3. Leela
LEELA
It wasn’t until Leela neared the central markets that she reached into her bag and pulled out the scarf she’d packed.
Sweeping it over the curve of her mouth and the slight jut of her nose, she blended into the bustling crowd.
The drumming continued, probably streets away, but loud enough to echo throughout Leela’s entire body.
The twin moons gleamed down with their crescent smiles, bathing the city in their luminescence.
Charred meat and sandalwood from stalls wafted over Leela as she kept to the busy red streets, merging into traffic.
Everywhere she looked, Nihikians wore an assortment of loose pants, shirts, and floral printed skirts despite the whispering, cool night air.
Numerous arches overlooked the city streets as people danced and sang into the night.
Clinks echoed in a nearby courtyard as women and children flung their ankles and wrists to the skies.
Children danced with one another, gripping arms while smacking their feet onto the dirt.
Their smiles were enough to stop her. To see how happy the citizens were, fully unaware of what was happening in the palace.
The women of the palace were getting married. But to the locals, it meant more money for their already wealthy city. More food and protection.
Leela steadied herself against a nearby sandstone building and ground her teeth together. She didn’t have time to feel pity for the eleven women she’d left behind. She didn’t have time to think of the money she cost the palace because she’d escaped—rather, she didn’t give a shit.
She went deeper into the city, shoving aside her regret. Men hollered from between the alleyways, trying to entice her.
“Hey, pretty, up for some fun?” one of the men hollered.
Leela clenched the H-shaped hilt in her pocket and shook her head, not stopping for anything until she came upon the Goddess River that flowed from the mountains and through the city.
She pulled out the note and took another glance to make sure she was heading in the right direction.
Thunder struck across the cloudless night sky louder than the roar of a divine Flame, causing Leela to almost drop the note into the water.
She pulled her scarf higher and quickened her footsteps along the riverbank, heading toward a cluster of buildings.
She sincerely hoped it wouldn’t rain. But it hadn’t stormed in the desert kingdoms ever since the Flames above died more than three centuries ago, the thunder more of an omen than the threat of an oncoming storm.
Her heart raced, fingers clenching around the crumpled note hidden in her pocket.
Leela scurried behind another building. The further she ventured, the darker the streets became.
She traced the red sandstone walls of a building leading down to a darkened alley.
Grabbing a nearby barrel, she hoisted herself onto the roof and looked back at the layered maze of rooftops between her and the blazing palace nestled into the mountainside.
Under the light of the moons, she tiptoed along the rooftops, hoping the people inside thought her merely a squirrel. A very loud squirrel, but better that than a monster.
Two alleyways and a turn to the left, Leela finally found her destination.
A building wedged into the mountainside.
Several men prowled at the periphery with glowing weapons on their belts.
Leela bit the inside of her cheek, assessing their godsblades which curved into elegant crescents—almost as blue as the twin moons above.
The men’s darker camouflage clothing, scarves covering their mouths, and gleaming weapons told Leela all she needed to know—they were rebels.
“Shit,” she muttered to herself.
Leela had two options: sneak in or hope the note was as good as an invitation.
A bell chimed, and Leela cursed to the skies above. She turned toward the city walls that kept away the vicious creatures from the Netherworld and served as a shield from the howling sandstorms splitting the three desert kingdoms apart.
It tugged at Leela’s heart and reminded her why she was here. Get the relic. Destroy the lustisha. Avenge her family.
She crouched and tuned in to what the rebels were saying, but the aimless chatter strung itself into a melody she couldn’t pick apart.
She leaned in closer, her feet inching over.
Her hand fumbled on a loose tile and it clattered to the ground, shortly followed by Leela.
She tried to scream. Her cloak billowed around her, flapping like heavy wings.
A thud and a face-full of red sand later, she lay face down on the ground.
Groaning, she rolled over and stared into several pairs of haunted brown eyes. She sucked in a breath. Instead, she coughed up a clump of red sand. By the time she gathered herself, there were weapons flanking her.
