Page 106 of Heart of Night and Fire

Then he leaned in, his jaw hard, and his mouth pressed into a line. He was raging, his gold-flecked eyes a simmering, roiling vortex. Zarya was paralyzed, unable to do anything but stand there gaping at him.

“You,” he snarled, the sound like fury and fire and lightning, his voice so low only Zarya could have heard. “How the fuck have you been entering my mind?”

THIRTY-SEVEN

What? Zarya’s brow crumpled with confusion as she struggled against both Rabin’s grip and his fury.

“Let go of me,” she snarled, pressing her free hand to his rock-solid chest, trying to shove him out of her space. What was his problem? She hadn’t been entering his mind. If anything, she could blame him for entering hers. The way she couldn’t get him out of her head couldn’t be natural.

She knew she’d been deluding herself and that forest had to be the product of some kind of wicked power. But she understood almost nothing about her own magic, and his conviction had planted nagging seeds of doubt.

“I didn’t do anything,” she hissed, bewildered by this abrupt shift in his demeanor. The last time she’d seen him, he’d nearly kissed her. Or so she had wanted to believe.

Once again, she attempted to wrench herself from his grasp, and then fell still. The air around her twisted. Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe as her ribs contracted, and something jagged spiraled straight to her toes like she’d swallowed an iron burr. It was a presence borne of what haunted Daragaab’s darkest corners every night. One molded into sharpened talons that were gleefully tearing this place apart.

Another piercing shriek carried on the night as every head swung towards the sound, this one undoubtedly closer than any had been before. Zarya’s blood turned cold, clogging her veins.

“They’ve broken through the walls,” she whispered, understanding with alarming certainty that something very, very bad was about to find them.

Rabin swung around to look at her as his grip softened. “What?”

“They’re coming.” She said it louder now. “In the sky.”

He stepped back without dropping her wrist, scanning the area above.

Overhead, black shapes were filling their view, swooping and diving straight for the startled guests. It all happened in slow motion as realization sunk in. There was a pause, inertia holding everyone in place, the unholy sounds echoing against the night before awareness clicked like a lock breaking open.

Suvanna had called it the darkness and Koura had refused to name it.

But whatever it was, it had just arrived to claim them all.

Kindle jumped up on the ledge of the center fountain and shouted, “Everyone take cover!”

That’s when panic erupted.

“The kala-hamsa,” Zarya said, recognizing the scarlet-plumed birds. “The eggs. They must’ve hatched.”

“We must protect the princess,” Kindle said, spinning around, searching for Amrita. If anything happened to her, they would all surely be lost.

On the far side of the garden, Vikram was already throwing orders at his soldiers to secure the area and protect the guests. Zarya noticed their hesitation as they looked to Rabin for a heartbeat before they moved to obey Vikram’s commands.

Vikram seemed to have noticed it, too, his expression turning acidic before he selected four guards to escort Amrita to safety and another six to shield his mother, as well as Diya and Vamika. The women compressed themselves into a huddle, picking up their long skirts before they ran for their lives.

Like the eggs they’d hatched from, the kala-hamsa varied in size—some like eagles and others like doves. They used their sharp beaks and talons to shred clothing, grab hair, and gouge into skin as guests screamed in their attempt to scatter for cover.

A whoosh and a thump vibrated through the garden as an elephant-sized kala-hamsa landed in the center of the chaos, its eyes glowing red and its plumage ruffling with bright green, blue, and yellow feathers.

Then it stretched out its neck and let out a shriek so loud and penetrating that Zarya winced at the pressure on her eardrums. She sucked in an alarmed breath as it swung its enormous head and looked directly at her and Rabin.

Rabin yanked Zarya behind him while drawing his sword, swinging at its head in one fluid movement. His blade bit into flesh, slicing deep, spraying a shower of black blood as it screamed again, so loud the foundations shook. A shudder rolled over its feathers before it launched itself back into the air, shrieking and cawing as it circled overhead.

This was one of the few times Zarya had gone anywhere without a weapon since she’d arrived in Dharati, and she uttered a curse that she’d been caught unprepared. She scanned her surroundings, finding a fallen guard screaming for help while a kala-hamsa pecked at his face.

She lunged for his abandoned sword, scooping it up and cleaving her blade through the bird’s neck. It exploded in a shower of dark ichor, the two halves of its body landing with a splat.

Breathing heavily, she looked around, the sour taste of dread coating the inside of her mouth. The garden turned into a nightmare, the stench of blood and fear filling the air.

“You should take cover in the palace,” Rabin said, coming up behind her and grabbing her arm, his grip firm. “Go with the princess. Run.”