Page 72 of Heart of Night and Fire

Zarya lay with her hands folded over her stomach, savoring the quiet of the room and the wondrous clarity of her mind, finally at rest.

After sitting up, she poured herself a glass of water from the crystal jug next to her bed. It tasted of roses and pomegranates.

With unsteady legs, she placed her feet on the floor, testing her strength. She pushed herself up and hobbled slowly to the bedpost, reaching out to grip it for support. Already out of breath, she collapsed on the chest at the foot of the bed.

“Zarya!” Vikram exclaimed, entering the room. His midnight hair was sticking up in various directions, the way it got whenever he’d been running his hands through it. “You’re up. She’s up!” he called into the sitting room, and Yasen and Aarav appeared in the doorway.

“Get back into bed,” Vikram said.

“Can we get you something to eat?” Yasen asked.

“Someone send for food. Soup!” Aarav called.

Vikram fussed over her, settling her back under the covers. Someone handed over another glass of water, and she gulped it down. A tray with a bowl of fragrant coconut broth and a steaming cup of chai was set in front of her.

Vikram sat on the edge of the bed, taking one hand as she sipped the broth with the other. “We were so worried about you. What happened?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know.” The warm soup soothed her throat, raw from screaming. “It was the worst pain I’ve ever experienced, and it just wouldn’t stop. It was like something had me in a vise and just kept twisting and twisting. I never imagined I could feel so much.”

Three sets of eyes scrutinized her with a combination of horror and concern.

“How long was it?” Zarya asked carefully, dreading the answer.

“Over a week,” Vikram said. “First, you were in such pain. Oh gods, we were so scared. And then it just stopped, and you’ve been asleep ever since.”

As she sipped her tea, her hands shook—partly from the strain on her body and partly from the fear of whatever had caused this. It was a miracle she wasn’t dead. What if it happened again? Could Rabin help her? Why had he been the only one who was able to fix her? Was that why the forest called them?

“I need to lie down again,” she said, feeling lightheaded.

Vikram propped a stack of pillows behind her, and she leaned into them. Then she noticed Aarav’s black eye and the swollen cut on his cheek.

“How are things on the wall?”

The Khada generally refused aid from the queen’s healers unless it was life-threatening, instead preferring to wear their minor injuries as badges of honor.

Aarav grinned. “I’ve killed more vetalas than any member of the Khada.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re not dead,” she said, closing her eyes. “I think.”

“I’m glad you aren’t dead, too,” came his reply. “I suppose.”

Zarya smiled.

“Do you want someone to read to you?” Vikram asked.

“I’d prefer some quiet.”

“Of course.”

Yasen and Aarav said their goodbyes and then shuffled out of the room.

“Do you mind if I lie down next to you?” Vikram asked, sweeping a lock of hair off her forehead.

“I’d like that.”

With her eyes closed, she listened to him kick off his boots and remove his jacket. The bed shifted as he crawled in next to her, and Zarya turned on her side as he wrapped an arm around her, scooting himself in close to cradle her body. Cocooned in the warmth of his embrace, she drifted off again.

When Zarya woke, Kindle stood at the foot of the bed, his hands bracing the footboard, lost in thought. He wore his usual black coat trimmed in red and a wide belt around his slim waist. His wavy black hair was swept back and out of his eyes. At her movement, he looked to her, and she caught those fiery flashes of orange and yellow in his irises.