The Library of Fates(44)

We circled back to it, and I must have spent another hour trying to drive my dagger into the wall, throwing my body against it. Still nothing. Finally, I collapsed to the ground in frustration, tears streaming down my cheeks, my palms covered with dirt.

“Please!” I said to the tree. “My friend is sick. She might even be dead. All I want is to help her. Don’t you understand? I need to help her!” I was sobbing by now at the thought of Thala dying, all because I couldn’t procure the antidote she needed.

Slowly, I pulled myself together and stood up, reaching my hand against the wall to catch my balance, and what happened next stunned me. The wall had disappeared, and I stumbled against the tree itself.

“How did that—” But it didn’t matter. With my dagger, I peeled off the tiniest bit of bark, and as I did, I noticed a drop of red rolling down the trunk of the tree.

“Is it . . . blood?” I asked Saaras.

I wondered if I was hallucinating as I added a pinch of the bark of the silver tree to the vial. It fizzed before it turned silver in the moonlight.

I still had a piece of bark in my hand. I tucked it into my blouse, in case I needed it later.

I looked at the tree. I felt the need to acknowledge its aid in some way. “Thank you,” I said, and its branches appeared to bow down before me, causing me to jump. I turned and ran all the way back to Thala.

There was dew on the grass by Thala’s feet, and I collected a couple of drops on my fingers, adding them to the mixture. This time, it gurgled. I opened Thala’s mouth, tipped her head back, and poured the contents of the vial down her throat.

“Please work,” I said to it, and then I remembered Varun’s note.

“Please, earth, sky, sun, rain, wind. Whoever is listening, whoever has the power to help. Help my friend stay alive,” I whispered. I couldn’t believe I was asking these forces to help me. It sounded like . . . magic, and yet, I was willing to do anything to make Thala better. “She’s been through too much.” I wiped my tears on the back of my hand as Saaras looked on.

I turned to him. “She’ll be all right, won’t she?”

I was drenched in sweat, stretched taut with a panic I had never before experienced, but I still had hope.

Saaras watched me carefully, and I couldn’t help but think that he knew what I was asking, that he understood. And for that moment, it was enough.





Twenty



I ROSE WITH THE SUN, questions burning on my lips, the journey ahead already unspooling within me.

“Thala,” I said aloud, remembering yesterday’s ordeal, her suffering, and my terror, and then in the same breath, I admonished myself. I couldn’t believe I had fallen asleep. I jumped up. Thala wasn’t under the base of the tree where I had left her.

“Thala?” I cried out. I circled the tree, finding her cross-legged on the other side of its trunk, petting Saaras.

She turned to face me. “Morning,” she said. “How did you sleep?” There were dark rings under her eyes, and her lips were cracked. But she was alive.

I exhaled slowly, the tightness within me finally loosening into relief.

“I wanted to let you rest,” she said, her forehead filled with concerned creases. “I think I’m . . . all right. Did you see this?” she asked me, holding up a satchel so small, it fit perfectly into her palm. “It’s herbs, for your feet. He had it tied to his collar.”

So Varun had noticed my feet too. I wasn’t sure what to make of the fact that he had saved us, sending us some sort of magical potion that had brought Thala back from the edge of death.

All I knew was that I wanted to see him again. It was as though I could feel some sort of magnetic pull toward him. I shook away the thought, remembering that just a few days ago, I was professing my love to Arjun.

I took a deep breath, and the strong scent of eucalyptus saturated my lungs. I looked around. For the first time, I really saw the forest. The entire day and night before, I had been so consumed by Thala’s state, I didn’t even see how beautiful it was. Tall, stately trees, their branches reaching toward the sky, their leaves delicate and long and papery. And the tree that had given us refuge—it was a special one, a banyan. I returned to it, running my hands over its long limbs—branches turning to roots, and roots reaching up to the branches. My hand stopped at the tree trunk, just above the ground. Someone had carved three equidistant circles, painted them red. They matched the symbol on my dagger. I traced the symbol with my finger.

“Let me put this medicine on your feet,” Thala said. “You should thank him, the boy who helped us,” she added, handing me the bit of parchment that was attached to the vial I had given her. I searched though my satchel, found a quill, and began to write.

Varun,

I don’t know how to thank you. Thala is alive and well. We’re headed to Mount Moutza and then beyond. I hope I see you again. You came to our aid when we most needed it, and I can never repay you.

I hesitated.

“What are you thinking?” Thala asked. She had covered my feet with leaves that she had moistened with the medicine from the vial. As she removed them, I gasped. All my cuts and scrapes were gone. But my attention turned back to the note in my hand.

“I . . . don’t know how much I can tell him.”

“Then send him this,” Thala said, pulling my diamond shoe from my satchel. “Tell him to get it to your Arjun.”