Be calm.
It was too late now. All she could do was play along and hope they didn’t kill her.
“What have we got here?” one of the guards asked. He leered over her as he pressed his glowing blade against her throat.
“A nobody,” Leela answered with a forced smile. “Someone who can’t land on their feet.”
“A stalker,” another guard hissed.
Sighing, Leela pulled out the note. A flash of blue whipped by her face, and Leela held steady as more weapons circled her in a ring of silver.
Leela forced a smile. “Easy, gentlemen, I have a letter.”
A guard swiped it from between her fingers and nearly ripped it open.
Leela continued to lie on the ground, hands raised.
She had heard stories of the rebels rising, trying to harness the gods and their insurmountable powers as well as trying to hunt the ancient artifacts dropped by the sandstorms—as if harnessing the power of dead Flames was of any value in a chaotic world.
Although she had also heard of the palace harnessing Flames and sending people up against the monsters like they were personal weapons.
Leela cursed herself for falling. The palace had prepared her to be a wife instead of a fighter, and she didn’t stand a chance against these men with the godsblades at their hips. Her only salvation was that letter.
“Bring her in,” a soldier ordered.
They snatched her satchel and pulled Leela to her feet, a rebel at each of her arms, and dragged her along the red sand toward the wooden door.
Her heart jumped into her throat as the door boomed open, and she was marched along a dark dank corridor.
Dancing shadows led the way, the only light coming from the glow of the rebels’ weapons.
Leela wriggled her nose. Something long dead stifled the air in these walls, and she really hoped she wasn’t about to find out why.
“Where are you taking me?” Leela asked past the lump in her throat.
“To whom you came to see,” the guard grunted back.
“Aren’t you going to ask me how I got the letter?” Leela asked. Getting whatever information she could out of these men might be helpful, even if it meant poking at them.
The guards stopped.
The one in front spun, his meaty breath inches from Leela’s face. “I didn’t quite think it important to know how someone like you managed to get a note to this place,” the man sneered. “Most people who come here are led by ‘letters’ like these.”
Leela frowned. “Letters like these?”
“It means someone led you to the right place,” the guard said, a wicked smile curling. “Someone wanted you here.”
Blood drained from her face. Her stomach churned with the realization—these men had to be the rebel group forcing kidnapped mortals to harness Flames for battle. But why had Aarna taken her here…? Surely, she would have known.
The guard chuckled at Leela’s silence before he continued down the hall.
The rebels led her deeper and deeper into the cavernous depths underground. The floor tilted, and Leela had to catch herself several times. She counted her footsteps and the time they’d spent in the darkness, because if she managed to escape, she’d need to run back the way they came.
When they finally stopped, light blasted Leela from all angles.
She blinked several times. Candles wilted against the cave walls before her as the ceiling opened up to the twin moons.
A burning metal drum sat dead center. A flash of lightning highlighted the shadows of several hooded figures standing around the edges, each with a godsblade at their belt.
Leela’s heart raced as she searched the shadows of the hooded figures, deciphering if any were in the image of an animal or body, the moons above highlighting each shadow. Luckily, she didn’t notice any.
“And who do we have here?”
A sultry voice gripped Leela, sending trails of ice down her spine. A man with an untrimmed beard sauntered from the depths of the cave. Leela tried to step back, but his eyes were as dark as the desert under a starless sky and held her captive.
Leela had no choice but to hold still, muscles locking as she took him in.
He wore a rusty-red shirt that complemented his tall, lanky frame, and rings glistened on each of his fingers.
As he stepped into the moonslight, she glimpsed his two shadows stretching behind him as if someone were dragging them with slender fingers into the silhouette of a raven and a man.
Shit. He was a Vessel. To the Raven, of all the Flames above.
Leela’s heart pounded harder as a monster’s growl reverberated around the city. A flock of birds took to the skies, flying over the hollow opening of the cave.
“She fell from the rooftops, Ishaan,” a guard said.
Another emptied Leela’s contents in front of Ishaan.