Page 5 of Heart of Night and Fire

Aarav returned to the garden a moment later. “His sword is still here.”

A worried line formed between Zarya’s brows. Row rarely went anywhere without his sword.

Aarav had his own weapons clutched in his hands now. He buckled on his talwar before heading towards the stables.

“Where are you going?” Zarya asked, trailing behind.

“To look for him. Something is wrong.”

They came to a stop when they saw that Row’s horse, Ojas, was also still there. While Row could use magic to travel quickly, something felt off, uneasiness settling over them as thick as the air after a monsoon.

“I don’t want to stay here alone,” Zarya said, her eyes fixed on Ojas as worry tickled the back of her neck.

“You stay here alone all the time.”

She ground her teeth. “Yes, but this is different.”

Aarav hoisted himself onto his horse and peered down at her. “You can’t come with me. You know that.”

“Break the tether,” she said, clenching her fists in the fabric of her kurta. “Release me from this. I’ll come with you. I can help.”

Aarav pinned her with a hostile glare.

Both Row and Aarav were Aazheri—a sect of nearly immortal mages who wielded five different branches of elemental magic: earth, air, water, fire, and spirit.

Zarya understood little about how it all worked, but what she did know was that Row possessed a deep well of power, while Aarav’s magic was a shallow puddle in comparison. That meant he was incapable of severing Row’s enchantment, and she wanted the words to sting.

Aarav had spent their lives holding his gifts over her, and she felt no remorse about reminding him that while he might have magic that was stronger than hers, he still wasn’t very powerful amongst his kind.

She imagined it was part of the reason he was such a complete ass.

He didn’t respond, instead throwing another dark glance her way before kicking his horse into a trot and heading into the blighted forest.

“When are you coming back?” Zarya shouted, but Aarav disappeared into the shade of the trees without another word.

She watched him go, wishing yet again that she wasn’t bound to this tiny strip of land. Gods, how she hated this. With a cry of frustration, she stormed back to the house, throwing herself on the living room’s plush divan with her arms folded, while she stewed in the mire of her indignation.

She spent the day pacing, listening for sounds of Row’s or Aarav’s return. But as night fell, an uncomfortable restlessness began to set in. If Row really had met his end, what did it mean for Zarya? Would she be trapped here forever?

The walls of the cottage grew oppressive, closing in on her in a way that felt all too familiar. Sometimes the suffocating weight of her confinement sat so heavy on her chest she struggled to draw more than the shallowest of breaths.

Deciding she needed more air, she grabbed a blanket and a bottle of plum wine and headed outside.

White crystalline sand lined the shore where she laid the blanket before sitting down with her legs crossed. She uncorked the wine and drank it straight from the bottle, staring out at the sea.

The sun was setting over the horizon now, the sky a smeared wash of oranges and pinks. Before long, stars twinkled overhead.

Zarya looked over her shoulder, peering into the dark, listening intently for sounds of her guardian’s return. Thankfully, Row’s barrier of magic prevented the swamp’s creatures from wandering too close—there were far worse things than just the naga lurking out there. She was safe enough right now, even if she was desperately alone.

To settle her nerves, Zarya drew on the stars, lifting a hand to the sky. Ribbons of light bloomed between her fingers like iron shavings gathering around a magnetic force. She didn’t understand how it happened, only that as a small child, she’d discovered this strange talent mostly by chance. But other than its ability to call the naga, it was a useless, if pretty, trick.

Row had spent many years working with her, trying to coax out something more, but this insipid gift comprised the extent of her magic. Every time she tried, Row sighed with what seemed like equal parts relief and frustration when nothing else manifested.

But that didn’t stop him from insisting no one could ever know about it, either.

It was just one more mystery to which she had no answer, and no matter how much she demanded them, Row remained as tight-lipped as a spy caught behind enemy lines.

Zarya stared at the light twisting between her fingers, lost in the tenderness of their soft glow. Then she stretched her hand, allowing them to float away before they misted into the night sky.