The Tiger at Midnight (The Tiger at Midnight Trilogy #1)(80)

The third time he awoke, he was more lucid, and it lasted longer.

He was weak, but he no longer burned. A faint screeching sound filtered through his mind and he could raise his hand and pinch the bridge of his nose to block it out.

The entire room was lavishly decorated in vivid tapestries of gold and silk. The vaulted marble ceilings made it look cavernous and he saw that the room was of gray granite.

Last he remembered, he had been in the forest, an arrow in his arm. And Esha had given him up to the rebels. If that was the case, why wasn’t he dead?

He lifted himself up onto his elbows. In the corner, a small figure was curled up into a ball on a long brocaded chaise. Esha was wrapped in a thick red blanket.

“She’s been here for days.”

His head whipped around and he grimaced from the immediate pain. He reached up instantly to massage his neck. The burly boy who had pinned him down sat to the side of his bed, sharpening his curved blade with long slides of a stone.

Now he knew what that sound was. Kunal rubbed the side of his face, his hands scratching through a newly trimmed beard.

“I don’t know what’s so special about you or why she wanted to keep you alive. I voted to kill you.” The boy grinned at him. “Though you seem like you could be brutal in a spar. Do you have training courts at the Fort? Large ones with maces and spears? Archery targets?”

Kunal was too confused to do anything but nod.

Esha had been here for days?

“I hate the Pretender King and all of you Fort soldiers. And pretty much anyone who thinks the Pretender is anything other than a piece of filthy, heaping rubbish,” the boy continued.

Kunal focused in on the boy’s face—it was interesting, sharp eyes in a broad face. He would’ve been a great soldier. He was strongly built, with a thick neck and strong hands.

“Oi—are you eyeing me? I’m sorry to say, but I’d never be interested in a Fort soldier. But yes, if you were wondering, I could snap your neck with these hands. I’m the strongest of the team—I even carried you here.”

Kunal thought he muttered, Though I don’t know why. The boy snapped his fingers in front of Kunal’s face.

“Do you speak?”

Kunal groggily tried to snap out of the haze of thoughts he had been getting lost in.

“Yes.”

It was a horrible sound, as if chalk met sandpaper and dragged against metal. Kunal decided to try a question. The boy seemed talkative enough—maybe he could make a friend despite his protests of hatred.

“How long have I been out?” Kunal thought carefully. “Why am I here?”

The boy raised an eyebrow at him. “I honestly wish I knew the answer to the last one. The other soldier we found is down in the dungeons. But not my place to say. I don’t need to get in the middle of whatever spat Esha and Harun are having.”

Kunal had meant why this room and not the dungeon, but tucked the nuggets of info away for later. Harun? Kunal had heard the name before and it rankled at the edges of his memory, a sour note in a song.

The boy continued talking. “I can tell you that you’ve been out for almost a week.”

Kunal started at that. A week. A week of his life gone, disappeared into vapor.

“Oi, soldier with the weird eyes.”

“They’re not weird,” Kunal snapped.

The boy grinned, like he was beginning to like Kunal. “You look like a cat with those pale eyes of yours. Cat-eyed. That’s what we call people with your color eyes in Dharka.”

Kunal shook his head, thinking his nickname could have been much worse.

“Anyway, cat eyes, stop looking at her like that. She doesn’t deserve your anger. Without her fighting for you, we would have left you in a dead heap of bones back in the forest. You might be annoyed she revealed you’re a soldier, but it’s the only thing that saved you—your potential usefulness.”

It registered in Kunal as truth, despite the anger and betrayal he had woken up with. It wasn’t logical, and he had no ground to stand on, but Kunal still couldn’t shake the feeling.

He flicked his head up, rubbing his forehead again.

The boy stared at him, the candor and grins gone, as if he were trying to figure out the secret of Kunal.

Kunal wished he knew too.





Chapter 54


Kunal woke from a fitful sleep, plagued by images of a snake with dangerously beautiful chestnut eyes.

Last time he had woken up, there had been vague sounds in the background, low words, soft shuffles of feet. But now there was only silence.

Kunal eased himself into a seated position, muscles screaming as he rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm. Today was the first day the burning was gone. His muscles still felt like an achy mass of coiled nerves and tissue, but there was no burning. And for that, Kunal could’ve gotten on his knees and kissed the floor.

Carefully, he scooted out of the bed and tried standing up. The ground held, but his legs wobbled and he fell back heavily on the bed. He winced, feeling pain down his back as if he had been sliced open.

The pain was so different from the burning he had felt for the past week that he reached around, tracing his shoulder blades with his fingers. Jagged cuts ran down his skin. He paused, his fingers stilling.

His heart seized in terror, the memory coming at him quick.

He had turned into an eagle. In the forest.