The Library of Fates(74)

“I love you,” she said. “And I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you the way I should have,” she said.

I couldn’t fight back the tears that flowed easily from my eyes. We both cried, together, for all that had been lost, in this life and in that other life. And we cried because I think we both understood that there was no life without loss.

But mostly, we cried because through some great mystery of the universe, through forces beyond our understanding, we had been returned to each other, and for that, I was grateful.

The sun was rising over campus now, and it was a new day: an opportunity for another future.

But I was thankful just for this moment.

“I love you too, Mama,” I said before I reluctantly let her go.





Thirty-Six



I MUST HAVE SLEPT the entire day, because it was dark by the time Thala woke me up. I had no energy; I felt as though I was made of air, like my bones were glass.

“How did it go?” she asked, slowly sitting down beside me.

“We spoke for a long time,” I said, “About . . . everything I could think of.” I turned on my side to look at Thala.

She closed her eyes before she opened them again. They were gray, and I watched her as she spoke.

“I can see again. It’s like the future is forming, becoming more solid. Thea and Sikander won’t have children of their own,” she said, as though this was some sort of consolation. “They’ll be together for some time . . . many years. Sikander will inherit the throne organically, after his father dies a natural death. He’ll have been so influenced by Thea that he’ll be a benevolent, kind ruler, beloved by his people. Thea knows what she wants for this nation. She and Sikander will build schools and hospitals. They’ll tax the rich, make sure the poor are taken care of. She’ll start a movement to empower women. This is her chance to make Macedon the kind of place it should be. And Sikander will carry out her will. This is all wonderful for the people of Macedon. And the people of the world.”

I nodded, but I didn’t feel happy. I came here to do what I needed to, but it had left an indelible scar on me. Perhaps there wasn’t a version of life that one could sail through unscarred, but I felt as though I knew too much, understood too much, had seen too much of the complexities of the world.

“And my father?”

“He’ll marry eventually. But many, many years from now. He’ll go back to Shalingar and rule the way he was always meant to. When he dies, he’ll leave the throne to Arjun, whom he’ll treat like his own son.”

“Arjun.” I smiled. Arjun felt so far away now, as though I had known him a lifetime ago. I didn’t even feel as though he was mine anymore. And he wasn’t. We had forged entirely separate paths. The probability that he would eventually meet someone else, love someone else, smarted only slightly. I knew he was the very last thing I had to let go of, and once I did, perhaps another world waited for me beyond my own attachments.

“It’s all because of you, Amrita,” Thala went on. “You’ve saved your kingdom. You’ve saved so many people. You’ve . . . undone years of war, of slavery, of injustice.”

Still, I felt unconvinced and depleted. “Imagine if I had actually killed Sikander . . . none of this would have been possible.” The nearness of that version of events was chilling.

Thala shrugged. “But you didn’t. You did the right thing.”

I thought about the last couple of days. I had traveled to the place of my birth. I had gotten to know my mother. I had spent time with my father again. I had done more than just the right thing. My heart was full, even though I was a different person now.

“Now there’s the matter of my own fate,” Thala added.

“What do you mean?” I asked. “Sikander won’t come find you in the woods now, he won’t kidnap you or break apart your family—”

“We’re not . . . real, Amrita.”

I looked at her quizzically.

“We came here to do what we have to do, but if we keep hanging around here, then we become vetalas ourselves.”

“I don’t understand.”

“When my mother has a child, a few years from now, it won’t be me. It’ll be another child. Because I’m here, in this odd, in-between space. And so are you. We don’t . . . belong here.”

The reality of her words hit me hard. Varun, I realized, sitting up. That was why he had followed us into the past. Perhaps he had even led us here. Either way, we still weren’t done, not quite yet, but only Varun could show us our fates now.

¤

The moon was low in the sky when we arrived at the base of Mount Spinakis, and we hiked all the way to the top in the silver light, taking in the blanket of stars above us. The bright lights of Macedon sparkled beneath us, and chariots whizzed this way and that on the Avenue of the Gods. I looked at the river that we had raced across, the campus where I had met Thea and Chandradev and Sikander. I took in the sight one last time, and smiled.

I didn’t know where I was going, but just being up here was somehow freeing. I realized that I didn’t really belong anywhere or to anyone anymore. Not Sikander or my father or my mother. Not Arjun either. I had somehow become my own person.

“Ready?” Thala asked.