I seek out the crescent moon, its silver illumination my only protection against the persistent night. I expect tears to come, to rise from a well of panic, but they, too, are frozen within me.

Gods, preserve me through the night. I repeat the plea until the sky lightens to dusky blue hues, and I utter a myriad of thanks.

The sunrise reveals grassy fields and a winding river. Chare is quick, even quicker than Tinley implied. We soar over the valley, trailing the River Nammu. Up ahead, a long line of vessels sail the waterway. My outlook brightens. We have found the Lestarian Navy. Deven and the others should be with them.

Ashwin yells for Tinley to pursue the vessels. She directs the falcon lower. Chare’s reflection zips over the river like a stream of fire. As we soar nearer to the last boat, a conch shell sounds. The sailors dash to their water cannons.

They don’t know who we are.

Tinley guides the mahati higher while Ashwin and I wave. Admiral Rimba stands atop the lookout platform on the lead vessel. He recognizes us and signals his crews to stand down. Seeing Indah’s father presses more guilt upon me. My hunger for soul-fire has passed, dulled by the numbness, but not my memory of what I did.

Chare lands along the riverbank. Tinley jumps down, and the falcon hunts for hares in the grass. I slide off and brace against the bird on rickety legs. Ashwin dismounts and rubs his sore thighs. He leaves his bearskin on to fend off the cool of the morning. The brisk dawn does not bother my already frigid fingers and toes.

The navy moors along the riverbank. Admiral Rimba comes ashore in his all-white uniform, Princess Gemi with him. She studies the large mahati falcon and her wild-looking rider with keen interest.

I scan the boat decks. “Where’s Deven?”

“His party wasn’t at the meet point,” Admiral Rimba replies, a lump of mint stuffed in his cheek.

A weight hammers down on me. Deven does not break his word. His search for Brac must have gone awry. Then why not send Natesa or Yatin?

Admiral Rimba chews the wad of mint in his mouth faster. “Where’s Indah?”

“She and Pons have gone to Paljor,” Ashwin replies.

“Paljor?” the admiral demands.

Tinley stiffens but keeps her back turned to us, giving her attention to her falcon.

“They’re safe,” I say, the last word sticking in my throat. I hope Indah is all right, but what if I hurt her more than I thought?

“Pons will look after Indah,” Ashwin says. He is so impatient to explain what happened, he misses the admiral’s granite stare. “Our meeting with the warlord was a farce. Hastin sent rebels to attack us, and the Samiya temple was destroyed. Chief Naresh saw the smoke and came to investigate. His daughter Tinley graciously agreed to fly us here. Indah and Pons have gone to Paljor to await word from Datu Bulan.”

“The rebels are still against us,” Admiral Rimba summarizes. “But you’re unhurt?” He has graciously extended his concern for his daughter to us, but I do not deserve his kindness.

“We are,” Ashwin replies, then answers more of the admiral’s questions. As he recounts our battle against Anjali and Indira, Princess Gemi interrupts him.

“You stood up to bhutas?”

“I defended myself and Kalinda,” Ashwin answers modestly. Princess Gemi considers him anew, raking her gaze over him. He clears his throat and resumes speaking to the admiral. “Any word about the imperial army?”

“Last we heard, they were nearing the desert. That was yesterday.”

I am pinned to my spot by panic. The army is ahead of schedule. They may already have reached Vanhi.

“We’ll arrive tomorrow,” the admiral says. “You may come with us, but I suggest you continue to travel by sky. The sea raiders are following a few leagues behind us.” Ashwin and I peer downriver but see no trace of Captain Loc or his vessel. “They thought you were aboard one of our ships. We’ve maintained a wall of silence to deflect their listening Galers, but they won’t have missed the mahati falcon. They’ll figure out you were never with us.”

“What . . . what will they do?” I ask.

“They have no means of flying, so they’ll probably continue to pursue us. Captain Loc isn’t one who gives up easily.”

Princess Gemi ventures up to the mahati and strokes her vibrant feathers. Chare peers at the princess and tolerates her touch.

Eluding the sea raiders is motive enough to fly, but Chare will also be faster than the navy. After a nod from Ashwin, I answer, “We’ll go with Tinley and meet you there.”

“I’d like to fly with you,” says the princess.

Admiral Rimba nearly spits out his mint. “Your father would disapprove.”

“I’m headed for the war front regardless.” Gemi strokes the falcon, undeterred. I look closer at her hand and see she has dyed the moon phases on her fingers. The henna marks match the patterns on her feet. “Can your falcon carry another rider?”

