Page 143 of Dance of Stars and Ashes

“Excellent,” Kindle replied after a brief pause. “Then, let’s proceed. We were all using some form of our magic that day in the grove.”

Everyone nodded as they stirred up their magic in their own unique way. Kindle held a small flame in his hand, while a breeze whipped around Apsara, churning up her hair and the feathers on her wings. Zarya formed a small ball of nightfire and let it hover over her head.

She felt it almost immediately, the way the seven of them connected like a ribbon had tied them together—whole but also separate. It was different than the connection she’d experienced with Rabin—that had been a consuming wave she’d felt right into her very marrow. In those moments, they’d become one.

She did her best not to look at him, but her inconstant gaze faltered. When she found him watching her, she inhaled a sharp breath before she looked away, focusing on Amrita.

“We’re ready,” Kindle said.

“She is starting,” Vikram replied.

At first, it seemed like nothing was happening.

Amrita’s eyes fell closed, her expression calm as her leaves swayed on an invisible breeze. But then Zarya felt it over the miles: that connection to the darkness, to the blight that had plagued Daragaab for years. Dhawan had told her she had been the one who’d drawn the blight out, and maybe he was partly right.

Wherever the truth lay, she felt it now.

“It’s working,” Zarya said.

She was connected to this darkness, but soon, it would be banished to where it had come from. Soon, it would never bother her again.

Vikram’s eyes were closed, too, and his face scrunched together. “She is struggling. It is too much. She cannot hold on.”

Amrita began to shudder and shake, her wood creaking like the masts of a ship caught in a storm, her face screwed against the strain.

“She needs more from us. Try joining hands,” Row said, reaching to his left and right.

Zarya hesitated, wondering if her presence would help or hinder Amrita’s efforts. But today, her sixth anchor lay quietly where she’d stowed it away. She would never release it again.

The Chiranjivi linked themselves into a glittering chain of magic. Situated at the ends, Zarya and Row placed their free hands against Amrita, their magic flowing into the queen. Light pulsed in invisible waves on a sea of power.

She felt the crest of their strength, the way each piece aligned together.

Would this work? They had only a few scribbled notes and a well of hope to cling to. If Zarya hadn’t found that book and realized she could translate it. If Dhawan hadn’t sent them to that grove where they’d discovered their nearly unstoppable power, then Dharati might have been lost. Fate had maneuvered to give them an answer, and it had come just in time.

Amrita’s power swept through Daragaab, touching the darkness and forcing it back. Hemmed in and pushed down, it drowned into an abyss, sealed into its prison, deep, deep into the blackest recesses of the earth.

Cheers erupted through Dharati as the blight receded from the city. People chased after it, tears of joy in their eyes. It swept over the land, leaving behind the desiccated ruins of a queendom once under siege. But they would recover.

They would rebuild, and Daragaab would be stronger than ever.

Magic swept over the miles, taking the demons that did not belong to this world with it. Screams of anguish rang out as Amrita’s magic sealed them back into the darkness forever.

Over the cadaverous forest, it swept towards the ocean, racing against the earth, reclaiming the miles that had been lost. The rivers, the trees, the towns it had devoured. They were gone, but they would come back. They would find a way to reclaim their lives once again.

What was dead would live again. What had been taken would regrow in time. Hope replaced the darkness as it was once again buried deep beneath the Jai Tree. Light and love and joy flowed over the land, over the hills, through the forest, and through the hearts and minds of a people who had almost lost everything.

As the darkness was pushed further and further down, it finally met its end, receding from the shore and away from the small whitewashed cottage that sat quietly by the sea.

FORTY-TWO

With the blight contained, it was time for the Chiranjivi to return home. Apsara stood in the courtyard, her snowy white wings sparkling in the sunlight. She embraced Zarya, squeezing her tight.

“I’ll see you soon,” she said, clasping her hands.

“Promise me that,” Zarya said. “Have you said goodbye to Suvanna? Will you see each other after this?”

Apsara sighed. “It seems the timing isn’t right for us. Yet again. Perhaps in the next life.”