The Fire Queen (The Hundredth Queen #2)(27)

I drop my hands, my arms limp beside me. Ashwin is certain I will compete. Is this the arrogance of a prince, or has he inherited Tarek’s domineering will? I cringe from the thought. Ashwin’s intentions aside, can my aversion to violence and my abhorrence for diplomatic necessities justify my doing nothing? The fate of the Tarachand Empire teeters on the edge of a blade. Someone must stand up to Hastin. But even after witnessing Ashwin defend me against the guards, he is not the one. Only a bhuta can defeat the warlord’s Trembler powers.

Perhaps this is my godly purpose. Perhaps the gods are not finished with me yet.

Only one person can clear my confusion. I hurry to the balcony and throw open the door. Opal stands there, blocking my path.

“You shouldn’t go,” she says. “You’ll get caught.”

She must have been listening to my conversation with Ashwin. “Why didn’t you tell me my people had arrived?”

“Brother Shaan asked me not to.” Opal drops her gaze, her dark eyelashes resting against her reddened cheeks. “He wanted you to go with the prince tonight. He thought if you saw the state of our people, you would agree to compete.”

Brother Shaan is trying to coerce me into joining the trial tournament. Was Ashwin privy to this manipulation? The beginning of a headache shortens my reply. “I won’t leave my guards imprisoned. If you have any compassion for what happens to them, you’ll get out of my way.”

Opal opens and then closes her mouth, locked in hesitancy. Then, without a word, she steps aside and allows me to pass.

Kneeling at the banister, I find the vine from earlier. I shimmy down and land in the shadowy gardens, the sweet scent of hibiscus around me.

“Kindred,” Opal calls down quietly, chewing her lower lip. “Captain Naik is being held in a hut on the south end of the military compound. Guards are patrolling the other side of the gardens right now. Take the stairs to the jungle, and hurry. Night watchmen do their rounds every fifteen minutes. If you go now, you should miss their next pass.”

I nod at her, the only apology I can dig out of my anger, and dart through the hushed garden. Sneaking around the palace, I locate the stairs that lead to the base of the hill and down into the Morass. Cicadas chorus loudly, concealing my footfalls through the brushwood. The jungle night air is so thick with bugs I breathe through my nose to avoid swallowing them.

Outside the military encampment, near the wall where Deven’s cell should be, I hunker down in the ferns and memorize the path of the patrolling guards.

Ready . . . and go.

I dash into the clearing, leap onto a fallen tree for height, and jump off the log to the partition. Gripping the lip of the wall, I pull myself up and slide over to the other side. I land in a crouch and survey the still tents.

Dagger in hand, I sneak up to the boxy, windowless hut. No guard stands watch. I lift the crossbar over the door, open it, and slip into the darkness. An iron grasp clamps around my neck. My dagger is wrenched from my hand and held near my eye.

“You bruise my ego, using my own weapon against me,” I garble out.

Deven lowers the blade on a prayer. “Thank the gods.”

“You flatter me.”

He twirls me around and crushes me in a hug. “I haven’t stopped praying for your safety since I saw you fly away in Tarachand.”

“No one told me you’d arrived. Are you all right?”

He nods against my forehead. “You smell like home.”

I smile, and he presses his lips to mine. I link my arms around his shoulders and tuck my curves against him. In the dark, he is all warm arms, hard muscles, and satin lips. My hands roam to his back and find wetness. Deven hisses and pulls away. I light up my hand with my powers.

Blood.

“You’re injured.” My fingers glow hot in fury, and Deven backs away in fear. My powers are blinding in the darkened cell, scarier than they should be. I promptly let the light inside me fade, leaving just enough so I can still see him. “What happened?”

“My men turned me in,” he says, slumping against the wall. “Prince Ashwin ordered me whipped.”

“Ashwin did this? But I was with him all evening.”

“He commanded my sentencing.”

My temper brightens my hands again. Ashwin’s openness and thoughtfulness were a diversion, a manipulation to convince me to compete in the tournament. I wipe Deven’s blood off on my clothes. “You aren’t staying here. You’re coming to the palace with me. I’ll find you a healer.”

“I cannot leave. My men aren’t safe here. I cannot abandon them.”

My expression slackens. Deven wants to stay to look after the same men who turned him in?

“I betrayed the rajah, Kali.” His voice is so small it nearly shatters me. “I won’t betray them too.”

I cross to him and lift his chin. I do not miss his flinch when I touch him. “You opposed Tarek to protect me. Now let me protect you.”

Deven unpeels my dimly shining hand from his face and frowns at the faint number one on the back. “I heard about the trial tournament. You need to compete.”

My voice snags on a surprised breath. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“What’s to decide?” Deven strokes his thumb over my rank number, his lips pinching. “You wed Rajah Tarek. Your life belongs to the empire.”