Page 39 of Dance of Stars and Ashes

Then, she lunged up with her blade, spearing the beast through its stomach between the joints of its shell. She felt the shudder as she drove the sword in deep, a cascade of black blood drenching her. She gagged as it filled her nose and mouth while she twisted her blade.

Blinded to her surroundings, she felt the demon go still and had just enough presence of mind to roll out from under it before it collapsed onto the earth with a heavy whump.

Zarya wiped a hand over her eyes and then lay in the grass, panting, unable to move as the sky swirled above her. She heard her name, and Aarav appeared in her vision, positioned on his hands and knees. “You saved my life, Zarya. Can you get up?”

“I’m not sure,” she said, her voice and throat raw. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” he breathed. “I almost wasn’t. Gods, that was close.”

In the distance, Zarya could hear the fighting. They weren’t done yet. She struggled to her feet.

Koura spotted her and came running over.

“Are you hurt? Do you need healing?” he asked them both, scanning Zarya and then Aarav from head to toe. It was hard to tell where she began, and the demon’s blood ended.

“I’m fine. Just winded.”

Koura clamped a heavy hand on her shoulder. “You’re sure?”

“Yes. I just need a moment.”

The healer nodded and then jogged off, seeking out anyone who might benefit from his gifts.

They continued fighting, losing track of the hours and minutes until the strength of the assault began to cease. Zarya and Aarav fought together as the last scorpions were dispatched, their army ragged and covered in blood.

Finally, the sun rose above the horizon, and the last of the ajakava skittered away and melted into the darkness of the trees. Zarya watched them as everyone left standing on the battlefield stirred inside this hollow victory.

She turned to find the plain surrounding the city littered with fallen soldiers and dead ajakava. It was a massacre, but at least they’d kept them from breaching the wall. Dharati might not survive another attack.

She spotted Vikram in the distance, shouting orders with Yasen at his side, and breathed out in relief. As she approached them with Aarav in tow, she quickly searched for the others, finding everyone safe, if a little battered, as tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Zarya,” Aarav said, clapping a hand on her shoulder. There was a time she would have shaken him off, but she gave him a weary smile. “You saved me. I don’t know how to thank you.”

“You would have done the same for me,” she said, and they watched each other.

A moment later, he nodded. “I would have. Zarya, I would.”

The corner of her mouth tipped up.

“I know, Aarav. Come on. Let’s go see if they need our help.”

ELEVEN

Battered and bruised, the citizens of Dharati collected themselves once again in the face of the dangers that were closing in on them, bit by bit. As the sun rose the following day, the city spiraled to life, honoring the dead and stepping back into the threads of their days. They’d grown used to chaos, understanding how to pick up the pieces, though they all wondered how many more times they would do this before everything unraveled once and for all.

Zarya and Yasen were commended for their role—if they hadn’t been assigned to the watchtower that night, then the city might not have been warned of the impending attack. Despite her unease about the ghost army being visible only to her eyes, Zarya was glad it had at least prepared everyone for the ajakava.

Row and the other Chiranjivi had questioned Zarya endlessly about what she’d seen, trying to puzzle out the mystery of her vision. She didn’t know how to answer any of them.

The two guards who’d run out of the trees to warn them had both perished in the fight, and no one could ask what had possessed them to abandon the tower and enter the forest that night.

It was one puzzle after another.

Vikram promoted Yasen to interim commander of Daragaab’s army, acknowledging he could no longer manage the position given his new duties as steward. As a result, Yasen had been busy at the fort, and she hadn’t seen him much since the attack.

But it was finally time for the concluding phase of Amrita’s transformation, and it couldn’t come too soon. Until she took her place, the city wouldn’t be safe.

Zarya dressed for the ceremony in the haveli, donning a pair of light blue pants accented with silver beads, along with a matching sleeveless choli. Over them, she layered a sheer, flowing jacket that reached to her ankles and buttoned just below her bust line. She left her hair loose, hanging down her back in soft waves.