Page 88 of Heart of Night and Fire

As she rounded another stack, she felt a barely perceptible tug. It pulled at her like a carp caught on a fishhook, the sensation similar to what she always felt in the dream forest. Zarya wondered again about Rabin and when her dreams might take her back to him. Where was he now?

She wasn’t sure if her reluctance to continue anything with Vikram might be due, in part, to her mysterious entanglement with Rabin. She could never tell anyone about how he made her feel. He was a phantom conjured from her imagination. He felt real, but was he? How could she ever tell anyone she was smitten with a ghost?

There were days when the entire incident seemed like a fantasy, no more solid than mist. But the pain had been real. The release of her magic had been, too. And the flame she’d invoked. When Rabin had touched her, that had felt more real than anything.

The fishhook tugged her through the rows. She ran her hands along the books, allowing herself to be swept along on the crest of this benevolent wave.

There.

It grew stronger when she passed that row of shelves.

Zarya stopped and backed up. The sensation intensified as she stepped into the row, brushing her hands along both sides. Just below eye level, a small book grabbed her attention. It had a green leather cover with faded gilt lettering. She ran her fingers over the words. Aazheri ka Jadoo. It was written by Professor Amit Dhawan.

Professor Dhawan? That seemed like too great a coincidence not to mean something important.

As she flipped through the first few pages, the spark that now lived inside her flared, a warm glow flushing through her limbs. Her entire body hummed with energy, like a fuse waiting to detonate.

It took her a moment to realize her magic was reacting to the book in her hands, and she was sure this was exactly what she needed to help finally learn the answer to some questions she’d been asking every day of her life.

THIRTY-ONE

Zarya tucked the book into her bag next to the one with her mother’s picture in it—she always kept it close by.

As she made her way back to her room, she passed guests heading to the great hall for dinner. She’d been in the library longer than she’d realized. They swept by on a stream of chatter, decked out in finery, cocktails already in hand.

She changed into her own pale pink sari, covered in sparkling silver beads, but she was distracted by the book of magic.

It seemed almost sentient, the way it kept pulling her in.

She decided to skip the party. There were plenty of people—enough, she hoped, that no one would miss her. She slung her book bag back over her shoulder and snuck out of her room, passing more guests who paid her no attention.

As she wove through the crowd, she spotted Aarav in conversation at the foot of the main staircase with Vikram and Yasen, and ducked away quickly.

Down the hallway, she found another set of stairs to take her to the main level and then went in search of a back way into the gardens.

After imploring a servant for help, Zarya located a secluded exit and burst into the fresh air, finding the sky awash in gorgeous shades of pink and orange as the sun began to set.

Peri whispered behind their hands as she swept through the winding paths. Zarya pressed a finger to her lips, beseeching them to keep her secret as she skipped the party. Several of them covered their mouths and turned away with impish looks, thrilled to be included in the game.

She made her way through the garden and to the stretch of forest that lay beyond, intending to find a spot that would provide adequate cover. As she approached the tree line, she stopped and turned back to the manor, studying the way the windows glowed in the falling light, the sounds of music and chatter drifting on the air.

Confident no one had seen her, Zarya ducked into the trees. Though all the forests of Daragaab were beautiful, this one seemed to have an especially wondrous quality to it. She wasn’t familiar with the variety of the trees, but they bore slender silvery trunks and branches that hung with berries encased in fibrous cages of intricate lace as delicate as spiderwebs. Zarya wondered if this was evidence of Gopal Ravana’s power or if this was yakshi magic at work.

Stepping lightly through the moss, she came to a clearing, the ground covered in thick green grass and dotted with bursts of pink and yellow flowers.

The noise and light of the house had faded behind her, and Zarya hoped she was deep enough into the trees to evade notice. Though she realized she did still have an audience, catching sight of a few bold peri hiding beneath the flower petals.

“You will keep my secret, won’t you?” she asked, smiling as she flipped open the first book, the page with her mother’s picture falling open from memory now.

How she wished she’d had the chance to know this woman. Even in the drawing, Aishayadiva Madan had a spark and a light in her eyes. A sense of determination, like she was destined for something. Zarya traced the lines of her mother’s face, wishing she knew where she was and what had happened to her. Was she really dead like Row had claimed?

With a longing sigh, Zarya closed the book and picked up Aazheri ka Jadoo, flipping it open to the title page, once again surprised at the serendipity of finding a book written by Professor Dhawan.

Next, she turned to the introduction page, reading the words:

All magic comprises the five elements. Air, water, fire, earth, and spirit. The manipulation of magic occurs through the combinations, permutations, varying strength levels, and natural affinities of the magic wielder.

While Aazheri can manipulate all five elements of magic, the same cannot be said of those whose gifts are tied to a single element.