Chapter 34
THIRTY-FOUR
Rabin soared over the palace, circling the sky as Zarya and Row clung to his back. Screams floated up from below as the city ground to a stop at the sight of the monster flying overhead. The people of Dharati were largely ignorant of his form—that night he’d saved Zarya from the kala-hamsa was one of the few times he’d transformed within the city walls, and he knew the initial sight was always a little overwhelming.
He banked left, looping around the palace, reminding Vikram and his father, wherever the bastard was at that moment, they could never touch him up here. No matter how much they might hate him, in the sky, he was free. In the sky, he was home.
“Rabin!” Zarya screamed. “Get Koura!”
Rabin spied the healer weaving through the trees, trying to find an open spot where Rabin could pick him up. They couldn’t risk stopping or spending even a moment on the ground. Daragaab’s army was, no doubt, already headed this way.
Rabin dove, swooping towards Koura and brushing the ground. He snatched Koura in his talons before lunging into the air again.
Then, just for good measure, he took another wide circle around Dharati, threw his head back, and roared before pointing west and towards Gi’ana.
Zarya clung to Rabin as he banked left and then right through the air. Once they cleared the sight of Daragaab, Rabin landed so Koura could climb onto his back. After they were all seated again and as comfortable as someone could be in this position, they took off, flying towards Ishaan and the next battle that awaited them.
Zarya thought of the notebook in her pocket, despairing she hadn’t been able to copy the entire text and hoping what she had was enough. If they hadn’t discovered anything new, they would have stoked Vikram’s ire, and this entire mission would have been for nothing. Now he would be even angrier, and they could never return to Daragaab for help. She only wished she could have seen Amrita again.
She peered over her shoulder at Row and Koura, who both sat low, clinging to Rabin. This certainly wasn’t what she had planned, but neither could remain in Daragaab, and she was responsible for that. So as much as she hadn’t wanted Row joining her in Ishaan, she had little choice.
It was warmer than the last time Zarya had ridden on Rabin, and she closed her eyes, savoring the cool air against her warm cheeks. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been sweating with nerves and the chase through the palace.
Nothing had gone as planned.
They swooped over the countryside, the Pathara Vala Mountains spreading across the northern horizon. Zarya squinted as she peered into their depths, imagining the range of mountains circling Andhera. She’d casually done some reading on the northern kingdom, discovering it was very remote, bordered by snow and trees and uncrossable mountain paths.
Zarya thought about this place that was a part of her more times than she could count. What if Abishek wasn’t who Row claimed? What if Rabin was right about him? No one would replace the role Row had played in her life, but something about the man with whom she shared blood made something knot at the back of her throat.
After a few hours, Rabin lost altitude, and Zarya looked ahead to the walls of Ishaan, looming far in the distance. They’d crossed into Gi’ana and the miles of farmland and forest surrounding the city.
Rabin tipped forward, aiming for the earth before he landed with a gentle thump. Zarya and the others slid off his back before he dissolved into a puff of smoke, returning to his rakshasa form.
“We’ll have to walk,” he said. “I don’t want to attract attention by flying too close.”
“It’s not a problem,” Koura said while he stared up at the sky as if searching for meaning in the dimming stars. Zarya was exhausted but kept her complaints to herself as they trudged through the forest.
As they marched in single file down a narrow path, she kept an eye out for that black rot she’d encountered earlier. The voices and visions haunted her every time she closed her eyes. She thought of the flash that had signaled the presence of a demon, but surely if any were lingering around Ishaan, someone would have raised an alert by now?
Nevertheless, the guilt of harboring this secret nagged at her thoughts.
She couldn’t disquiet the insistent voice suggesting that Abishek might be the only one who could offer the answers she sought. He did not fear the darkness. He embraced it. Welcomed it. He was like her. Maybe he’d understand this strange thing happening to her. More importantly, maybe he would know what to do about it.
As they continued down the path, she made out the shadow of blackened leaves in the distance. If she hadn’t been searching for it, it would have been easy to dismiss them as nothing but a trick of the light, but Zarya knew what she saw.
She stumbled over a root in her distraction, catching herself against a tree.
