Page 100 of Storm of Ink and Blood

“I’ll handle this,” Row said, throwing his shoulders back. “Zarya is under my charge.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Vikram answered with a glare. “They broke into my palace, and I want to know why. Why is it you can’t stay away, big brother? Why can’t you take the hint that your presence isn’t welcomed or desired here?”

“Vik,” Rabin said, having no idea how to appease him, but his brother held up a hand.

“Save it. You’ll come with me for questioning.”

He then gestured to the line of his guards, who filtered out to surround them. Maybe Vikram was still a bigger fool than Rabin had given him credit for because Zarya, Row, and Rabin could easily deal with these foot soldiers with a mere snap of their fingers. Maybe he was relying on the dregs of Rabin’s loyalty to cooperate, but his allegiance lay with Zarya first.

His gaze met hers as he tried to convey that he had a plan and to go along with the guards for now.

She seemed to understand as she blinked, her chin dipping slightly.

“If you come quietly, then I won’t make this worse,” Vikram added.

Rabin and Zarya nodded as they followed the soldiers through the library. When they exited the room, they came upon the keepers who’d been guarding the entrance.

They spun around, taking in the sight of Zarya and Rabin.

“Intruders?” one of them gasped, his pallor turning pale. “In our sacred library?”

The second one then narrowed his eyes as they fell on Row.

Rabin saw it all happen in an instant, never more thankful that he knew every room and passageway of this palace. It might have been years since he’d walked its halls, but it felt like it had been only yesterday.

“He was trying to distract us,” accused the keeper, pointing to Row.

Rabin watched as Vikram came to a halt and turned to glare at Row. “Is this true?”

“Run,” Rabin growled before Row could answer, and all three of them shoved through the barricade of soldiers, catching them off guard. “This way!”

They bolted left down the hallway, their boots echoing in the silent corridor. It took less than a second for the shouts and footsteps of Vikram and his guards to follow as Rabin, Zarya, and Row careened around corners, their soles sliding and squeaking on the smooth marble.

Rabin pumped his arms, tempering his pace just enough so Zarya could keep up on her shorter legs. He checked back to see they were already widening the distance. Vikram led the charge, rage and anger burning in his eyes.

Rabin felt the sharp sting of an arrow graze his arm, but he ignored it, checking over his shoulder for Zarya, ensuring she was close.

“Where are we going?” she shouted as they entered a large room with a domed glass ceiling. This is where he’d planned to lead them. It was the perfect escape route.

“Stay near the wall and then jump when I’m ready!” he shouted.

He didn’t wait to see if they understood as he ran for the center, black smoke dissolving around him as his body gave in to the transformation. For several long seconds, he felt himself suspended inside the nothingness of his magic, his limbs and torso and head becoming an amorphous collection of bones and sinew before he felt the telltale crackle that signaled the final seconds before he stood in the center of the room on all fours, his body stretching to the height of the ceiling.

He turned his massive, scaled head towards Zarya and Row, huffing out a breath as a signal. They looked at one another and then ran as he lowered his back, allowing them to scramble on.

A moment later, Vikram and the soldiers poured into the room, belting out commands to stand down. If Rabin could laugh in this form, he would have. There was no stopping him now.

“Arrows! Stop him!” screamed Vikram. “Fire! Fire at will!”

Rabin felt the sting of dozens more arrows scrape his thick hide, but the effect was about as useful as tossing a handful of toothpicks at an elephant.

Rabin extended his wings, knocking over the statues circling the room. The tips speared through the windows, glass exploding in a shower of glittering shards. Vikram began shouting louder as Rabin drew his wings in closer and blasted out a stream of pure blue fire towards the line of stumbling guards.

Then he flapped. Once. Twice. Three times before he launched into the air and crashed through the glass ceiling with a mighty roar.

THIRTY-FOUR

Rabin soared over the palace, circling the sky as Zarya and Row clung to his back. Screams floated up from below as the city ground to a stop at the sight of the monster flying overhead. The people of Dharati were largely ignorant of his form—that night he’d saved Zarya from the kala-hamsa was one of the few times he’d transformed within the city walls, and he knew the initial sight was always a little overwhelming.