“Did you practice today?”

“No, but I will manage.” The truth is I will explode if I do not expel the heat smoldering through me. I draw the second dagger, leaving my other hand free, and approach the door.

Brac draws his ax. “Ready?”

I nod, and he throws open the door.

Manas and three more guards draw their swords. Brac flies at the trio. I capture Manas’s arm. Pull. Don’t push. I feel for his inner heat and tug. A golden thread passes from Manas to me as I coax his fire out strand by strand, flame by flame. My inner fire grows hotter, stronger with his added light, until Manas drops to the floor. Brac parches two guards and cuffs the final one in the head with the blunt end of his ax.

I look down at Manas’s gray complexion, my burning veins full of his excess soul-fire. “Will he be all right?”

“Should be. Next time let go a little sooner, or you will turn your opponent into a prune.” Brac pushes one of the guard’s legs out of the way with his foot. “Where to now?”

“Jaya first.”

Brac’s sneakiness proves dependable. He leads the way through the vacant corridors, down three levels to a slightly ajar door. We back up against the wall. A servant comes out, and Brac nabs him by the neck. The servant sags in his arms. We drag him out of the way and steal inside the hushed chamber.

I round a corner, dagger first. Jaya waits there, ready to attack with the supper knife. Her cheek is bandaged, the whites of her wide eyes matching the color of the sterile cloth.

“Kali.” She lowers her weapon with an exhalation.

Brac glances in the other doorways with his ax raised. “Where’s the general?”

“He’s not here. Why have you come?”

“We’re getting you and Deven out,” I say.

Jaya’s shoulders slacken. “I wanted to tell you what happened at supper. The captain was right. The Zhaleh was in the tomb. We had it when the guards arrived, but my skirt caught in the door. Captain Naik stayed to help me. The guards seized us and put him in the dungeons.”

“Where’s the Zhaleh now?” I ask.

“Gautam returned it to the rajah. He must have hidden it again by now.”

A groan rises up my throat. Deven had the Zhaleh in his hands. I cannot think about how close we were to leaving here together, to having our dream.

“Kali, Gautam dropped me off here after supper and then went straight to the dungeons.” An apology seeps from Jaya’s gaze. “He’s questioning Captain Naik about the bhuta warlord.”

“But Deven doesn’t know anything!”

“Doesn’t matter.” Brac grabs his hair. “Gautam will torture him regardless.”

Brac does not say so, but I know that he thinks we should have gone to find Deven first. Coming here for Jaya was my order, my choice. And now, we may be too late.

29

Jaya and I descend the dark, slippery stairs to the dungeons after Brac. I grip the wall, tension vibrating out of my fingertips. Brac stops near the bottom and motions for us to stay. He disappears around the corner, and I hear a loud thump. I peer around the bend and see a guard go down, parched. Jaya comes forward with me, eyeing the unconscious guard.

Brac lays his hands on the door above the latch. “Viraji, a little help, please?”

He must mean that he wants me to burn it down. That is one way to expel the excess heat we have taken in.

I join him at his side and rest my hands on the wood. “Call me Kali.”

“Scorch it, Kali.”

I do as he asks, eager to push out my simmering powers, but nothing happens.

Brac curses under his breath. “They put the same poisonous herbs from your tonic into the clay bricks to keep bhuta prisoners from escaping the dungeons. The bricks must be around this doorframe too.” He hacks at the door with his ax.

Jaya pales. “He knows about the toxins in your tonic?”

“Do you?” I search her guilt-ridden face.

“I helped Healer Baka grow them. I was worried at first, but she explained that the combination wouldn’t hurt you, and it didn’t. The tonic lowered your fevers.”

“The tonic did more than that.” Brac cracks a hole in the door big enough to shove his arm in. He reaches through the gap and opens the latch.

The door swings open, and Brac steps inside. Jaya goes next. I follow her into the dim, tunnellike corridor. Immediately, I am doused with the sensation of being immersed in frigid water. The toxins in the walls dwindle my powers to a tiny, useless ember, just like when I entered the atrium.

Brac opens and closes his fists, frowning. “Is this how it feels to be a full mortal? How do they stand it?”

“Shh,” Jaya says. “I hear something.”

Garbled voices float out of a cell at the far end of the corridor. Jaya nudges me forward with a look, and I lead the way. We creep past iron-barred cells that reek of human waste and vomit. I slide my slingshot from my hip and dig around in the pouch for a firing stone. The final cell door hangs open, and Gautam’s voice carries out.

