The Star-Touched Queen (The Star-Touched Queen #1)(76)

I looked from her to Amar. This whole time, his eyes had never left my face.

“I request a private audience with the Dharma Raja.”

His face was impassive, but he nodded in my direction and the smallest of victories lodged between my ribs, light as a heartbeat and just as hopeful. Around us, the crowd of darker beings sank into the shadows. Some licked their lips. Others just stared.

“You will receive no help,” said Nritti.

She reached down, tugging at the air like it was a handful of chains. Gupta was yanked out from behind the throne of thorns. His face was haggard, dirt creasing his skin. I lunged toward him, but Nritti slammed her heel into the ground and a wall of wind threw me back.

“None of that,” she chided. “Take the pishacha.”

Gupta nodded. I tried to make eye contact with him, but he refused to meet my gaze. Kamala whinnied, rearing onto her legs, fighting to stay close to me.

“We have a deal,” Kamala whispered into my ear. Her voice trembled. “You may not die. Not until I have a bite, or two, of that lush-lush arm, like you promised. If you die, I will kill you.”

I searched myself for a smile. “Have you grown fond of me, then?”

“As one who has grown fond of a particular dish. Nothing more.”

She huffed but she wouldn’t look at me. Gupta dragged her away. My hope felt bruised and cold. Winds teased the ends of my shorn hair and the sadhvi robes did nothing to keep out the chill.

“Which animal is the most cunning?” asked Nritti, stroking the blade between her fingers.

I frowned. That wasn’t a riddle. It was a matter of opinion.

“Flustered so soon by our game?” asked Nritti. She raised the blade, tracing small, sharp circles on the exposed tops of my feet.

Bear? Too lumbering. Tiger? Too noticeable. Sweat broke out between my shoulder blades. I didn’t know the answer. I paused. I didn’t know the answer.

I cleared my throat. “The one we have yet to discover.”

Nritti’s smile curled into the barest of snarls. Behind her, one corner of Amar’s lips quirked into a grin. Kamala laughed, stamping her hooves and tossing her head. But our game hadn’t ended yet.

Nritti stepped forward. “I am clothed but cannot grow; what am I?”

I swallowed my fear. “You’re either referring to one of two things. It’s either me or moss over stone.”

Behind Nritti, Amar let out an exhale that might—if I strained that weak hope in my ribs—have been a laugh.

“I am pleased with her answers. Give over the boy,” said Amar, with a lazy wave of his hand.

Nritti smiled like her throat was full of broken glass but she did as he said. She walked the boy to me and lifted her hand off his shoulder. The room was silent and still. I reached for him immediately, but no sooner had I done so did she snatch him back.

She laughed and tilted her head. “I said I would give you the boy. I didn’t say for how long.”

She swiveled toward Amar, and as she moved, I saw that there was something more than just a blade clasped to her salwar kameez. It was Amar’s noose, coiled tight against her hip. She gripped it tightly. “We need a soul, my lord. You said so yourself. If I do as you ask, the sadhvi must take his place. A soul for a soul.”

Amar wasn’t laughing anymore. The muscles in his neck tightened. His jaw clenched. But he didn’t say anything. Nritti’s grip on the noose turned her knuckles white. She was controlling him. I bit back a snarl.

Nritti turned back to me and her face was triumphant. “No soul, no bargain.”

Kamala whinnied, pulling against Gupta. I dropped my gaze to the ground, my heart frantic when I saw my sandals—mud crusted, tearing at the seams. I grinned. Don’t worry, Kamala, I thought, I’m not dying.

“I have one.”

When I spoke, my gaze was for Amar alone.

“Here,” I said, tearing off the sandal and throwing it at Nritti’s feet, “a sole for a soul.”

Kamala began to laugh and the deranged sound pitched off the walls, scattering between the bodies of the dark Otherworld beings. They stood slack-jawed and still. Only their eyes moved—bounding between me and Nritti and back. Before Nritti could speak, a creaking sound clattered through the room.

Amar scooped the dirtied sandal in one hand before pulling me away from Nritti. His grip crushed into my arm, strong as iron. But there was something else … he was trembling. I could feel it through my skin.

“I accept her barter. Release the boy,” he said tonelessly. “But have her locked into the chamber to Naraka.” He turned to Nritti. “Her demand insulted your honor. That cannot be allowed.”

The blood drained from my face. Scaled and roughened hands tugged at my arms, and I was dragged from the dais. I kicked, trying to throw off my assailant’s arms, but they were like shackles. From his throne, Amar stared and beside him, Nritti’s face glowed smugly.

*

The beasts of the Otherworld threw me behind a metal door sunken into the knotted trunk of a banyan tree. Inside, the sounds of the Otherworldly beings outside stuttered into silence. In this shadowed room, softly glowing moths lit up the walls. Fear left me trembling. They were going to kill me.

I turned around, looking for escape. Behind me was a great obsidian mirror, like the one I had once found in the room with the tree full of memories. In its reflection, the stone halls of Naraka glittered.