My heart slows to a lurching plod. All physical awareness falls away, and stillness settles over me. The lack of feeling in my body hones the clarity of my mind.

Our bond is not of love but of hatred. I am anchoring Tarek to this world. I am giving him power and permission to enter my life.

Healer Baka once told me that peace is a choice. A decision not to be at odds with the world. I have been at odds with Tarek for so long, I know no other way. But we are not the same. I have to make a better choice than he did. I must let go, or I will earn a place with him.

Words swell up my throat, hurting everywhere. “I forgive you.” He tilts closer to hear. I repeat myself, strongly. “I forgive you for claiming me. I only married you to end your life. I’ve loathed you since we met, but I cannot hold on to my hatred any longer. I forgive you for taking me from my home and ruining my dream of peace.”

He unleashes an animalistic growl. “Kalinda, this is nonsense. You love me. You’re my wife.”

“I forgive you for murdering all those innocent bhutas and destroying their families. I forgive you for being a poor father to Ashwin and for your unkindness toward your wives and courtesans.” My voice snags, but I push onward. “I . . . I even forgive you for taking away my best friend. I forgive you . . . for killing Jaya.”

Tarek’s itchy darkness weakens. He wrenches at my chin. “You owe me your life. I did as the gods willed by claiming you. I made you my kindred. Without me, you are no one. History will only remember you because of me.”

More frozen tears cling to my eyelashes, blurring my view. “I forgive you because you brought Deven to me, you introduced me to Ashwin, and you united Natesa and me in friendship.” His darkness recedes to smoke. He tries to silence me with his hand over my mouth, but I speak through him. “I forgive you, Tarek. For everything. Do not come to me anymore. Do not follow me in my shadow. I’ll never summon you again.”

“Kalinda!” Tarek’s clawlike fingers snatch at my hair but pass right through. His haziness tremors in rage. “I am your husband! You’ll never be rid of me. Never!”

Within me, a heaviness I am so accustomed to carrying falls away, and peace warms me enough to melt my icicle tears. “Good-bye, Tarek. I will pray for your soul.”

He lunges for me, but like smoke dispersing into the sky, the last of Rajah Tarek fades.

Shaky breaths tumble in and out of me. Though I am still numb, lightness fills the emptiness of his parting. I have sought freedom and peace all my life. I thought I had to fight for them, earn them, or wait until the gods saw fit to grant me both. But peace of mind was always within reach.

Ashwin returns, his arms full of cloth. “I found this hung over a doorway.” He drapes the heavy material over me. I recognize the tapestry as the one that conceals the tunnel leading to the palace. I saw it when I came here to raze many moons ago . . .

“Ashwin, pick up my dagger.”

“What? Why?”

“Please. Just do it.” He takes one of my mother’s daggers by its turquoise hilt. “I need your help. I am too frozen to do this on my own. I want you to cut me.” With great effort, I indicate the places on my wrists.

“You want me to cut you?”

“We need to let my blood. The healer in Lestari said it will help.” For a time. Then the poison would return twofold, but I will reap those consequences later.

Ashwin backs up. “I cannot hurt you.”

A blast discharges outside the chapel, shuddering the rafters. Ashwin comes behind me and hauls me into his lap. I recline into him, too wilted to move unassisted. From the explosions growing louder and nearer, we have no time to waste.

“You won’t hurt me,” I say. “I would do it myself if I could.”

Ashwin lowers the blade to my arm but pulls away. “I cannot do this.”

I drop my head against him, my breaths slow to strenuous draws. “I wouldn’t ask if there were another way.”

“The last time I was forced to act in desperation I unleashed a demon!” His heart charges against my back. “I did this to you, Kalinda. I released Udug. Deven has been right all along. I was selfish. I wanted . . . I wanted my heart’s wish. I dreamed of the palace, the army, the people—and you.”

“I’ve never blamed you for releasing Udug,” I slur. The full agony of the frost returns. The numbness will debilitate me soon. “I’ve always wanted you to retain your throne. I need you to return my help.” I roll my wrists up for him. “I’m dying, Ashwin. If you don’t do this . . .”

He shoves at his tears. “Here and here?” He traces my skin with the blade.

“Yes.” I speak between gasps. “I don’t know what will emerge . . . when you break the skin . . . so stay behind me.” The first time I razed, heat burst out so hot my tears puffed to steam.

He trembles the dagger over my wrist. He can do this, but he must trust me. Trust himself. Ashwin rests his blade against the smooth skin.

I inhale a tiny breath. “Go.”

