The Tiger at Midnight (The Tiger at Midnight Trilogy #1)(40)

Esha thought of the report she had been unable to translate.

Could it have information on Vardaan securing an alliance? That would make the Pretender King happy, especially if he was planning on renewing war with Dharka in the near future.

Tana noticed Esha had gone quiet. “That’s all I know,” she said. Esha held a hand to the young girl’s face, making sure her vital signs were strong again.

“You’ve been posted here for a while. Do you know of any scholars who would understand Old Dharkan?” Esha asked, her thoughts returning to the report. It was the only lead she had now.

Tana shook her head. “There are only a few scholars left who the Blades can trust. But I do have a contact in Amali who I’d trust with my life.” The girl took out a small piece of paper and chalk, jotting a few notes. “As my thanks for letting me go.”

Esha raised her eyebrows at the information.

Amali. A small town deep in the northern Parvalokh region. She was familiar with it.

“You sure you don’t want to stay in service of the Blades?” Esha asked. Tana’s eyes went wide and Esha laughed. “It’s all right. I understand. But if you change your mind, just send a note to me.”

“Sorry for this.”

Tana’s eyes flashed in confusion before Esha dipped her hand into the sleeping draft and covered Tana’s mouth.

Tana looked to be only a few years younger than her, her face losing years in sleep. Not young for the rebels, but young. If she had another life to live—a small one, a happy one—who was she to stop her?

It could end up being a huge mistake, but something in Esha’s gut told her Tana would never speak of the Viper or the rebels again.

Esha watched the girl for a while, her breath rising and falling, before winding her way upstairs.





Chapter 26


Kunal had been trailing behind Rakesh for the past ten minutes, gripping the handle of his knife tightly as the other soldier led the way through the long, winding bazaar. He was getting dangerously close to a breaking point, and hoped, for Rakesh’s sake, that they found Laksh soon.

“He’s here, somewhere. I swear,” Rakesh said, turning back to toss a glance or two at Kunal, probably looking for a weakness or a failing on his part so he could break and run.

Kunal took a deep breath.

Focus hones the soldier into the keen edge of a blade.

The memory of his uncle’s words hit him hard. He would never hear his uncle’s wisdom again—never argue against his words of wisdom again.

Rakesh came to a sudden halt, ignoring the annoyed squawk of an old man who he had cut off. Kunal pulled up behind him and Rakesh winced, recognizing the tip of Kunal’s knife against the bottom of his spine.

Kunal’s heart unclenched at the sight of Laksh a few paces away. Laksh looked up at them as he brushed a lock of wavy hair out of his eyes.

“Nice to see you both,” he said, not a hint of surprise in his voice. Relief flooded through Kunal.

“What?” Laksh asked, looking between the two of them. He addressed Rakesh first. “Did you really think I didn’t know you were following me? You’re as tall as the western hills.”

Rakesh scoffed, his face turning red.

“And you. You shouldn’t be so glad to see me.” Laksh shook his head slowly, looking at Kunal. “I’m competition.”

Kunal’s brow furrowed. He turned around to clasp Laksh by the shoulder, who waved them over to the side of the road, away from the crush of people in the center of the bazaar.

“Glad to see you alive,” he whispered into Laksh’s ear. The corners of Laksh’s mouth tilted upward.

“I wouldn’t let Rakesh get rid of me that easily. I’ve known he’s been behind me since the last town, but I was able to slip him this time and pick up a nice poison for my knife. If he tries anything . . . ,” Laksh said, his voice low, but not low enough for Rakesh to miss.

Kunal smirked and looked behind him—just in time to see Rakesh holding a knife.

In an instant, Kunal disarmed him.

Speed was the one thing Kunal had that Rakesh did not. He shoved Rakesh against the nearest wall, knocking the knife from his hand. Rakesh choked on the cloud of dust that flew out around them.

Kunal smiled. “Truce? I’m feeling generous right now. No one touches each other until we’re all outside the city. Jansan’s oath.”

Rakesh’s eyes flashed murder, but Kunal saw him swallow hard. Laksh stepped forward and held out a hand, palm up.

“I would take it, soldier,” he said. “I guarantee you it’s the best option this one will give you.”

After a moment, Rakesh sighed. “Truce,” he croaked.

Kunal let him go and Rakesh straightened, dusting off his armor and pants. “Oath as Naria’s child. You’re witness, Laksh.”

“Now that we’re back to being one big, happy family . . .” Laksh grinned as the two soldiers glared at each other. He motioned them toward a stall selling long, curved swords and round iron shields and they moved back into the teeming crowd.

A cough came from Laksh, and Kunal realized his hands were still fisted, ready for attack. Laksh held out a fine-looking shield to Rakesh, whose eyes finally dropped that hunted-animal look.

“Not that I’m not happy to see your shining faces, but I’ve just met a beautiful girl and I’ve got to say, you both are a bit of a disappointment after that,” Laksh said. Rakesh folded his arms and leaned against the wooden post of the weaponry stall.