Page 94 of Dance of Stars and Ashes

“Comfortable, Spitfire?”

She squeaked and scrambled away, crawling backward on her hands like a crab until she hit the sand and plunked onto her butt. Rabin sat up with a smirk.

“Was it good for you, too?” he asked.

“Shut up.”

She was no stranger to sleeping on the beach, but she’d never slept as well as she had last night. There was no way she was admitting that, though.

The door to the cottage slammed, and they looked over to see Row striding out. He paused as he took in Zarya and then Rabin, a deep furrow creasing his brow. She knew that look all too well and wasn’t having this conversation right now.

She leaped up and pointed to the boat bobbing happily in the water. “Where did that come from?”

“It’s always been there. I took away the cloaking spell,” he said in a very matter-of-fact way, like she should have known that all along.

Zarya sputtered, choking out an incredulous laugh. “There was a boat there all this time? Just sitting there?”

“Sorry,” Row said, his expression apologetic. She didn’t know why this annoyed her so much—it’s not like she would have known how to steer it, but an escape route had been there all this time? She pinched the bridge of her nose, glaring as Row walked towards it. Being here, surrounded by the artifacts of her former captivity, was proving to be a lot to handle.

“I hate boats,” Rabin mumbled, his eyes dark. Zarya remembered when Yasen had told her that rakshasas avoided the water.

“Don’t tell me Daragaab’s greatest commander is afraid of a little water,” she said, and Rabin frowned up at her. She was learning to read these frowns and their various subtexts. There were the truly angry ones, the slightly irritated ones, and ones where he was mostly faking it. This frown seemed to be of the annoyed variety.

“I’m not afraid. I just don’t like the water. There’s a difference.” Then, he narrowed his eyes. “Why are you smiling at me like that?”

“It’s nice to know there’s something fallible about you.”

He gave a derisive laugh. “I promise there are many things fallible about me. Never forget that.”

Suvanna, Kindle, and Apsara filed out of the cottage as Koura and Row readied the boat for departure.

Zarya walked along the small dock and hopped aboard. Rabin stood at the end, one foot resting on the planks, eyeing the boat with mistrust. Suvanna cackled behind him before she slapped him on the back and shouldered past. With a few long strides, she sprung up onto the prow, flung out her arms, and then dove into the water in a graceful arc.

“Come on,” Zarya said, waving him on as he reluctantly stepped into the hull. Benches lined the stern, and they all found a spot. Zarya sat next to Rabin, who leaned forward, his elbows braced on his knees, his head hanging down.

Suvanna surfaced from the water a moment later, and the boat shot forward, cutting effortlessly along the frothing white waves.

“Are you going to make it?” she asked Rabin, whose skin had taken on a delicate shade of green. As much as she wanted to give him a hard time right now, he looked absolutely pathetic with his head between his knees.

“I’m fine,” he replied in a clipped tone. He ran a hand down his face. “Sorry. I’m a little anxious.”

“It’s okay,” she said, but decided she would try to distract him. He’d supported her inner spiral last night, and she wanted to return the favor.

“So, tell me why they still call you commander,” she said, leaning her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands. “Yasen once mentioned Daragaab’s former army commander, who expanded Rani Vasvi’s territory and ensured its enemies were few. I assume he meant you.”

He looked up at her with a crease between his brows. “Guilty. And because that’s who I used to be to many of them. Most of those people served under me. I was their commander for almost a hundred and fifty years. I suppose old habits die hard.”

“How old are you, anyway?” Zarya asked, the true depth of immortality weighing on her.

“About two hundred. After a certain point, you kind of lose track. It doesn’t really matter anymore.”

“What about Yasen and Vikram?”

“Ah, just over a hundred. They’re close in age. My father is around five hundred.”

Zarya was quiet for a moment. She’d always considered her existence in the context of a normal human lifespan, but now the future spread before her with endless possibilities.

“You’ll be there before you know it, too. Life, even an immortal one, moves swiftly.”