The Library of Fates(70)

Thala reached for my hand in fear, but the others simply laughed in delight.

I looked around. We were standing on an empty, flat rooftop. A string of white lights hung just above us. On the edge of the roof was a modest wood table.

“I’ll be right back, master,” said the guard to Sikander before he ran back down the stairs. By the time we were seated around the table, an entire staff of men had appeared, bottles of wine in their hands, plates of cheeses and breads and olives and sweets.

I looked out into the distance at a view of the ocean. In fact, there was nothing but ocean with a few dots of light scattered across it.

“Ships sailing away from Macedon. Sailors leaving behind their lovers and all that,” Sikander said.

“It’s . . . beautiful,” Chandradev said.

“I think so. I think you ought to trust me more often,” he said, grinning, placing his hand on Thea’s shoulder. Once again, she pulled away and turned to Chandradev.

“You know . . . I’ve always wanted to travel to Shalingar,” she said.

“Perhaps I’ll take you there one day,” Sikander said to her. “Maybe for our honeymoon,” he added causally as he poured each of us a glass of wine.

I began to laugh. “Your honeymoon?”

I looked around the table, waiting for the others to join me in laughter, but no one did.

“Yes, of course,” Sikander said with a hint of annoyance in his voice. This time, he placed a possessive hand on Thea’s elbow. “She hates talking about it. And half the time she hates me,” he snickered, but there was a hint of nervousness in his laugh. “But one day”—he turned to Thea—“you’re just going to have to accept it.”

“Accept what?” I asked, my heart racing.

“That we’ve been betrothed to be married since we were children,” he said. “I told you . . . just one large, bickering, warring, loving family.”

I looked from Thea to Chandradev. They both reached for their glasses of wine, avoiding each other’s eyes.

Thea downed her entire glass, and Sikander refilled it, spilling wine all over the table.

“Sorry,” he said without looking at her. “My mistake.”





Thirty-Four



I WAS STILL IN SHOCK by the time we arrived back at the dormitory, Thala and I sneaking into the stately stone building in the dark with the others. We silently followed Sikander and Chandradev to their room, exhausted from the night. Only I was more than exhausted. I was confused and unnerved by what I had learned.

So Thea had followed her heart, and in the process, Sikander had gone mad. My parents had separated, I had been left motherless my whole life, and my father had been assassinated. But that wasn’t even all of it. Sikander’s rage had caused him to destroy so many lives—Thala’s, the soldiers we had encountered in the desert, the citizens of all the empires he had overthrown, even his own subjects.

Here and now, he was simply an entitled party boy: well-connected, wealthy, and profligate, but ultimately harmless. But I understood that losing Thea must have turned him into a crazed despot.

In the chariot on the way back, I had been quiet, pondering what I was here for, and yet, every time I turned and caught my father’s profile or my mother animatedly told me something about herself, I felt overwhelmed with a kind of gratitude I never expected to feel. I was content, happy. Sitting between my mother and my father, I felt at home, loved, almost moved to tears. I had found it—the simplicity of being with my parents and enjoying their company, the feeling of family. The strange thing was that when I saw the way that Sikander interacted with them, I realized that he had once been a part of their family too, that he considered them his own.

I knew that I couldn’t kill him.

But I didn’t know what else to do.

¤

“We’ll see you in the morning.” Sikander yawned as he and Chandradev headed into their room. Thea hugged us before she took off.

“I’m so glad you’re both here.” She smiled. I watched her walk away, realizing that it was just Thala and me again.

We walked to the end of the hallway together and turned a corner, finding an empty spare room with two beds, two desks, and two chairs. A bare window overlooked the campus.

Thala collapsed on the bed. “At least we have a place to stay the night.”

But I was furious at her. “When were you going to tell me?”

“I didn’t know.”

“You know everything, Thala. How did you not know that Thea and Sikander were betrothed?”

“Does it make a difference?” She sat up to face me. “You still have to kill him, Amrita.”

“You told me he loved Thea! Not that they were betrothed!”

“He does love her.” I continued to glare at her, and finally she sighed. “Amrita, I can’t see the future anymore. Or I should say, I can’t see it from here. I didn’t know about their betrothal. I can’t see what happens to Sikander. That’s why I said what I did when he asked me about the future. Coming back here . . . it’s done something strange to my abilities.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’re actively rewriting the future now because we’re rewriting the past. I don’t know what the consequences might be. I can see hundreds of different possibilities.”