floor and see Jaya gawking at me.
“I’m a Burner,” I explain.
She offers me a hand up. “That explains a lot.”
“Are you afraid?”
“Of you? Never.”
I squeeze her hand. She squeezes back but lets me go quickly. I do not take offense. I am adjusting to my new self too.
Brac darts around the corner and nearly trips on the unconscious guard. “You remembered to let go,” he says to me.
“I aim to be your best trainee.”
He smiles. “Shouldn’t be hard. You’re my only one.”
I look past him to Deven. His sword arm hangs so low that he is dragging the tip of the blade across the floor. He is worse off than before and rapidly losing endurance. I loop my arm around his waist, and we hasten to the chapel.
Corridor after corridor is empty. My tired breaths boom through my head, louder than our footsteps. The farther we go without more guards accosting us, the higher my anxiety soars. The palace is too calm, but we are so close. We have only to reach the passageway, and then we can flee to safety. I feel Deven’s strength of will in his every fatigued step. We are almost there.
Deven and I push through the chapel door and immediately halt. Tarek blocks the underground passageway. Before we can turn back, guards file in behind us, Manas near the front. Tarek must have known that we would come here; it is the passageway closest to the dungeons.
My powers flare, dispatching a pulse of heat. Deven weathers the heatwave beside me.
“Kali, don’t,” he says.
Tarek paces nearer, stopping out of reach. “Don’t what, Captain? Break into my dungeons and attempt to rescue you? This is oddly reminiscent of the night I caught my first wife running away. She too abandoned me for a man who stood behind her strength instead of his own.”
Deven tips up his chin. “Sometimes it takes more strength to step back than forward.”
“Does it?” Tarek steps sideways.
I tamp down my inner fire. My abilities are the only surprise I have left.
“This is what’s going to happen, Captain,” Tarek says. “Your cohorts will relinquish their weapons, and the viraji will come with me. My guards will escort you and this filthy bhuta traitor to the dungeons, and at dawn, you will both be stoned.”
“I have a better idea.” Brac swivels and slices into the guards with his axes. His impulsivity claims two victims. Jaya spins around and swipes a sword from a fallen guard, and together they confront the rest.
Tarek draws a haladie and swings at Deven. He blocks with his sword, wincing from the movement. Tarek jabs at him rapidly. Deven lags behind, parrying just fast enough to keep up. He is in no condition to battle. Any longer and he will slip up.
I grip the dagger. As soon as Deven steps out of range, I throw. The tip of the blade strikes the rajah in the leg. A poor hit. I aimed higher, for the rajah’s heart.
Tarek stumbles back, face paling. He wrenches the bloody blade from his thigh and gapes at the turquoise handle. “Yasmin,” he says.
Deven and I bolt for the tapestry, Deven yelling for his brother. Brac throws his hands out, and a wall of heat slaps the guards, sending them cringing back.
Jaya rushes for the hidden door after us, passing Tarek. The rajah raises his haladie and hurls it. The blade spins across the chapel after Jaya. Just when I think that she has escaped it, one side impales her back, and she crumples to the floor.
“No!” I yell, running back for her.
Brac backs up toward us and throws another blast of heat, pinning Tarek to the wall.
I fall to my knees beside my friend. Gods. The blade. I yank it out of her, and she screams. I toss the haladie aside and lay Jaya on her back. Her hand seeks mine. I hold it close to my chest.
“You will be all right. We’re almost out of here.”
Her hand faintly squeezes mine. I love you, it means. The movement, albeit small, encourages me. I can carry her out. I can find a healer or take her to the Aquifier. I can—
“Kali.” Jaya’s eyelashes flicker, and then her eyes go blank.
“Jaya?” I clutch her hand. She does not respond with her usual echo squeeze. She always answers. Always. “No, no, no.”
I listen for her pulse but hear only my own heart knocking against my ribs. Her warm blood spreads out beneath her like crimson wings, soaking through my skirt. Still I listen, seeking for some sign that she is with me. She cannot be gone. She would not leave me.