“Zarya?” came two voices—Row and Rabin—both of them approaching before they glared at one another.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Just a little tired. It’s been a long night.”
“I can carry you,” Rabin said, and Zarya held up a hand.
“Don’t you dare. We’re almost there.”
She rallied herself and pushed off the tree, stomping along the path.
When they entered Ishaan, the city was already rising for the day. The smells of fresh baking wafted along the streets, and dozens of merchants were already setting up their wares for the market.
They skirted past the activity, making their way through the city, passing walls plastered with posters, all depicting the supposed likeness of Yasen and Zarya, offering even more money for their whereabouts. It spoke to the desperation of the Madans and their continued failure in rooting out the resistance.
Row stopped and studied the papers, rubbing his chin with a hand. “Is this supposed to be you and Yasen?”
Zarya looked around, ensuring no one was within earshot. “Will you be quiet?”
She grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him away. When she looked over her shoulder, she saw Koura and Rabin now studying the pictures.
“I’ll explain everything,” she hissed before they turned to follow.
Zarya led them through Ishaan, her feet aching and her stomach rumbling with hunger, especially when she caught the scent of fried dough and fresh coffee from a nearby stand. Her mouth watered, but it wouldn’t do to linger out here. Hopefully, Yasen had a pot already brewing.
“This way,” she said, leading them down another street towards their flat.
When they entered, he was standing in the kitchen boiling water. He spun around as the door opened, blinking for a second before his face morphed from surprise into a scowl. “Zee! Where the fuck have you been!”
“Sorry,” she said, clasping her hands together. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I sent a note!”
“A note ?!” he shouted as he approached. Sometimes, Zarya forgot how much bigger he was, but he towered over her in his worry and indignation. “All it said was I’m fine. Back soon . What was I supposed to interpret from that?”
She grimaced. “That I was fine and I’d be back soon?”
“You scared me half to death!”
She tipped her head and thrust out her bottom lip. “Aw, were you worried about me?”
His lip curled up, fire flashing in his stone-grey eyes. “ Yes . I thought some monster had you. I thought you were swallowed into a pit. I thought you were—” He cut off before his eyes narrowed. Zarya looked over her shoulder to discover he was now glaring at Rabin. “Right. You . I was hoping she’d told you to fuck off.”
Then, his gaze fell on Row and Koura, his brow furrowing further with confusion before he noted the state of their attire. They were all a wind-blown mess. Well, Zarya was. Rabin looked perfect. Koura didn’t have any hair to mess. And Row always looked formidable no matter what.
“What on earth happened?” he demanded.
“Come on,” Zarya said, “we’ll explain everything.”
They called down to the local restaurant for breakfast and shared what had happened in Dharati. Or Zarya, Row, and Koura explained. Any time Rabin opened his mouth, Yasen threw him a scathing glare, so he sat back, grumbling under his breath but otherwise remaining silent.
“Vikram’s different, Yas,” she said. “I don’t know what’s happened, but he’s not the same man he was.”
Yasen shook his head. “I wish I could have seen him.”
She laid a hand on his arm. “He might need a friend.”
Yasen shifted in his seat as if trying to work away something uncomfortable. “At some point, I’ll go back. Right now, we’re needed here. So, what did you find out?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
Zarya pulled the spelled notebook out of her pocket and flipped it open. The pages crinkled softly as she scanned them while Row hovered over her, devouring each word.
The Jadugara were founded shortly after the Hanera Wars when thousands of the Ashvins’ descendants were rounded up. The ruling factions were focused on eradicating the darkness, and anyone with ties to the twins had a target on their backs.
One young Aazheri hid away, escaping his fate, and went in search of others like him—namely those with six anchors. He founded a fledging underground movement as a refuge for others with the darkness inside them. Eventually, they resurfaced as an organized group, hiding their dark magic and vowing to hunt down anyone with Ashvin blood in the name of Rahajhan. The rulers quickly came to rely on them, thankful to have the dirty work passed out of their hands.
Thus, they survived their own persecution while hiding in plain sight and dooming their own to a cage.
