“I did see the victors’ match. That courtesan of yours, Fareeshah, is a master with the blade. The viraji will have to dirty her hands with a sword. A slingshot will not hold up in the arena.”

“Why don’t I use my fists—like a man?” I ask, with a pointed look at Jaya’s split lip.

Tarek strokes my arm to shush me. “See her spirit? My viraji is eager to battle. Now, Jaya”—my friend shrinks under the rajah’s full attention—“how are you enjoying your stay?”

“Very well, Your Majesty. Your gardens are lovely.”

“You should tour more of the grounds, see my execution yard.”

“I’m certain there are lovelier places for her to visit,” I say, laughing lightly.

“Are there?” Tarek’s question is meant to set me on edge. I want to parch him unconscious for threatening my friend. When will he tell me he has imprisoned Deven? What is he waiting for?

Chuckling to himself, Tarek inclines toward me. “Glare any harder and you will peel off my skin. Relax and enjoy the evening.”

I could no more relax there than in a den of wolves.

Servants set out a roast goose. Above us, the fire-washed sky cools to inky azure, and Tarek and the general discuss the tournament further. Jaya curls her hand around her supper knife and picks at her food. I try to catch her eye, but she will not look at me.

At the end of our tedious meal, Tarek wipes his mouth clean on a napkin and smiles. “I have arranged for entertainment.”

Jaya’s gaze jumps to mine. I know that look of fright. The last time I saw it, we were outside the temple when an avalanche started and she told me to run inside. But I have no time to run now. The avalanche has struck.

Into the atrium walk several imperial guards. Terror drives icy spikes into my bones. Between the guards, shackled in irons, is Deven.

28

Chains lock Deven’s wrists behind his back. His uniform jacket is missing, and his undershirt torn. His face is beaten nearly beyond recognition. The lips that kissed me this morning are swollen and bleeding. Yet Deven stands with his chin high and his gaze forward.

Behind him, floating on a cloud of arrogance, walks Lakia. The kindred is followed closely by . . .

Gods, no. Manas.

“Captain Naik, this isn’t one of your better looks,” says the rajah. Gautam chuckles, and I cut him a sharp look. That is your son. “I heard you were poking about the palace grounds. Find anything of interest?”

Deven stares straight ahead.

Gautam answers for him. “We caught the captain associating with a Burner.”

Panic drives a battering ram through me. Brac must have been captured as well.

“You wouldn’t be aiding the bhuta rebels, would you, Captain?” Tarek asks. “Not my most loyal of soldiers who roped me to a boulder when a Galer attacked. Not the man I trusted with my life and the viraji’s life.”

“I should have let you die,” Deven says, meeting the rajah’s gaze.

Tarek barks a sardonic laugh. “You will beg my forgiveness for that when you’re being crushed under a pile of rocks.” He clasps a hand on my shoulder. “The viraji will do the honor of casting the first stone.”

My heart dives to my knees. I would never stone Deven.

“The viraji is as guilty as the captain.” Lakia lifts a book in her hands. “This was in her bedchamber.” She lays Bhuta Origins before the rajah.

“That belongs to me,” Deven answers. “I hid it in the viraji’s chamber, on the bookshelf by the door.”

Tarek arches a questioning brow at Lakia, and she nods begrudgingly. That is where she found the book.

“You were hiding it for your bhuta accomplice?” Tarek prompts Deven.

“Yes, Your Majesty. The viraji did not know it was there.”

I cannot bear to listen. Why are you doing this? my eyes shout at Deven.

His gaze pushes back his answer. I have come to read his thoughts as well as Jaya’s, and I see his request clearly.

Save yourself.

He does not want me to put up a fuss. I am to let them drag him away, innocent in all except that he wished to be with me.

“Captain,” Tarek says, “for conspiring against the throne, you are hereby stripped of your military command and sentenced to death.” Tarek pours himself a chalice of wine in celebration, grinning like a lynx with a sable in its jaws. “Your execution is set for dawn.”

Deven licks his bloodied lip and says nothing, his gaze so far off that he could be across the desert.

Tarek watches me, waiting for a reaction. My instincts scream at me to scorch him to a pile of ash, but I still have no powers.

Tarek dismisses his soldiers with a wave, and they lead Deven away. My gaze claws at Deven, begging him to look at me, but he does not glance back.

“Rajah Tarek, thank you for the meal.” Gautam blots his greasy lips with a cloth. “Will you attend the captain’s execution?”