Tinley squints at her in distrust. “Chare can handle you, but it’s up to His Majesty.”

Gemi squares off with Ashwin. “You could use another bhuta.” Her tone lacks the confidence of her posture. It matters that Ashwin thinks enough of her to let her come along.

I would rather she not. We do not know what we will find in Vanhi. I cannot worry about protecting two royals. I have not performed a full test of my powers since the numbness has set in. My blue glowing fingers from last night have left me unsettled about what else has changed.

“We’re losing time,” Gemi presses.

“You may accompany us,” Ashwin says slowly, as though uncertain about his decision.

Gemi dips into a regal bow. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

I cannot decide whether to hit Ashwin in the arm or pat his back. He finally understands that Gemi has the right to make her own decisions, but I am impatient to find Deven. Having missed the meeting point, he would go to Vanhi, the next location where he is assured Ashwin and I will be. The princess had better not slow us down.

24

DEVEN

The explosions start just after dawn.

Our unit is already packed and hiking the path along the river. Quakes from the army’s assault on the city wall vibrate up from the ground. We all removed our disguises, leaving our scarlet uniform jackets and headscarves in the hut. When I woke, my fingertips were healed. I cannot figure out why my burns are gone while Opal’s are still healing, but it is a mercy I have no time to question.

I increase our pace uphill in the bare morning light. Natesa and Yatin keep pace with me. Opal lags some, but her pallor and posture have improved from yesterday. Her Galer powers are returning, so she listens for rebels.

The stone pathway ends at a low tunnel. The entrance to the mines lies in the shadow of the Turquoise Palace. I pause to light a lamp we took from the hut, and a chakram flies past me, nearly slicing my nose. The blade embeds itself in the wall.

All of us reel around, and the path beneath our feet drags us backward on a rockslide. Our backs hit the wall. Bands of hard dirt shackle our arms and legs.

The bhuta warlord strides down the steps to the river. Hastin’s deeply tan complexion is distinguished by patches of white hair at his temples. His gray eyes are hard as stones. Anjali accompanies her father, chakram in hand. Two more rebels in all-black uniforms trail them.

“Captain Naik, you insult me.” Hastin’s voice is gravelly, like pebbles roll in his gullet. “Did you really think you could sneak past us?”

I slant a glance at Opal. “I had hoped.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “My powers are returning slowly.”

“A bhuta?” Hastin asks, tipping back on his heels. “The demon rajah sent one of my own to spy on me?”

“We aren’t with the army,” Natesa says. “We serve Prince Ashwin.”

Hastin trembles the ground beneath us. “The demon rajah and the prince are the same. Both are out to destroy our world.”

A warning echoes in my mind, and my old suspicions manifest. “We were told you wished to unite with the empire.”

Hastin manipulates the stones around just me, pressing me into the wall. “I’ll never ally with Tarek’s heir or his kindred.”

“Are they alive?” I squeeze out.

“Concern yourself with your own inevitable death,” Anjali drawls.

Hastin releases us from our dirt confines. Opal falls forward onto her knees, residual grime in her bloodletting scars. Natesa helps her up.

“Take them to the wives’ wing,” Hastin tells his daughter and then points menacingly at Opal. “Don’t cause any trouble, or I’ll throw you in the dungeons.”

The palace dungeons are laced with poisons that dampen bhuta powers. Hastin’s reluctance to strip a fellow bhuta of her defenses is a courtesy he does not offer us mortals. His soldiers disarm the rest of us.

The warlord marches up to the palace. He must be holding us hostage for the same purpose he captured Tarek’s ranis and courtesans—leverage. Hastin hungers for the whole of the empire, and he intends to manipulate Kali and Prince Ashwin, or entrap them, into getting what he desires. We are alive so long as they are, which is comforting in a sense. If Kali and the prince were dead, we would be too.

Anjali yanks her chakram from the wall and pushes the rounded blade so close I can see my reflection in it. “Misbehave and you’ll lose your nose.” Yatin puffs out his chest, an instinctual reaction to protect me. Anjali’s blade comes even closer. My breath fogs the steel. “Keep your troops in line, Captain.”

She and her comrades herd us up the stairway to the palace wall. This section has no gate, yet one of Anjali’s men opens a passageway in the clay bricks with his powers. We pass through the temporary door into the palace grounds, and the Trembler closes it behind us.

The rebels prod us down a pathway through the garden. The untended flower beds are overrun with weeds. Palm trees molt dead fronds, and the topiaries need a trim, but the grounds are still verdant and smell of sweet citrus and flowers.