The Library of Fates(56)

I couldn’t bring myself to respond right away. My eyes scanned the magnificent caves, trying to take it all in.

Trees grew like webs, climbing up the rock face, creeping over the entrances to homes. On the far edge of the mountain, a waterfall pooled into an aquamarine lagoon where people washed their clothes or bathed. On various levels of the caves, stone balconies housed gardens with exotic-looking plants in hues of lavender, pink, turquoise, and yellow, and on every surface of the mountain, a silver dust: chamak. It glistened in the sun, making the entire city sparkle.

I saw Thala taking it in too, her mouth agape, a mixture of curiosity and fear in her eyes. I reached for her hand.

“It’s all right. We’ll be fine,” I assured her, but the very idea of Thala being surrounded by so much chamak made me anxious.

At the base of the vertical city was a bowl, a vast arena where all civic activity appeared to take place. A man watered a garden filled with varieties of fruit and vegetables I had never before seen. A woman wove white scarves from skeins of cotton thread. Children sat on swings made from the boughs of trees and linen-colored rope.

Finally, it was Thala who spoke. “It’s a . . . volcano. We’re inside a massive volcano.”

She was right. The Janaka Caves were built inside a dormant volcano, and within that volcano was an entire civilization that maybe no one from the outside world had ever seen. No one except us.

I turned to the woman. “You’ve been waiting for me?”

A youthful laugh escaped her lips. “We knew that one day you’d return, Goddess Maya,” she said as I glanced again at the mural behind her. “I’m Kalyani. You’re the first visitor we’ve had in years. Welcome,” she said, bowing before me.

“This place is . . .”

“Uncontaminated, exactly as it was when my people first came here hundreds of years ago,” she said, gesturing behind her. “Of course, anyone is allowed to leave, and many do,” she said to us. “But visitors are not very common. Oh, I forgot to mention—we received a dispatch for you yesterday. That’s the other reason we knew you’d be here soon,” she said, pointing to the edge of the lagoon where a flock of birds had congregated.

“Saaras!” I exclaimed, running over to him. I noticed a note tied to his foot. I hurriedly untied it and unfolded it open. I recognized the handwriting right away, and my heart skipped a beat.

Amrita,

I received a note from your friend Varun. He tells me (to my relief) that you are safe and on your way to the Janaka Caves. For your sake, I hope you trust him, because it is becoming increasingly difficult to trust anyone here.

I suppose by now, you’ve been to the temple and learned of your true identity. I wish I could explain to you why I never told you the things I knew. But your father wanted you to find out on your own, when you were ready.

Looking back, I was delusional to think that you and I might have had any kind of future together. Sooner or later, you would have learned who you are and found me unsuitable, unworthy of you. Our little plot to run away together, it was a mistake, all of it. I’ve forgotten it, and you should too.

My surprise at Arjun’s coldness must have registered on my face.

“What is it?” Thala asked.

I simply shook my head and continued to read.

You should know that Shalingar is now a colony of Macedon, and search parties have spread out across the kingdom, looking for you. Army units patrol Ananta, and people are being imprisoned for reading books, speaking Shalingarsh in public. Women have been told to stay indoors at all times. Shalingar will never be the same again.

“No, no, no!” I whispered.

“What is it?” Thala pressed, squatting next to me, reading over my shoulder.

You’re temporarily safe with the Sybillines, but eventually Sikander’s men will find the caves.

My parents are safe too, but we haven’t recovered from this series of tragedies that we never envisioned. I’m ashamed that I have no option but to do as Sikander instructs or he’ll hurt my family.

Please forget the past, Amrita. We have different roles now, we’re different people. You are Maya. Perhaps someday, somehow, you can bring hope to your people, though I don’t know what hope can do in the face of force.

Please never come back to Ananta. If you do, I’ll have no option except to turn you in to Sikander. I hope for this reason, and for both of our sakes, that we never see each other again.

Arjun

I felt anger, sadness, confusion, fear. I wanted to tear the letter up and scream. Forget what had happened? How could I? The letter made him sound like a completely different Arjun, someone who had been brainwashed by Sikander and influenced by grief.

I realized then that I hadn’t entirely given up hope in the desert. I had still believed Arjun and I would find our way back to one another, even if I never returned to Shalingar, even if I was no longer Princess Amrita.

But now I knew for certain that there was truly no way back.

I wiped tears from my eyes with the edge of my sleeve, no doubt smearing mud all over my face. I was self-conscious and didn’t want to draw attention to myself, but the tears poured down my cheeks as though there was no stopping them.

“He’s saying all that to protect you,” Thala said.

But it didn’t matter. Arjun’s words devastated me. Shalingar was gone; it was no longer the place I had known. And Arjun was gone too, or may as well have been. It was over, whatever had existed for a moment between us, extinguished by the harsh gale of reality.