The Tiger at Midnight (The Tiger at Midnight Trilogy #1)(90)
Esha put aside her curiosity about this man who was obviously Arpiya’s kin for a moment and followed him around the table, tossing a questioning look at Arpiya. Arpiya just smiled. The blazing warmth of the kiln had started to make her sweat, and she pulled at her sari to get some air. He noticed and chuckled.
“You get used to it after a while.”
The blacksmith indicated that they should come closer. Esha moved to his side and almost gasped at what was in his hands.
He held the most beautiful curved gold bracelet, one that was a perfect replica of the valaya she had been gifted by her parents when she was a child. Esha reached out, unable to hold back, to caress the smooth metal of it. He had even gotten the clasp right, a small snake engraved on the underside.
“It’s yours,” Arpiya said simply. Esha picked it up, cradling it gently. “A gift from Harun. He wanted to bring you here, but I made him let me. He stuck me with the recruits after all, so I figured he owed me.”
“It’s beautiful,” Esha breathed. She marveled at the valaya. She had never replaced it after she lost it on a mission. It hadn’t felt right, plus it had given her the ability to pass as whoever she needed to be for the rebels.
On the inside was an inscription written in Old Dharkan.
Never afraid.
Her father used to whisper those words to her at night, her own personal chant to keep away the monsters and terrors from her sleep. She was surprised Harun remembered.
“You deserve it.” Arpiya cleared her throat. “Even if things didn’t go the way we planned, you were willing to risk your life and freedom for our cause. It was Harun’s idea, but it’s from all of us.”
Esha looked up at Arpiya in gratitude, clasping the bracelet onto her wrist. Her heart surged with affection for her rebel family.
Something wasn’t clear, though.
Why were they here, underground? Who was this man who had created her gift?
“Do you remember how I mentioned my brother, Chakor, was coming to Mathur? Well, he’s taken on the role of our lead blacksmith as we build out the second base,” Arpiya said, her voice almost shy at first.
Esha smiled, understanding. She reached out and grasped his shoulder. “Welcome to our family, Chakor.” His tentative smile broke into a broad one that overtook his face.
“And this will be the entirety of the second rebel base?” Esha asked.
Arpiya nodded. “The front part will become a storefront or a home of some sort. We’re still working out the details, but I wanted to show you.”
“Good work,” Esha said as she dragged her fingers along the wooden worktable beside her.
She had missed so much over the past moons since she had left for this mission. Esha had fought hard for the better part of the past half year to have this base. Their current base in the palace was secure, but its presence constantly put Harun and the royal family in danger of discovery.
It would be much easier to keep an ear to the ground outside of spiraling marble walls. To be on top of news and maybe prevent what had happened to her, being taken unawares and framed. After weeks of uncertainty, Esha finally was on solid ground. Back on the offensive, no longer on the run.
Esha pulled at the pleats of her sari, lifting them up as she stepped over various finished maces and short swords cooling on the floor. She tugged the whip out of her waist sash and placed it on the table.
“Chakor, this is between us three—on pain of death. Someone made this replica of my whip and used it to frame me in the eyes of the Fort. I’ve spent moons away from home, being chased for a good part of the time. I want to know where this might have been made.”
His face remained enviably still even as he nodded, but the tension along his jaw gave his unease away. It made Esha like him more.
She watched him while he worked, examining the heft and shape of the replica, eyeing it under a large piece of refracted glass and feeling it in the grip of his hands.
Though her feet were on solid ground, Esha felt as if she were walking a tightrope, hoping to all the gods that he would say it wasn’t made in Dharka.
They already knew they had enemies outside, but wasn’t that better than those within? She couldn’t keep looking at and talking to everyone within the base as if they had something to hide. It was slowly breaking something inside her.
Chakor was melting down the hilt now, examining the liquid metal with scarred hands that looked at ease in the glow of the kiln. He turned to face them both.
“This wasn’t made in Dharka, if you were worrying. Definitely not in Mathur, and not by any rebel-associated blacksmiths. I know all of their signatures as well as the metals and alloys they use.”
The relief hit her like a shock wave. Arpiya put a hand on her shoulder, her friend sensing what this meant to Esha.
Chakor’s face didn’t look pleased, though, his mouth still a straight line.
“The alloys used in this replica, which are lighter than what we have here, are only traded to certain areas of Jansa. Those that are close to maritime trade routes with the far west,” he said.
His face loomed bright even in the darkness of the underground smithery as he moved closer.
“Whoever made this, made it in the Blood Fort.”
Chapter 58
Kunal strode quickly toward the training grounds, watching the sun pulling itself from the grasp of the horizon.