“Watch your head,” I say.
She leans against me, her soft breath tingling my neck. A shiver dances down my spine. I don’t know why I have such a strong reaction, but I hold her closer as I crouch and shift to enter the carriage. I place her on the plush blue cushion and suddenly, just like that, I’m not touching her anymore. The humid summer air strikes me—it’s freezing.
“I’ll be right back.”
She nods, then seems to register something and grabs my arm as I move away. “The boy, please. Make sure he doesn’t run. Bring him here.”
I bend forward. “He’s obviously not your brother. So, who is he to you?”
She shrugs. “A thief.”
What? I know my surprise shines through the mask of calm I’m trying to wear. But who can blame me? This is more than I anticipated. The academy didn’t provide training on beautiful girls who run toward enormous elephants to save criminals.
“All right,” I answer, schooling my features. It’s one thing I can honestly say I did have daily practice in at the academy.
“Thank you,” she says, before leaning forward to hold her head in her hands.
Once I’m sure she’s not going to say anything else I ease out of the carriage. Kalyan frowns as he talks to the boy. Kalyan frowning? Never a good sign. When my friend spots me, he walks over, leaving the kid with Samik.
“Jatin, I think the boy is a thief and the girl was running after him to get back what he stole.”
“Yeah, I know. And this is what he took.” I dig the orb from my pocket and hold it up.
“Simple red magic?”
“No, it’s firelight.”
“As in Lady Adraa’s invention?” Kalyan inspects it. “Doesn’t look like much to me. Maybe a little redder than normal fire.”
“The boy said it’s firelight. Now I want answers. Those two have piqued my interest.”
“That could be their plan, to get close to the maharaja or to you.”
Or this could be orchestrated by my father: a test to prove myself before I reenter the ice door. Doubtful, but the thought hovers, overbearing and cloudy. “I don’t think so,” I finally answer.
Kalyan shakes his head. “She seems too pretty and too powerful just to be some girl on the street. I don’t know if you saw it, but she was glowing with magic; had to be, to run that fast.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
“You mean take my chances. I’m not letting them know who the real raja is now.”
I pat Kalyan on the shoulder. “Thank you.”
I walk over and squat next to the boy so he and I are eye level. Equals. “Hey, so if you don’t mind coming with us, we want to ask you—”
“No.” The boy’s tone is firm, but his eyes dart sideways first, then everywhere. He’s looking for escape, no doubt.
“It’s not for me. She saved your life. You owe her.”
“She has the firelight back. Let me go.” Blood, whatever I say next will sound like a kidnapping. I guess that is what I’m doing, in a roundabout way. Maybe this is a test. You’re going to take a kid in for interrogation because one of the most beautiful girls you have ever seen wants you to?
My voice hardens and gets gruff, to unnerve the boy. “Get in the carriage.” Well…I’m going to fail this test.
“Let’s get going, Samik,” I say.
The boy slips inside the carriage and I follow, Kalyan right behind me. The coach totters into motion. While the cushions aren’t hard, the boy acts as if I’ve forced him onto live coals. One day I will be conducting and rectifying grievances. It seems fitting that as soon as I begin my journey home I have to deal with things of this nature.
I turn my attention back to the girl, who’s still bent over. She clenches her left hand. The little part of her Touch I can see on her left wrist glows a faint red. Magic must be returning to her. I watch intently, but it’s Kalyan who blurts out the question that loiters on the tip on my tongue.
“How is that possible? You were burned out three minutes ago.” He may be suspicious, but I’m fascinated.
“I’m used to it,” she murmurs, without looking Kalyan in the eye. She is obviously uncomfortable in Kalyan’s presence, but of course that’s because she thinks he is a raja. This moment perfectly encapsulates my hatred for my title. The slight dread that stiffens her spine irritates me and makes me restless.
“So, you always go around throwing yourself in front of carriages?” I ask.
She directs her gaze at me. As a guard I’m safe. “Not on a daily basis.” Her expression is deadly straight; no wrinkle to let me in on the joke, just dirt and dust. I can read the beauty of her features, that part’s easy. Reading her? This might be a long ride.
The girl twists toward the child. “Tell me why you stole the firelight.”
He squirms, looking like he wants to drift into the woodwork. “Because Mom keeps talking about them, how we could heat the stove quicker or light the porch. But they’re hard to find and too expensive. I didn’t think you would miss one when you had so many.” He pauses, wringing his hands. “Please, don’t tell on me.”
“Expensive! They’re three coppers. Could your mom not afford that?”
Three coppers is extremely cheap. A loaf of bread averages about fifty or so in this part of the world.
The boy looks at her strangely. “Three coppers? Firelight is five silvers.”
“What the blood?” The girl punches the seat cushion. I’ve never heard a witch curse so bluntly. I have to cough to conceal a laugh.
“Who sets the price?” Kalyan interrupts.
The girl stares at Kalyan, willing him to look at her. “Your fiancé,” she answers slowly.
The mere mention of Adraa charges the air. And then, suddenly, I’m watching a staring contest unfold before me. Kalyan is a master of solemn looks and quiet contemplation. If either of them would turn to look at me, though, they’d notice the sweat and the anxiety of homecoming getting the best of me. I feel for the firelight in my pocket. Adraa’s magic. Would this be news to her?
As I predicted, the girl breaks first and refocuses on the boy. “It’s five silvers in all of Belwar?” she asks.
He shrugs. “I’m not allowed to go beyond the central square,” he says like it’s obvious information and we should be ashamed of our interrogation tactics.