The Tiger at Midnight (The Tiger at Midnight Trilogy #1)(67)
Esha stilled for a languid moment and took in a deep breath; she could smell Dharka again. Jasmine and mango. Banyan trees mixed with taller trees throughout, making the jungle appear as if it were on stilts. Home.
The janma bond here was still alive; you could sense its vitality in the way the small streams of water sparkled and the hornbills swarmed together, cackling to themselves. Animals roamed around, living in harmony, one with the land. The thought that it might fade, be reduced to the dried-out forests and hill towns of Jansa, cut her deep.
She shook her head, unwilling to consider the possibility. At least Vardaan hadn’t found Reha yet, hadn’t found the heen rayan mentioned in those reports.
Esha frowned. Not that they had found her either—or a solution to fixing the janma bond.
The rebels would meet her tomorrow farther into the jungle, close to the secret trail near the Mauna Valley that cut through the Ghanta Mountains. It was the only way around the closed borders—everywhere else was certain death.
She had to stay alive and out of harm till then.
The words in the note loomed over her as she continued her journey.
Chapter 42
The depth of night was upon him but Kunal rode on, using the stars dotted above him as guidance in his path north. Time was of the essence and Kunal refused to let Rakesh win—or let Esha get hurt. For the first time in his life, he had no plan—but he felt propelled forward by something bigger than himself.
He patted his mare’s neck as they galloped, soaring over the ground. The air lashed his face and the ends of his turbaned uttariya flew in the air behind him. Kunal leaned in, murmuring words of encouragement into the mare’s ear. The night air was a breezy gauze, cool yet comforting against his skin. It belied the roil inside him.
The girl at the inn had proven useful, relaying the rest of Rakesh’s boasting. Rakesh knew enough of the truth to get himself killed if he did find Esha. Something told him she wouldn’t leave that particular soldier alive.
But he couldn’t wipe the image of something horrific happening to Esha at Rakesh’s hands—he was a soldier, and trained as such.
A shiver trailed through Kunal. He had watched the soldiers leave the camps at night when campaigning and return with bloody knives and grins on their faces. He had never spoken up, deciding to ease his own path rather than fight for another’s.
As a grown man, he couldn’t claim powerlessness anymore.
He spurred his mare on.
Chapter 43
Esha heard the whinny of the horse before she saw it from her spot high in the asvattha tree. The sky was gray, a harbinger of the storm to come. A few hours later and the early morning sky would be clouded and forbidding. Even now, a mist blew in, covering the mountain’s forested slopes with a silvery, opaque haze.
Kunal was a disheveled sight, his turbaned uttariya unraveling and his dhoti dusted with sand and grime. Why in the name of the Moon Lord’s spear was he here?
She swallowed a frustrated groan. Did she have to physically hurt him for him to get the message?
As he walked into the jungle, she scrambled to a closer tree, leaping and snatching a branch, rolling herself around it to land nimbly. She leaned forward; his expression was wild and he looked desperate.
The branch snapped in displeasure at her weight, the sound like a shriek in the stillness of the morning. His head whipped up. Not even the trilling blue robins were singing their song this early.
Biting back a curse, she swung herself down through the aerial roots of the asvattha tree, landing on the floor of the jungle, leaves crunching underfoot. Kunal started but showed no surprise.
“I didn’t think it would be this easy to find you,” he said wryly, rubbing his head as if in pain. He looked relieved and it made her blood boil.
“What are you doing here, soldier?” she hissed. “I warned you.”
She had let him live, had even given him a way out, and now he was back? How could he be that desperate to make a prize of the Viper?
Well, she wouldn’t allow it.
“I came to—”
Esha pushed him roughly against the trunk of the tree, watching with satisfaction as he winced. But he didn’t struggle. Slowly, he put his hands up, holding them out.
“I will kill you, Kunal. I don’t care about whatever might be going on between us. If you make one undue move, I will wrap my whip around your neck and drive my knife into your ribs before you even draw in a single breath. And I won’t feel the least bit of remorse.”
She could hear the fear in her voice but she couldn’t help it. The words came out rough, spears of truth. Without his spell around her, Esha had seen with clear eyes what she still had to do.
“Am I allowed to speak now without you threatening me?”
Esha snorted. “The day I don’t threaten you is the day you’re already dead.”
He gave her a crooked smile. “Good to know. But I came to tell you something.”
Esha cocked her head at him, wondering if she should trust him. He had come after her, even though she had told him to go.
Which could mean he still wanted to be commander badly enough to capture her—and her freedom could be at stake. That was too much to gamble. She would have to knock him out and run to the low pass to escape.
Esha backed off a step, lowering her knife.
Kunal dropped his hands and she took advantage of his momentary pause. She rammed into him and stepped on his insole, driving her elbow into his side. He groaned but blocked her next blow by grabbing at her elbow. But she was too fast and all he caught was the back of her cotton shirt, which tore away at her shoulder.