Chapter 11
More and more horns joined the call. Together they screamed into the heavens, shaking the air and sending a tingle down my spine. It raced to my toes and left them feeling as though they were pricked by thousands of tiny needles.
“What’s happening?” Ektha furrowed her brow as she looked up toward the skies above the stepwell. “Did the raja of Banghervari arrive already?”
There was no time to stand still. Wordlessly, I used the tambura to push Ektha toward the stepwell’s wall so she was flat against it. “It’s an attack,” I whispered.
“What?” Ektha yelled back. She hadn’t heard me over the blaring horns.
“An attack!” I repeated as loud as I dared. I acted out stabbing motions with my free hand to emphasize my point.
Her jaw dropped, but—to her credit—she did not flinch. “Should we go and help?”
“No.” That was a terrible idea. She was the next rani of Ullal, not a soldier who had to defend the fort. We had no weapons between the two of us, and Ektha was a far better diplomat than a fighter. “We need to keep you safe.”
Ektha pointed to the stepwell’s door. She’d left it wide open when she came down. “If anyone finds us here, we’re as good as dead. There’s nowhere to hide, and someone is bound to notice that door if they pass nearby.”
“They shouldn’t breach the fort walls,” I said. “Our soldiers should take care of that. We’ll be safe here.”
I spoke with confidence, but I couldn’t stop my eyes from flicking upward as the echoes of screams crowded the air.
“If they haven’t breached the walls, then it’s safe for us to go,” Ektha said. “We need to be up there. Hiding here serves no purpose—it renders both of us completely useless and puts us in a vulnerable position.”
“For someone who hated lessons on military tactics, you seem to have picked up a lot,” I grumbled.
“I never wanted to use them, but I always listened.” Ektha turned and began to climb the stairs. “Only a fool thinks peace is the answer to every problem.”
I scrambled to catch up to her. There was no way she could go through that doorway first—who knew what lay on the other side? My toes desperately gripped the stone worn smooth by decades upon decades of use as I tried to pass her on the narrow stairway, but Ektha refused to let me by.
I realized that after this set of stairs, there was only one more before we reached the doorway out into the gardens. I used my tambura to push Ektha closer to the wall so I could pass.
“Get behind me,” I hissed. “You are the future rani of Ullal. I need to keep you safe.”
“You and your precious duty.” Ektha crossed her arms and stared at me through narrowed eyes.
Commands rang out from above, and stomping feet answered their calls. It still wasn’t loud enough to drown out the terrified screams.
“It’s not just my duty.” How could I explain this to her? From the moment I was old enough to understand, I had known that the purpose of my life was to support and defend my sister’s. All that time studying, training, observing—all of that was to make sure I could champion Ullal’s next great rani.
“It’s my birthright,” I said. “You cannot deny me that.”
Ektha turned to climb again, but I reached out and touched her shoulder.
“Please,” I whispered. “I could never forgive myself if anything happened to you.”
Finally, Ektha’s tight shoulders fell, and she stepped toward the wall to make room for me. As I passed, she said, “Just know I feel the same about you.”
I gave her hand a small squeeze and continued up the stairs, stopping a few steps below the doorway.
Outside the open door, I could only see blue skies streaked with white clouds that looked like horse tails—no signs of the red blood that was surely spilling on our grounds. In the sky, the world was at peace.
A chilling scream rang through the stepwell.
Gauging distance in the echoing chamber was difficult, but it sounded close.
I wished I’d grabbed a weapon before leaving this morning.
A sword would have been ideal, but anything pointy would have done.
For now, I held my tambura upside down with both hands, like a club.
Hardly an effective weapon, but it was all I had.
When the sounds outside subsided, I gestured to Ektha to stay where she was. Her eyes were mutinous, but she nodded. I kept my tambura raised and slowly peeked above the topmost stair.
The garden appeared completely deserted, but it was impossible to see into the labyrinth of trees and flowers.
The convoluted lines that had allowed me to escape unnoticed this morning had become a maze of potential hiding spots for our unknown enemies.
I climbed out of the stepwell, cursing the thick trunks, lush foliage, and dense hanging flowers that formed walls and curtains all around me.
I had to keep Ektha safe in this. Somehow.
As I approached the archway ahead, the horns rang out in unison. Two short, one long. Two short, one long. The attack was coming from the beach side, not the main gate. That could only mean one thing.
“Porcugi.” I tightened my grip on my tambura.
“Spirits forbid,” a low voice said from behind me.
Instinctively, I whirled around, swinging my tambura as I spun. I pulled back my resonant weapon when I caught sight of Ektha’s pale blue sari, which I recognized before I saw her face.