“The viraji and I will be there.” Tarek’s smile twists his ruthlessness deeper into my back. “And, General, I expect you will control your wife. One more slipup and she’s gone.”

Gautam bows his head. “I apologize again, Your Majesty.”

Jaya lowers her watery eyes. What happened? Was she caught with Deven and Brac? Is that why she cannot look at me? Was it her fault?

The general hauls Jaya up by the arm. They leave, and I notice her supper knife is missing. I last saw it in her hand. Admiration for her courage surges through me. Great Anu, protect her.

Lakia stays, Manas flanking her. He must have been involved in Deven’s capture. Deven warned me that Manas would report on him, but I did not want to believe that the empire would mean more to him than their friendship.

“Manas,” says Tarek, “your loyalty is commendable. I will arrange for you to visit the courtesans’ wing as thanks on my behalf.”

Manas bows in appreciation. I look away, sickened by him.

“Tarek,” Lakia says, her expression steaming, “what will the viraji’s punishment be? Manas reported she spent last night with the cap—”

“I will do nothing.” Tarek lowers his voice to a concise snap. “She is my champion. She will defend the throne in two days, and I will see her unharmed when she does.”

“You would wed someone who is unfaithful?” Lakia asks, eyes wide.

“I would wed her immediately if it would not enrage the gods. The tournament was instituted by Anu, and like his son, Enlil, my viraji will be champion.” Tarek takes me by the arm and drags me from the pavilion, his guards following.

I try to rip away, but he holds me fast. “You try my patience, love,” he says. “Two dozen women are willing to die for your throne, and you jeopardize it for a nothing soldier.”

“I never made any pretenses about wanting you,” I say, breathless from his swift pace. “I was never asked what I wanted at all.”

“I do not care for your pretenses or your wishes. I am the rajah. I am your intended. You will obey.”

Something fires through me, hot and fierce. My powers are back. But before I can use them, he tosses me through the doorway to my chamber. I find my balance and do not fall.

“Be grateful I fear the wrath of the gods,” he says, “or I would call off the tournament and wed you tonight.”

I clutch the front of my sari. No threat has terrified me more.

“Do not let her leave,” Tarek commands his guards. “Watch the door and balcony. Kill anyone who tries to get in. She stays here until I return.”

I slam the door shut and press my hands over my eyes. Deven. I picture him bruised and bloody in shackles. He has given up, but I will not. I cannot let Tarek execute him.

“How was supper?”

I drop my hands and see Brac step out from behind the balcony drapery. “Brac,” I breathe. “I thought you were imprisoned.”

He smiles. “I’m hard to catch.” A khanda hangs against his back, and an ax is slung on each hip. He looks intimidating, like the first time we met. “I’ve been waiting for you since you left for supper.”

I glance at the door, expecting guards to burst through any moment, and speak in a low voice. “What happened? How did Deven get caught?”

“We visited Jaya, and then Deven suggested we all go to Yasmin’s tomb. He thought since the rajah’s trying to bring Yasmin back, he would hide the book somewhere close to her. He said that’s what he would do if he were Tarek.”

My chest pangs at Deven’s thoughtful observation. I should have considered it myself. The day I wandered the gardens, Yasmin’s tomb had been recently opened.

“I waited outside the tomb, and he and Jaya went in,” Brac continues. “Manas followed us and brought more soldiers. I warned Deven they were coming, but he and Jaya fell behind.”

My hands itch to throttle Manas. “Does Hastin know? Is anyone else coming?”

Brac jams each word out from between tight teeth. “Hastin doesn’t feel Deven is worth the risk.”

“And Anjali?”

“Sides with her father. All the rebels do.”

I ball my hands into fists. Deven may not be part of our agreement, but I will not abandon him. Hastin can forget our bargain. Forget the Zhaleh. Forget the tournament. The bhuta warlord can kill the rajah himself.

“I’m getting Deven and Jaya,” I say. “We’re leaving tonight.” I grab Yasmin’s daggers from my bedside drawer. My hands heat up, fire boiling through my veins. I exhale a calming breath and will the rising heat to recede. I need every last cinder of my powers to break Deven free.

“I’m coming with you,” Brac says.

I pause to look at him. “But you’re with the rebels.”

“I’m with my brother,” he corrects, his gaze resolute.

I resist hugging him for staying and shove one dagger into the waist of my trousers. I add my slingshot and tie the pouch of firing stones to my side. “Tarek has the entries guarded,” I say.