Ashwin cuts just deep enough to draw blood. Pain greets my demand, and a rush of freezing air flows out. The cold slaps me like a frigid wind. Ashwin suffers the onslaught and shifts the tip of the blade to my other arm, slices a little deeper, and even more winter rushes out.

He drops the blade and holds my bleeding wrists. I slouch against him, beads of sweat collecting at my temples. I close my eyes and search inside myself. My soul-fire burns in my inner sky. As I bleed into Ashwin’s grip, the starlight becomes purer and more intense. I am still weak, far from my strongest self, but less disarrayed.

Gemi returns with her arms full of clothes and drops them with a gasp.

“Don’t be alarmed,” I say. “Ashwin helped me raze—”

An explosion above us drowns me out. Gemi covers her head, and Ashwin bends over me. Dust and clay fall from the ceiling, spattering the altar. The roof holds, but I no longer trust our security here.

Ashwin lets my wrists go and pales at the sight of his bloody hands.

Gemi passes him a cloth, covering them. “Clean up. I’ll help Kalinda.”

He puts some distance between us while Gemi binds my wrists with more cloth. They hurt, but the pain is more manageable than the cold and less terrifying than the numbness. The inner chill persists, ever lurking. I push my powers into my fingers. They glow blue instead of white, but my bleeding wrists bank the worst of Udug’s cold-fire, for now.

She ties off my bandage. “I’ve never seen a Burner raze without an Aquifier present. It’s too dangerous. Ashwin must care for you very much.” Gemi’s wistful tone is almost envious.

“He’s a good man.” The return of my senses brings with them sharpened worries. We have not come upon Deven in the city. I can scarcely consider the possible dangers he and my friends could be in. Too much could have gone awry.

Ashwin rejoins us. “We have to leave here.”

“Let’s find Hastin,” I say. “He may be more open to an alliance now.” I stand with Gemi’s help and take a lamp to the corner where Ashwin unpinned the tapestry. Gemi and Ashwin come to view the opening, the princess carrying her trident. “This tunnel leads to the palace.”

Ashwin squints down the stairwell. “Is this the only way?”

“It’s better than running into the army in the city.”

A blast rocks the temple. The ceiling sags and then crumbles, caving in. We dart down the stairs, debris tumbling after us. At the bottom, Gemi halts the landslide of rubble with her powers, sealing off the city above.

Ashwin swivels toward the open end of the passageway. “Well, that settles that.” He extends the lamp in front of him, and we navigate into the city’s underground.

28

DEVEN

The sister warriors line up on the ramparts. Yatin, Natesa, Opal, and I are in the center of the troops, on the wall near the gate. Everyone is silent, like the flashes of lightning overhead, while we watch the army steadily approach.

Galers conduct the storm from the palace balconies. Aquifiers are stationed beside open water barrels set around the grounds. Hastin and his Tremblers reinforce the outer wall from the courtyard and garden. The rebel army is small, about two hundred bhutas according to my estimate, approximately the same number of sister warriors.

Brac has not returned, a concern I have no time at the moment to resolve. I cannot leave my troops, so I hope and pray he finds us.

The torches of the army break through the roads. The infantry and archers fan out in front of the wall, men marching and artillery wagons creaking. They are as loud and mobile as we are motionless. Manas rides with the light cavalry and raises his hand for a halt. Hastin calls for the same. The rain and thunder stop, but the dark clouds still swirl, interspersed by bolts of lightning.

Udug rides up to Manas’s side, identifiable by his glowing blue hands, and he dismounts. His ranks have diminished to nearly half the size, but we are still outnumbered by thousands. The disguised demon strides to the barricaded gate. The torches reveal his appearance. The sister warriors inhale in unison.

He directs his speech at the shaken women. “My wives, I have come to free you. Lay down your weapons and let me into our home.”

“Hold your ground,” I command. “Don’t believe his lies.”

Shyla answers, her tone hushed, “We know our husband. That isn’t him.”

“He isn’t Tarek,” Parisa and Eshana agree in tandem.

More ranis and courtesans murmur the same proclamation down the line. He isn’t Tarek. I should not have doubted them or their conviction.

“Captain Naik,” Udug calls out, “what falsehoods have you told my family?”

“I told them the truth. You don’t belong in our world.”

Udug scoffs and waves at Manas, who dismounts and starts for an ammunitions wagon. “I have no interest in destroying my palace in my effort to return to my home. Perhaps you and I can work out an exchange. You let me through the gate, and I won’t execute your brother.”