“Aren’t you supposed to be protecting me?” she asked.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in the stepwell?” I gestured to the doorway. “Go back until I know it’s safe.”
“Let’s just ask Parushi if it’s safe or not.” Ektha pointed behind me.
I turned and saw Parushi approaching with five guards trailing behind her. She carried an extra sword and waved it at me as she called out in relief. “Thank the Spirits you’re here. And you’re safe.”
“Protect Rajkumari Ektha!” I commanded, and the soldiers formed a ring around her. With a thankful nod, I took the sword from Parushi. It was longer than the one I was used to, but it was well balanced. And it was far more effective than my tambura.
“The raja demands that you both return to the fort,” Parushi said. “He insists that you do not fight, Rajkumari Abbakka.”
I got ready to argue, but Ektha turned to me. There was a slight tremble in her fingers as she touched my arm and said, “Please. Come with me.”
She needed me to protect her. I would convince my uncle I should return to the battle after Ektha was safe. “Parushi, lead the way. I’ll watch the rear.”
We wove our way back toward the fort. Every turn brought more tension as Parushi scouted beyond the tall trees and fragrant blossoms that obscured our line of sight.
Ektha’s face had lost all its color, but she kept going.
She was a petal adrift in a raging ocean, staying afloat but trapped by the control of the waters.
“Not much further,” I said, encouraging her. “Almost out of the gardens; then it’s a straight line to the fort.”
As we approached the edge of the gardens, Parushi signaled to us to crouch down.
We caught our heaving breaths as she spoke.
“The nearby entrance has been locked from the inside. We didn’t know where to find you, so we kept a servant’s door toward the front of the fort open for your return. On my mark, we go.”
“We’ll be out in the open,” I said.
Parushi nodded. “We’ll have to sprint. Once we round the corner, we can take cover behind the hedges and archways of the entrance. Until then, keep the circle tight around Rajkumari Ektha.”
I clenched my hilt with white knuckles, warming it with every heartbeat that pulsed through my fingers.
My legs were wound tight, like a coiled cobra ready to strike.
Next to me, Ektha pulled her long pallu from behind her and tucked it into her waistband.
Her fingers trembled, but she looked toward the gate with her jaw set.
I extended the pinky of my left hand and touched hers.
She hooked her pinky around mine and murmured, “Together.”
I nodded and tightened the lock of our fingers. “Together.”
“Now!” Parushi yelled, and we sprang forward like a wave crashing toward the shore.
We were a blur of arms and legs and blades as our knotted circle approached the fort.
I stayed behind Ektha, expecting to need to encourage her to run faster, but she kept pace.
Her bun began to uncoil, swirling down to the nape of her neck and then finally tumbling open along her back so her hair bounced with every stride.
But she didn’t pause. She kept moving forward.
A true leader. My future rani.
A frantic blast from the horns made me look behind us.
I barely contained a scream at the sight of the monstrous half-man, half-snake creatures slithering through the far beachside wall.
Soldiers streamed to the breach, holding the Porcugi and pushing them back toward the opening with an endless stream of arrows and steel.
Except for one, which was heading straight toward us.
No bedtime stories could have prepared me for the sight of this living nightmare.
Its scaly, snakelike tail and body cleaved the ground as it raced forward, keeping its muscular humanoid torso and sword-wielding arms held up off the ground.
Its silver-scaled face seemed almost human, except for its cobra-like hood and massive golden eyes—easily as big as my hands—which were focused on our group.
The monster never blinked as it propelled toward us.
“Attack from behind!” I screamed.
Parushi sprinted to my side, her bow already in hand.
Ektha needed to get out of here, now. “Parushi and I will handle this. Secure the future rani!” I commanded.
“We need to stay together!” Ektha protested.
“You need to make it to that entrance. I need to make it so,” I told her. Ektha’s eyes pleaded with me, but this was not the time to argue. “Go. I’ll find you soon.”
The guards nodded their agreement, and one of them tossed me a bow and quiver of arrows. I nodded gratefully, but he hardly noticed as he unsheathed his sword while he pushed Ektha toward the safety of the fort.
“Promise!” Ektha refused to go with the soldiers.
“I promise!” I held her eyes, unblinking.
An eternity passed in a heartbeat, but she finally turned and sprinted toward the front of the fort, surrounded by a ring of five soldiers bristling with weapons. I took a step toward her—following her—before catching myself. She would be fine. So long as Parushi and I took care of the Porcugi.
I turned, slung the bow and quiver over my shoulder, and ran toward the attacking monster. “For Ullal!”