“That’s nice, but I wouldn’t mind having those ladies in there know that I was the one who made sure their borders and trade routes didn’t get disrupted,” she grumbled.
“Well, you won’t always have to be in the shadows. You don’t always have to play that role.”
“What?” Her head shot up. “That’s my whole life.”
“That has been your whole life. But what about in the future?”
“What about it?” Esha frowned. The Viper would always be needed to ensure peace.
“Have you considered a role at court? My council?” Harun said.
“I already turned you down. It’ll be easier for me to move around unnoticed during the Mela if I don’t need to be attached to your side as your adviser.”
“Like that would be so horrible,” he said.
She stuck her tongue out at him. “Anyway, I’m unofficially one of your advisers. And I don’t think I’d ever want to be on your council, trapped in a room, arguing over grain rations. I’d rather be in the field, ensuring we have those grain shipments for our people,” she said.
“Maybe not the council, then. But something—”
“Harun, I was trying to complain about how no one appreciates me,” Esha said. “Not take on another job.”
His voice softened. “I appreciate you.”
Her throat went dry as she tried to figure out how to reply.
Harun straightened in his seat, clearing his throat. “It’s why I feel that I should apologize to you, again.” Esha quirked an eyebrow at his tone.
“For what happened at the last donor function? I’m past it, Harun. I’ve done worse to you before,” she said with a wry smile.
“No, not that.” He winced. “Though that was wrong of me. I was upset, angry, and I should’ve acted with a clearer head. But the soldier . . .”
“Kunal.”
“Kunal,” Harun agreed, drawing out the syllables of the name. “I should’ve trusted you more on him. Moon Lord knows how he managed to get you back in time when you were so severely wounded, but he did. He brought you back. I’ll always be grateful.”
“Thank you,” she said. “Does this mean you’ll start being nicer to Kunal?”
Harun made a face. “I said I trusted him, I didn’t say I particularly liked him. But he’s doing us a huge favor by being our eyes and ears on the inside. Because of him we’re one step closer to finding Reha.”
“One step closer to bringing back balance.”
They exchanged a glance, and she knew he was thinking of the same thing as her—the first time they had decided to join the rebels and had made the same vow, under a banyan tree in Mathur.
“Who would’ve thought we’d end up as the leaders that day?” she asked. The night of their first mission and decision to change the world. “We were so young.”
“We weren’t young,” he said. “Our innocence left us both earlier than most. The gods decreed this was our path.”
There was something reassuring about the way Harun believed so firmly in his path—their path. After having grown up seeing his uncle betray his father, murder his aunt and cousins, and then bring a vibrant country to its knees, Harun had dedicated his life to Dharka.
His people before everything. Always.
It was why they had clicked. Her thirst for revenge had melded with his need to bring back balance, and together, they had dreamed of a new world.
And tomorrow, they’d arrive in Gwali. They’d be one step closer to ending all of this.
Finding Reha. Deposing Vardaan. Bringing back balance to the land.
“Do you think she’ll be happy to see me?” It took a few seconds for Esha to realize Harun was talking about his sister. “Or will she curse me for not looking harder for her? For abandoning her.”
“Harun.”
“Last time I saw her she was learning to play the veena.” He chuckled. “She had also just started climbing everything, and it was my job to peel her off trees and bring her safely down every day for dinner. I wonder if she’s the same or . . .”
His voice caught.
A wellspring of sadness rose in Esha, one that mingled with her own grief-tinged memories of the city they were traveling to.
“It’s been ten years, Esha,” he whispered, his hand going to the locket he always wore. It had a small oil painting of his family inside, and she’d never seen him without it.
“It’ll be as if nothing has changed,” Esha said. The future would be better once they had righted the wrongs of the past. It had to be.
He nodded slowly, setting his shoulders as they crested a tall hill. The moment had passed, and the prince had returned, steeling himself for the task ahead.
“Look,” he said. He grabbed her reins and tugged her horse into a canter, breaking off from the rest of the retinue. “We’re almost there.”
She pulled her horse to a stop next to his, looking out over the vista. Gwali was spread out below the cliff they were on, leagues in the distance but visible. It shone in the buttery yellow of the midday sun, which cast a glow around the pink sandstone of the palace in the center, the ocean past it.
Gwali. The city of the murderous king, usurper of Jansa. Also the city of ancient lore, the birthplace of Naria and the ancient games of the Sun Mela.
“Are you ready?” Harun turned his dark gaze on her. They were heading into an unknown, but she wouldn’t be alone this time. And soon, Kunal would be there too.
“As I’ll ever be.”
Kunal had to admit being back at the Fort wasn’t as easy as he had thought. He half expected General Panak to jump out at him, demanding to know his whereabouts, and he hated having to lie to Alok.
How did Esha do this so often? He felt like his insides were on fire, and yet his skin was clammy whenever he saw Alok. He’d taken to turning the opposite way the past few hours whenever he heard Alok walking toward him.
And now? He definitely needed to be left unseen.
He peeked his head around the corner, checking both directions before he walked over to the records room. It’d be his first stop, among many, at the Fort.
Kunal took care to ease the door shut—he knew it squeaked. A summer banished to the records room for unauthorized oil painting had led him to become very familiar with the archival system and how the Fort maintained its communications.
Not much had changed since that summer. The room was still musty, like old leather and seawater combined. He found the cabinet he was looking for and flipped through a stack of old notes neatly tied together.
The ones he’d be looking for would be on top. He nudged an older stack over, straining his neck to see over the organized piles.
There.
Kunal moved forward, sidling along the narrow gaps between the shelving. These notes were used to pass from transport to transport as record and confirmation, especially as squads were restationed and moved around. One authorized note would be sent out and the copy would be stored here. A process his uncle had started.
He found the one he was looking for, from only a few weeks ago, and flipped through until he found a note that was for a squad that had been restationed from the coast to the center of Jansa. And then another from the Hara Desert to Gwali. Then another from Faor to Gwali.