She won’t meet my eye as she plays with the sand. “I want to be wanted for me, not what I can do. Not what Belwar thinks I should do.”
But what someone can do as a witch or wizard is connected inherently to their talents, their desire to devote oneself to specific types of magic. Pink fortes are always a welcomed skill, especially when trained by our mother. Prisha will always have a place in society. But I guess that’s what upsets her. She doesn’twantto fit in. She believes pink fortes are inherently lesser, weaker, feminine. Gods, I never imagined how different we are. She’s so spoiled by her normalcy that she can’t see how good she has it or how important pink magic is to saving Belwar, saving everyone. Once the drugs are off the streets, we will still need to help the wizards and witches who are in withdrawal or have damaged Touches.
“Prisha, it’s only a one in nine chance you’ll become a pink forte.”
“I know, but…”
“And you would be more than a pink forte anyway. You are a Belwar.”
Prisha pulls at her choli.
“Don’t worry. You’ll— Wait, is that my sari?”
She has the decency to look down at the orange fabric guiltily. “Ah, maybe.”
A knot tightens in my stomach. Prisha knows my sleeping habits; she goes into my room unannounced and into my closet. What else could she have seen there? “Did Zara give it to you?”
“Not exactly.”
Gods, I thought she was past stealing my clothes a few years ago. “So you just took it?”
“I always return it before you wake up.”
Before I wake up? How often does she do this?
“That’s not the point—”
“You’re only worried I know where you go at night. But I already know about the cage-casting ring.”
A chill runs through me.She knows about the Underground? Does everyone know? Wait.“It was you. You told Riya I sneakout.”
She looks at me full-on. “Zara and Riya were frantic trying to find you when Maharaja Moolek showed up. I had to tell them.”
“How do you—”
“I followed you to that window door once.”
“You never said anything.”
She shrugs. “It wasn’t my business until last night. Actually, I’ve been covering for you on nights when Zara wants your opinion or Riya wants to talk.”
I don’t know what to say. “Thank you, Prisha. I—”
Footsteps echo on the temple stairs behind us. Prisha turns first and I see curiosity, then fear, grow in her eyes. I whip around. Maharaja Moolek stands by Wodahs’s pillar, a gleaming smile melded to his lips.
“I was hoping we could talk alone,” Moolek says to me.
“Prisha, go back to the palace.”
“Adraa—”
“Prisha, go. Now.”
With a few glances over her shoulder, Prisha steps off the temple stairs and disappears from my sight and, more important, from Maharaja Moolek’s.
He steps into the temple and I circle naturally.Don’t let him get close. Don’t show fear.
“You don’t have to be so worried about your little sister.”
