Page 58 of Heart of Night and Fire

Aarav ducked and swung his sword to meet the demon’s next impossibly fast move. He was battling with expert skill, but it wasn’t enough. They were being overpowered.

The vetala’s teeth flashed before it grabbed the soldier’s sword, impervious to the sharp blade as it yanked it from her hand and tossed it to the ground before turning back with a monstrous grin.

From her vantage point, Zarya could see more members of the Khada scrambling to open the garrison door, but it was built to withstand an assault, and something was still blocking it, though Zarya couldn’t see what it was.

A loud crack forced everyone into horrified silence. The soldier was stumbling backward, clutching her chest, blood pouring out of a gaping hole. The woman’s heart now dripped from the vetala’s long fingers. It rolled its neck and pounced before it began feasting as the sounds of tearing flesh and the woman’s last sobs filled the air.

Zarya covered her mouth and looked away, but a movement caught her eye. While the demon was distracted, Aarav had maneuvered behind it and plunged his sword through the vetala’s back before swiftly beheading it and then scooping up the dead soldier’s dropped talwar. He did it all within the space of a second before the remaining two vetalas were on him again.

He became a whirl of motion as he fought with both blades flashing in the brightening sunlight. She’d never seen him move like that before. Was this what he’d been doing with all his hours in the city? Training and practicing? No wonder he’d wanted to join the Khada so much. He’d always been a decent fighter, but this was something else.

The crowd was out of control now, screaming their support. Vikram and the others had acquired a battering ram and were busy trying to break down the door.

Zarya scanned the far side of the wall, wondering why none of the other battalions had arrived yet. How far away were they? Had they been similarly ambushed?

Aarav ducked and speared his sword into the gut of a vetala, its black blood spilling out onto the ground. The other demon lunged for him, and Aarav hopped back, narrowly avoiding its claws. He spun around and drove his sword right through the creature’s throat before bringing it crashing to his feet in a shapeless mound of limbs.

Aarav stood with his head down and his arms hanging at his sides as he stared at the slain demons, his body heaving with the effort of his breaths.

“Oh, thank the gods,” Zarya said, pressing her forehead to the stone railing as she waited for the race of her pulse to settle. The crowd on the rooftop was roaring so loudly the entire building was vibrating as money exchanged hands and the winners gloated over the losers.

A great boom from below signaled the garrison door finally giving way right before Vikram and the rest of the Khada spilled through the opening. They surrounded Aarav, slapping him on the back and shaking his hand. He grinned, the weariness in his body seemingly chased away by their admiration.

“That was far too close for comfort,” she said to Yasen, who was leaning with his elbows on the railing and his hands clasped next to her.

“At least it was an opportunity to prove himself.”

She wanted to go down there and scream at Aarav for scaring her like that. As much as they didn’t get along and she joked about killing him, she didn’t really want him to die.

Another figure emerged through the garrison door. It was General Amjal, and the Khada parted to make way as he strode towards Aarav. The general stopped, regarding Aarav for a moment.

His face split into a grin and he slapped him on the back. Aarav smiled back, beaten and weary, but Zarya didn’t think she’d ever seen him stand so tall.

There was no doubt in her mind that Aarav had just been promoted to a full-fledged Khada. She exchanged a look with Yasen.

“Maybe you were right. This is too dangerous for both of us.”

Yasen scoffed and shook his head. “You aren’t going to be able to stop him anymore. He has that look in his eye. One of a man redeemed. Who has finally discovered his purpose, Zee. He won’t stop until he’s dead.”

TWENTY-ONE

“Commander!” A soldier was making his way towards Vikram on the ground below, his face stern. Zarya and Yasen watched as they exchanged words, while Vikram’s brows inched up with alarm.

It was then Zarya noticed the smell in the air as a gentle fall of grey flakes drifted down from the sky. Yasen wiped a speck off his shoulder, and his gaze met Vikram’s.

“Fire,” Yasen said, his pallor turning ashen before he spun on his heel and shoved his way back through the boisterous crowd.

She took off after Yasen, clamoring down the stairs, emerging to alarms blaring through the streets. A cloud of smoke hung over the palace, choking the air.

Zarya and Yasen dodged a mass of panicking crowds. Some were screaming and crying, and many were moving without any clear sense of purpose. Magic couldn’t harm Rani Vasvi, but even she wasn’t immune to fire, and they all understood what this might mean for their queen.

Zarya was exhausted from her already long night, but she pumped her arms and legs, rounding a corner right on Yasen’s heels as they finally came into view of the palace. She almost lost her footing at the sight that greeted them.

The blue courtyard gates stood wide open, revealing the Jai Tree consumed by flames. The inferno was clawing its way up through the branches like a disease. It would take only minutes for every last flower, leaf, and twig to ignite.

Zarya and Yasen entered the courtyard, covering their mouths with their sleeves against the thickening smoke.

Vikram was already standing in the center, shouting orders to the palace guards, calling for water to be carried up from the sea. Clearly, they’d been drilled in the case of such a catastrophe because they were already forming a chain that wound through the palace, ready to shunt buckets of water between their outstretched hands.