Page 126 of Dance of Stars and Ashes

The king knew, then.

He knew Zarya existed and that she bore the gift he’d coveted for so long. The magic he’d sought as his own. There would be nowhere she could hide ever again. She heard her mother’s voice through the necklace, reminding her this was already a foregone conclusion. That the prophecy had been a death sentence for them both.

Dhawan hadn’t just attempted to seal all of Rahajhan’s fate—he’d also sold Zarya out for some unnamed ambition. She could only imagine what sort of devious bargain had landed her in the back of this wagon.

Though the darkness threatened to drown her, Zarya’s eyes finally adjusted, and she made out the bright edge of the doors where sunlight filtered through the narrowest of gaps. She crawled over, trying to ignore the pain attempting to drag her under.

Dhawan would pay for what he’d done to Yasen.

For what he had done to Rani Vasvi and Amrita.

She had to get out of here to avenge her friends and stop Dhawan from delivering her to Raja Abishek. Once they got her onto one of those boats, she’d be trapped with nowhere to run. Her route to freedom was now or never.

The carriage hit a bump and nearly toppled, tossing Zarya against the wall. Pain flared in the recesses of her soul as she shuffled towards the doors, slamming her feet against the surface. They held fast and the action sent a bolt of agony ripping through her. Zarya struggled to her knees, hands skimming along the doors, hoping to find a latch. Her fingers met with the cold touch of smooth steel. Zarya slumped back down, hopeless and defeated, willing herself not to pass out.

Hunched over on her hands and knees, she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to come up with a plan. In through her nose and out through her mouth, she dragged in slow, long breaths.

And then she felt it. So small. So insignificant it would have been easy to miss. Black dots swirled in her vision as she swayed on a teetering point of consciousness. She shook them away, forcing herself to focus.

It was there—a spark. Her star. Her anchors. The light that had lived inside her since the day Rabin had released her from the binding curse.

The magic that had changed everything, bestowing a history and a past she had never dreamed possible.

Zarya dug into it, coaxing the ember as it flickered to life, so feeble and weak. Dhawan’s potion had erected a shield blocking her from its source, but it was still there. She concentrated harder, willing her magic free from his trap.

This was just another prison. Another noose. Another person trying to cage her, and she was fucking sick of it.

With her teeth gritted, she willed the jagged blade of her mind inward, finding the outlines of the shield, and there was something tangible she could tear down. She prodded at the surrounding blackness, testing its limits, searching for weaknesses in its armor.

Her anchors glowed softly, swirling to life, magic fortifying her limbs. She tried to grasp them, like pinching a molten thread of glass between her fingernails. With a soft pull on her spirit, the shield began to crumble, bit by bit, pieces breaking away in silvery splinters. Her spark flared brighter, spreading out at the edges. Zarya pulled again, the shield flaking away as the glittering presence inside her grew and grew.

Dizzy with effort, she sat back as the carriage bumped along the ground. She was sure they must be somewhere in the swamp, heading for the ships they’d seen from Rabin’s back.

How much longer did she have? There would only be one chance to make this work, and if they were too close to the shore, they’d see exactly what she’d done. How many guards escorted her now? With so many unknowns, every move was a gamble with infinite stakes.

But she had to try.

With her eyes closed, she focused again.

Zarya’s pain melted away as magic pooled into her cells and pores. It flowed from her heart, racing along her limbs, drenching her in its power. She dug into it. Willing it to the surface. Like that day in the crumbling streets of Dharati when she had tamed the blight with Rabin’s hand around hers, filling her with strength.

He wasn’t here to help her now, but it was his face she saw. His velvet eyes, his demanding mouth. She thought of the moment he’d finally admitted he felt something, too. How her heart had almost split when he’d kissed her. Of the night they’d spent in Premyiv when he’d made Zarya feel worthy of something.

When he’d kissed her, his touch had been full of a promise she didn’t quite understand yet. But she desperately wanted to explore where it led.

Zarya bundled the strength he’d given her, the strength she’d always known she had, and balled them into her heart.

Then, she thought of Yasen. Dhawan had murdered him. Taken away his light. His grin. His irreverence and that unmistakable essence that had made him. Dhawan ended the one thing that had kept Zarya grounded through every soaring victory and every crumbling defeat.

Her power and strength grew brighter and brighter, fueled by the pure and uncomplicated love she felt for Yasen. For what he’d done to Yasen, Zarya would find Dhawan and tear him limb from limb if it took every last dying breath.

This was her vow to her first best friend.

If there had been a window in the carriage, the guards might have seen it. Might have noticed the light and the radiance that filled the dark space.

If they’d been paying attention, they might have felt her awakening.

She was strong and ready and whole.