The Library of Fates(65)

When Makara opened his mouth, the sight that I saw startled me. A pale blue sky. Buildings so tall that they grazed the clouds. Vast, bustling arenas, avenues so wide that they could contain a thousand chariots.

“Macedon,” Thala cried, and I was stunned to hear a small sob escape her lips.

I hung back for a moment, taking it all in. I had never before left Shalingar. There was still a part of me that wanted to sidestep Makara, make my way through the tunnel to find a way back home. But my home no longer existed.

I remembered what Varun had said to me. Follow your will.

And in that moment, I felt a surge of that will, aching to make things right. I knew that if I could change the past, the future would follow.

“Why there?” Thala asked.

“We’re going to find Sikander, the boy my parents knew. Before he invaded Persia and Bactria, before his armies and his slaves, before he destroyed all those lives. We’re going to kill him,” I said.

Thala’s eyes were wide.

“Are you coming?” I asked.

Thala nodded and reached for my hand. I closed my eyes. Together, we stepped into the past. Behind us, Makara’s mouth closed, taking us away from the Janaka Caves forever.





Thirty-Two



“WATCH IT.” An elbow nudged me in the ribs, and I whirled around to see a girl my age with golden hair and determined eyes glide by me to join a long queue of young people. A row of tables flanked the top of the line, and behind the desks were adults in green uniforms, handing out leather satchels and books.

I looked around, taking in my surroundings. We were standing within a massive stone stadium with rows and rows of seats reaching the sky. Clusters of students my age stood in groups on immaculately trimmed grass. There was an electric crackle in the air, a heady excitement.

Beyond the crowds, beyond the stadium, I could see the tops of stone towers that reached the sky.

“I’ve never seen buildings that tall,” I whispered.

My gaze traveled to a row of Macedonian flags flanking one side of the stadium. Above them was a large banner that read:

MILITARY ACADEMY OF MACEDON

And then I put it all together: It was the first day of school.

“This is where my mother and father met . . .”

My father must be somewhere in this very stadium. I furiously scanned the crowds, my head turning this way and that. But it wasn’t difficult to identify him. In a sea of blond heads and pale faces, there was a young boy with dark hair and dark skin like my own. He was standing alone, carefully regarding a map.

“That’s him,” I whispered to Thala, my voice breaking. I quickly wiped the tears that formed at the corners of my eyes. “How do I . . .”

But Thala didn’t wait. She crossed the stadium, with me reluctantly trailing behind her.

Soon, we were standing before him. He looked up, taking us in. He was lanky, with the same dark wavy hair that I remembered, the same warm eyes.

“Hi,” Thala said, holding out her hand. “I’m Thala. This is Amrita. Are you a first-year too?”

He smiled, and another overwhelming wave of emotion coursed through me. I never realized what a relief it would be to see my father smile again, to be near him again. I willed myself to stay composed.

“I am a first-year,” he said to us. “Chandradev.” He reached for my hand. “You look familiar,” he said, furrowing his brow.

“She’s from Shalingar.” Thala raised her eyebrows, knowing that this would elicit a response from the sixteen-year-old version of my father.

“You are? Me too!” he said with such excitement in his voice that I had to grin. “I thought I was the only one. Is it . . . it must be your first time away from home too?” he asked.

“I’ve been away for a little bit,” I told him. “We’ve been . . .” I looked at Thala, carefully considering my next words. “We’ve been traveling for some time. But I . . . I already miss it so much. People tell me it gets better, but it hasn’t yet, at least not for me.”

He nodded. “I’m so glad you’re here.” He smiled. “It’s reassuring to know that there’s someone else from home at the Academy. It’s so different than anything I’ve ever seen,” he said, glancing around. I noticed his gaze landing on a girl about my height. She smiled at us. Her eyes were green, just like mine.

“We don’t know anyone here,” Thala said, glancing from the girl to Chandradev. “Have you heard that . . .” Now it was Thala’s turn to consider her words. “That the emperor’s son is in our class?”

Chandradev nodded, holding out a piece of parchment and showing it to us. “It says here that he’s supposed to be my roommate. Sikander is his name,” he said. “I was going to try to find him before the induction assembly.” He looked up. “I wonder which one he is.”

“Let’s go look for him,” I suggested, instinctually grabbing for his arm and tugging at him to come along with us, as I remembered doing with my father when I was younger.

We made our way across the stadium, introducing ourselves to new students.

“Do you know Sikander?” I asked again and again.

Everyone we spoke to was acquainted with Sikander, or at least with stories about him.

“I heard he knows every famous person in Macedon,” one girl quipped, while a boy turned to Chandradev and said, “You’re his roommate? Lucky you, he can get you into any party in the city.”