The Library of Fates(41)

I didn’t want to listen. I couldn’t bear to hear those words again: She could die. “Where can we find one—a medicine man?” I asked, desperation in my voice. Thala’s head fell against my shoulder, her eyes closed. I tried to shake her awake.

“Thala.” I squeezed her hand. “Stay with me, please! I can’t lose you too,” I whispered. I unwrapped my scarf from my face, dabbed the sweat away from Thala’s forehead before I turned back to look at Varun.

He did a double take when he saw my face, and for a second, our eyes locked. I knew he felt it too, that strange electricity between us, a familiarity that neither of us could explain. I felt myself redden and turned my attention back to Thala.

“She’s going to be all right. We just need to get help,” I said with determination in my voice.

When I turned back to Varun, I noticed that his gaze was still fixed on me, as though he couldn’t look away. A series of emotions registered across his countenance: shock, morphing into tenderness. I wondered if he knew who I was.

“Not . . . a lot of medicine men in these parts,” he said softly, crouching down next to me, so close that I could feel his breath in my hair. There was hesitation in his voice, and the look on his face suggested that he couldn’t bear to give me bad news.

I looked up and down the path as I quickly wrapped my scarf around my head again. Varun reached to help me, his hand carefully tucking back a stray hair.

I tried to speak, but I was distracted by the way he looked at me and scared of the condition that Thala was in, too overwhelmed to think straight. Finally, I found my voice.

“We’re still hours away from Mount Moutza, and it’s a few hours back to Ananta,” I said to him.

I considered walking back toward Ananta, but I was afraid to leave Thala on her own in this state. What if Sikander’s men were making this very journey right now? What if they found her? In the condition she was in, there was no way she could defend herself. My hands were trembling, my heart racing with uncontrollable terror.

“Why don’t you stay with your friend? I can walk back toward the city,” he offered, gesturing down the road. “I’ll find a medicine man on my way. Perhaps there’s one making the journey to Mount Moutza right now.”

A wave of gratitude washed over me. “How could I ever repay you?” I asked.

He hesitated, but his eyes stayed on me. Finally, he smiled. “It’s my pleasure to help you, just as it’s my pleasure to have met you.” He pointed to the road ahead of us, toward Mount Moutza. “This road . . . it’s going to be filled with people all day. She needs a safe and quiet place to stay the night.”

“Where can we go?” I asked.

“Fifty paces ahead, you’ll see a break in the wall, a fork in the road, and from there, if you walk another fifty paces, you’ll see a forest. Look carefully and you’ll find a banyan tree as wide as an elephant.”

An uncontrolled laugh escaped Thala’s lips. “An elephant,” she repeated in a hollow voice that terrified me. Then her tone became serious. “I’ve never even seen an elephant,” she quietly added. “There’s so much I haven’t seen.”

Varun turned back to me, compassion in his eyes. “You’ll recognize it. Wait for me under the tree,” he softly said.

I nodded, lifting Thala up and wrapping an arm around her waist. My heart raced in panic as she fell against me like a rag doll. I grabbed her arm and threw it around my neck. “Your pilgrimage . . . ,” I said to Varun, realizing that there was no way he would make it to Mount Moutza by sunset now.

“It’s all right,” he said, touching my hand, sparking off an electric desire within me again. “Helping you is as good as making an offering to the Goddess,” he said. His eyes lingered on me for a moment as though there was something more he wanted to say. But instead, he turned and quickly took off. I watched him, overwhelmed by his kindness.

I turned my attention back to Thala, reaching for the end of her scarf, making sure it was securely wrapped around her face, covering her indiscreet hair.

“It was so short, my time. I wish I could have spent it all with my family instead of with those brutes,” she slurred.

“We’ll find your family, Thala.” There was urgency in my voice. I remembered Shree once telling me hope could literally keep a dying person alive. “Once you’re recovered, we’ll travel to Macedon. To your mother and your aunts.”

What I really wanted to say was: Don’t die. Please don’t die on me. If you die, I don’t know what I’ll do. I’ll be alone in the world. Instead, I held my breath and walked us to the edge of the forest, where I could make out a dirt path cutting into the trees.

“Promise me.” Thala’s voice was firm. She looked at me with clear eyes. She was lucid in that moment, as though something in my words had awoken her from her trance. “Promise me that if I live, you’ll come with me to Macedon.”

I swallowed hard. “I promise,” I whispered.

She smiled. “I can’t possibly die now, can I?” she said, but the way she slumped into my side made me shudder.





Eighteen



THALA SLIPPED IN AND OUT of consciousness. There were moments when she was incredibly lucid, and others when her eyelids began to droop, and I had to shake her awake, sometimes violently. My whole body was alert, looking for strangers, predators, Sikander’s men.