Brac tugs on me to go, but I cling to Jaya. He turns his back to me and throws another strong blast at the guards, holding Tarek at bay with the same storm of heat.
My mind tells me to run, to let Jaya go. I search her for signs of movement, each second an eternity packed with frantic prayers and urgent pleas. What I find strips away all layers of my hope. No breath. No heartbeat. No life.
She is gone.
Brac grabs me, and I let go of Jaya’s limp hand. He drags me after Deven through the doorway and into the passageway. I yank myself from his hold and look back at the tapestry. Sobs wrench from my chest.
I fall to my knees with an enraged cry and throw my hands out. A heatwave flies off my glowing fingers, and a hot wind ravages the tapestry, igniting it in a blinding blast of flames. I cringe away to protect my face, and when I look back again, the blazing doorway is gone. Black char stains the bricks, and the air hints of singed hair and burning dust.
The fire starts to die, and with it, my inner flame shrinks to a faint flicker. Rajah Tarek will think that Brac let loose the heatwave. But I want Tarek to know that I did it. I want him to fear me.
Deven lifts me to my feet, but I pull away from him, my tear-filled eyes burning from the clearing smoke. On the other side of the doorway, the rajah shouts for his guards to follow us. Fury fires through my veins. Tarek must pay.
“Kali,” says Deven, “we have to go.”
His face comes into focus, the bloodied mess that once was his beautiful jaw and lips. I cannot risk his life again. Someday I will go for Tarek’s throat. Someday I will make him hurt. Someday, but not today.
I run with Brac and Deven down the passageway. My grief stretches to new heights as we travel away from the hidden door, away from the chapel, away from Jaya. Without a torch, the dark is darker and the water is louder, rushing through my ears like a midnight rainstorm. Deven latches on to me for balance, and I stick to his side, relying on his fortitude as much as he does mine. He is propped heavier against me the farther and faster we walk.
Somewhere in the blackness behind us, footsteps pound. Little spots approach—torches.
We dash out of the tunnel into a dim cavern. Brac runs down an incline toward the blue-black river gushing below. Deven and I try to match his pace, but we lose our footing. We trip over each other and tumble to the bottom of the slope, shy of the riverbank.
Brac stands knee-deep in the rushing water. “Run!”
Soldiers spill out of the passage above us. The archers line up and arm their bows. I hold Deven up, and we stagger for the river; it will take us downstream, a faster escape than on foot. A few steps later, Deven jerks against me and collapses. I stumble under his weight and take some of the impact of his fall. My hand comes away slick with blood.
“Good gods,” I breathe. An arrow is lodged in Deven’s shoulder, the serrated tip burrowed deep in his flesh.
His brow scrunches in pain. “Kali, I’m done.”
“No!” My quaking fingers grasp his chest. “You have to get up.”
He rolls onto his side, blood flowing down his back. “Leave me.”
His order triggers a flash of panic. “No. I cannot do this without you.”
“You can do anything you set your heart on.” He pushes me.
More guards rush out of the tunnel, armed with bows and arrows. Tarek runs behind them, yelling, “Stop them!”
The archers release a swarm of arrows, spearing the muddy ground and nearly clipping my foot. I grab Deven’s ankles and drag him, still on his side, down to the mucky riverbank. He groans and tells me to stop. I ignore him and the trail of fresh blood he leaves behind.
Brac sloshes back to help. He grips Deven under the arms, and I pull his legs. Cool water laps over him, but it is not deep enough. Soldiers’ steps thunder behind us.
I press my lips to Deven’s and send up a quick Prayer of Protection. “Let the sky lead you, the land ground you, the fire cleanse you, and the water feed you.”
He murmurs something, but I cannot make it out.
“I will follow you,” I say, and with one final push, I shove Deven into the river. Brac catches him, holding both their heads above the surface, and drags him into the current. The fast-moving water picks them up and sweeps them along.