The Tiger at Midnight (The Tiger at Midnight Trilogy #1)(21)

On the darkest, loneliest nights at the Fort, he wondered what life might have been like if he and his mother had escaped the palace the night of the coup. If they had left earlier . . . if his nurse hadn’t dragged him away to hide him. . . .

Perhaps they’d still be together, painting side by side as they had in his childhood. He used to watch the sunset every night from the highest window in the palace with his mother, his eyes wide as she taught him the correct way to shade light, to cast shadows on canvas. He’d go to bed with splotches of paint up and down his arm, his hard-won battle scars from the day.

Kunal bit his lip, shaking his head as if it would loosen the memories from his mind and let them fall to the ground. He had barely known his father, only whispers of memories before he was gone, but his mother . . . the loss of her was still raw, ten years later. Her last name, Dhagan, was the only thing he had left of her.

There was a reason he avoided those memories.

He tried to focus in on the present, for with every passing minute, it was looking more and more like he was lost in the Tej. At least he had the mind to take his weapons with him. He nearly tripped over a large knotted root and caught himself on the tree trunk.

There was one of his marks, etched into the bark. He sighed in relief. Worst case, he would have to camp here, as it was almost midnight, and he could make his way back in the morning. He brushed his hands together, wiping off the crackle of bark and green dust on his palms.

The snap of a stick jolted him out of his skin and he whipped around, his senses heightened after years of Senap training.

The noise wasn’t far away and was moving away from him; whoever was in the forest with him must be close and didn’t know of his presence yet.

An animal? Or raiders. Or the Viper?

He had the element of surprise—which meant he could scout ahead. Raiders or animals and he’d turn back to get the others. But if it was the third, the Viper, this could be his chance to get ahead in the competition.

The Tej was the only way out of the Fort aside from the main trade road. They’d already asked the patrols on the trade road if they had seen anyone leave the Fort and had turned up empty.

Kunal took the gamble and moved stealthily after the noise, his legs picking up the silent pace. It was faint, but Kunal was trained to hear the shuffle of feet after the calm silence. Whoever was there didn’t want to be followed, and was trying to hide their steps.

He dropped, feeling around for impressions in the ground. The misshapen bend of a fallen branch, weighted down by a quick step. And farther up, under the flicker of moonlight, the leaves a darker shade of green where a foot had been.

He was right—they were nearby.

Kunal lunged into the small clearing, grabbing on to a twisted branch to steady himself.

A figure clothed in pants and a turban was two paces away, crouching in a good defensive stance, knife pointing outward.

Looking in the wrong direction.

Kunal recognized the dark curls flying in the soft wind.

He cleared his throat, allowing Esha a second to turn.





Chapter 12


Esha nearly jumped out of her skin as a deep voice whispered her name.

She jerked away from her lookout, and only a quick glance stopped her from slicing on instinct. Kunal’s bright eyes regarded her with a heaviness. He said nothing, clearly waiting on her to explain her presence in the forest.

Esha’s mind raced as fast as her heart. She couldn’t deal with him right now. She had much, much larger things to worry about.

When she continued to remain silent, he spoke.

“What are you doing—”

“Shh,” she hissed back, her heart clenching. He had given away their position.

A menacing growl echoed through the trees, and Kunal’s eyes widened as he recognized the noise. His grip on her wrist grew tighter and he tried to pull her back behind him, unsheathing his sword.

Esha almost resisted, but took advantage of his protectiveness instead. One more barrier between her and the tiger lurking nearby. What did she care for a bronze-armored soldier?

She allowed him to shield her with his body, maneuvering her own knife into a killing grip. The tiger, its orange-and-black coat glimmering among the trees, bounded into the clearing without making a whisper. But it stopped, its bright yellow eyes darting between the two of them. The creature’s gaze seemed to hold eons of knowledge in its depths.

Kunal seemed to be waiting, but for what, Esha had no idea. It was almost as if he was entranced by the animal in front of them. Or the animal was entranced by him. That made no sense, though; a connection with animals was a gift only royals had, along with their shape-shifting blood. He must never have seen a tiger up close before.

Tigers were common to the forests of Jansa, and revered. At least once a moon a human would go into the forest to try to capture a tiger for good luck—only a few left with all their limbs intact.

Esha searched for a way out, noticing a somewhat cleared path to a patch of tall trees with slim branches. Perfect for humans, not for large tigers. She turned, the slightest of movements. It was enough that the tiger’s attention snapped to Esha, and it let out an ear-ripping shriek, a noise so unnatural it chilled Esha’s bones.

“Run,” she whispered in Kunal’s ear.

She didn’t bother to look back to see if he was following, but within seconds she heard his footsteps and heavy breathing behind her. The tiger let out another yowl and Esha pumped her legs faster.