“I have given you plenty of chances. Tell me where Hastin is hiding.”

I edge up to the doorway. Candlelight shines out, yellowing the dingy floor.

“I don’t know,” says Deven, his voice weak.

A string of muted thumps ensues, followed by a pained groan.

I do not need my powers to feel my temper rise. I arm my slingshot and pull it taut. Brac ticks his head sideways for me to hold off—we do not know who else is inside—but that is a chance I will take.

Gautam’s voice toughens. “Tell me what you know.”

There is a hard thud, and then Deven groans. I have heard enough.

I step into the lit doorway. Deven is tied to a chair, his face a bloody mess. Gautam and his two guards reach for their weapons. I lob the firing stone at one guard, hitting him in the eye. He goes down. Brac throws his ax into the other guard’s chest. His brutality strikes me like I am the one hit. I am glad he is on our side.

Brac raises the second ax at Gautam. “Lay down your weapon.”

The general spits a foul curse and drops his sword. Brac shoves Gautam against the wall, raising his ax to his throat, and then disarms the first guard by kicking his sword out of reach. The guard stays down, cupping his injured eye.

I rush to Deven. His face is worse up close. Blood runs down his nose and spatters the sandy floor around his chair. As I untie his wrists, I try not to think of the pain he must be in.

“I had it, Kali.” His voice is pure agony. “I had the book.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” I release his wrists from the constricting cordage, and his arms slacken at his sides. I prop him up, bracing him under his shoulder. “We’re leaving.”

“None of you will make it out of the palace alive,” says Gautam.

Jaya takes a charged step into the cell. “Yes, we will.”

Gautam clenches his hands into fists. “You are my wife. I order you to stay.”

“I am devoted to the gods,” Jaya says. “I do not obey you.”

Gautam lunges for the ax sunken into the fallen guard’s chest and yanks it free. The conscious soldier throws a handful of sand in Brac’s face, temporarily blinding him, and retrieves his sword. He aims the pointed end at Brac. I rise with my dagger, and Deven draws its twin from my hip.

Gautam snags Jaya by the hair and raises the ax blade to her throat. “Surrender or she dies.”

Deven takes aim with the dagger, but he has no clear shot, with Gautam using Jaya to shield himself. “Have you no loyalty?” Deven says. “She’s your wife.”

“And you’re my son. You think that means anything? Mathura chose to keep you. I never wanted a useless bastard.”

Brac smears sand from his streaming eyes. “Couldn’t handle more than one in the family?”

“Save your insults, demon.” Gautam tightens his hold on the blade at Jaya’s throat. In her hand, gripped at her side beneath the pleats of her sari, is the supper knife. “Drop your weapons,” the general says.

“First, let Jaya go,” I say.

“Young Viraji.” Gautam sneers at my title. “Still haven’t learned your place.”

“Neither have I.” Jaya twists, and I see a flit of silver. She buries the short blade of the table knife in her husband’s throat.

Gautam stumbles back, eyes oversize with shock. He drops to his knees, feeling for the handle of the knife lodged deep. This will not be a quick death, choking on his own blood, but it is the death he deserves.

The soldier I shot in the eye slashes at Brac. While the guard’s back is turned, Deven tosses the dagger with swift precision. The blade drives into the soldier’s spine, and he arches. Brac steps out of the way, and the guard plummets face-first to the ground.

Brac sheathes his axes. “I had him,” he says.

“Of course you did,” Deven says, cradling his side. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“You either. My elder brother, the most loyal of soldiers, in the dungeons. Times do change.” Brac retrieves my twin dagger and comes to Deven’s side. “Can you walk?”

“I will make do.” Deven picks up one of the discarded swords, taking care not to strain his injured rib cage, and turns to his brother. “For what it’s worth,” he says, “I always knew you were a Burner. I wasn’t pretending you weren’t because I was ashamed of you. I thought I was protecting you by keeping it a secret.”

Brac rests his hand on his brother’s upper back. “I was protecting you by keeping my powers to myself.”

Deven grab’s Brac’s shoulder. “I’m glad you aren’t dead.”

Brac’s face bursts into a grin. “Same to you.”

I leave them and go to Jaya. She stands over Gautam, staring vacantly at his lifeless eyes. I wrap her trembling body in a hug. “It’s done.”

“I had to do it.”

“I know.” She presses her face into my shoulder, and I smooth back her hair. “You did the right thing.”