They quietly used their sixth anchor to create the ink and were responsible for the collars, further earning them the trust of Rahajhan’s royals. The vanshaj were Aazheri—they always had been. Only the circumstances of their birth, and quite likely, being in the wrong place at the wrong time, landed them on the wrong side of everything.
The Jadugara began seeking out young male vanshaj with the sixth anchor to bolster their ranks. They’d devised some kind of technique to sense it within their blood and would remove the children from the mothers when they were born, claiming their babies had died. They then raised the boys within the Imarat, training them to become Jadugara.
Zarya could hear the echoing screams of the distraught mothers, crying for their lost children, having no idea they’d actually been stolen. As she read the tale out to the silent listeners, a tear slipped down her cheek that she brushed away with the back of her hand.
When she was done reading, everyone sat still, stewing in their thoughts. Row looked like he wanted to be sick. She hadn’t managed to copy all the book’s contents, but they’d already confirmed enough.
“What else does it say?” Yasen said a minute later, his voice soft as he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.
Zarya flipped through the pages, looking for anything else that might prove useful.
“Fire. It says the most effective way to remove the collars is with fire.”
She frowned at the page, wondering what that meant. Fire as in an anchor? Or regular old fire? Could it be that easy?
“This is…” Row said. “I had no idea.”
“How has this remained hidden for a thousand years?” she asked.
“Everyone has been so scared for so long that they all refused to admit the sixth anchor still existed.”
“But surely someone must have talked.”
He shrugged. “It has obviously been a very closely guarded secret.”
Row opened his mouth as though he were about to say something else and then snapped it shut with a shake of his head.
“Is something like this hereditary?” Yasen asked.
“It can be,” Row answered. “But like all genetics, it’s not a guarantee.”
“So, does that mean her mother might have had it?”
Row shook his head. “If Asha did, I’m sure she would have…” He trailed off and rubbed a hand over his face. “Or maybe she wouldn’t have told me. I can’t say for sure at this point.”
“My father does,” Zarya said as everyone around the table went very still. “Rabin told me.” She looked at Rabin who offered her a slight dip of his chin.
“Is this true?” Row demanded. “He never shared that with me.”
Rabin shrugged. “It is true. And is further proof that he has no need of Zarya’s magic. He will simply be proud his daughter bears his lineage.”
Row’s eyes narrowed, clearly still doubting his claims. He turned to face Zarya. “So, what do you want to do with this information?”
“I think we need to expose the Jadugara for the liars they are. And we need to figure out what it means when it says ‘fire’ can help remove the collar. It reacted violently with the ink during my testing.”
“Zee,” Yasen said. “Not your fire anchor. Your nightfire .”
She blinked. “You think?”
He waved a hand at her. “Your talking necklace said it: she will be the one to free them all. This has to be connected.”
Zarya wrapped her hand around the jewel. “I can’t shoot nightfire at anyone. That would kill them.”
“Then I guess you’d better start practicing how to control it,” Row said, laying a hand on her shoulder.
“Control it. So I can use it on someone?”
She exchanged a look with Row and saw the apology in his expression. Like he didn’t want her burdened with all of this, but it was clear it had already gone beyond anyone’s choice. She was committed now, and there would be no turning back.
They continued talking for a while longer. Zarya asked for updates on Farida’s condition and Operation Starbreak, but everything was the same as when she’d left. They could barely keep their eyes open after being awake all night, and eventually, they all fell silent.
“So, where’s everyone sleeping?” Yasen asked. “We only have one extra bedroom.”
“Koura and I can share for now,” Row said. “We’ll find alternate lodging as soon as possible. This place is a bit small for so many of us.”
“What about him?” Yasen asked, glaring at Rabin. “Toss him into the dumpster out back where he belongs?”
“I’ll stay with Zarya,” Rabin snarled.
“No, you won’t,” she said. “You can take my room, and I’ll stay with Yasen.”
When Yasen opened his mouth to protest, Zarya shot him a pleading look, and he sighed. “Okay. Sure. Just don’t touch my things.”
She rolled her eyes as Rabin glared at Zarya across the table. He flexed his jaw momentarily before pushing himself up to stand.
“Fine,” he growled, with such vehemence that she felt the tiniest quiver ricochet in the pit of her stomach.