Page 105 of Storm of Ink and Blood

“None at all,” he said. “My friends and I haven’t been able to convince a single person.”

Zarya’s heart sank again. Even if she could figure out how to use her nightfire to remove them faster, there would be no point unless someone came forward.

She puffed out a lock of hair from her eyes. “Well, then, we’d better tell you everything we’ve been up to.”

They all filed into the living room, perching on chairs and divans around the space as they recalled their adventures in Dharati. When they were done, Zarya explained their beliefs regarding her nightfire and her concerns about turning it on anyone.

“So, where does that all leave us?” Ajay asked.

“I’m not sure. I’ll need to do some experimenting and see if I can learn how to control it. There must be some aspect I’m missing.”

Ajay rubbed his chin as he shared a look with Rania, a silent message passing between them.

“What exactly is your plan with all this?” Rabin asked, speaking for the first time since they’d arrived. “What are you hoping to accomplish?”

Ajay’s eyes narrowed. “We’re trying to free prisoners from their chains. I think that’s obvious.”

“Yes,” Rabin answered in a dry voice that clearly did nothing to endear him to Ajay. “To what end? You need something definitive. Something the Madans can’t undo to bring about a permanent change. They’ll uncover what you’re doing soon enough, and they will take every single one of them back. They have more money and resources than you can comprehend, and it will be nothing for them to simply collar these people again.”

“So, what do you propose?” Ajay asked, his eyebrow arching and his voice dripping with derision. Zarya wondered if she’d have to throw herself between these two before the day was done. She could practically feel the sparks of hatred generating between them.

“Make a statement,” Rabin answered simply. “You need to come at them with a powerful enough force that they’ll have to listen.”

Zarya watched as Ajay chewed the inside of his lip, his gaze again falling to Rania.

Rabin wasn’t wrong. They could free a few vanshaj from their collars, but the moment they were discovered, the Madans would send every soldier in their army to hunt down every last one. They would never allow it to stand.

Still, Zarya could understand hearing someone who’d literally walked in the door moments ago, point that out might not be welcome. But then Rabin was never one to hold back on his thoughts.

The door to the back of the house banged open a moment later, and a young boy of no more than ten with a ring of tattooed stars around his neck came careening around the corner.

He clutched his thin chest, and it was obvious he’d been crying, thanks to the tracks running through the dust on his cheeks.

“Nitin!” Vikas asked, standing up. “What is it?”

Zarya recognized him as Vikas’s younger brother. The boy bent over, bracing his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

“They took them,” he finally managed to gasp out.

“Took who?” Vikas asked.

“Mother and Father,” he said, more fat tears spilling down his cheeks. “They claimed they had evidence you were part of the factory bombing and arrested them.”

“Shit,” Yasen breathed, echoing what they were all thinking.

“And not just them,” Nitin continued. “They took others. Our neighbors. Our friends.”

“How many?” Vikas asked, striding over to him and dropping to a knee as he clutched the boy’s arms.

“I don’t know. About a dozen.”

Nitin sobbed and then wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “They said they’re to be executed.”

Staggering silence echoed through the room as those words sank in.

This was a message. A warning.

“Gods, what have I done,” Vikas said, visibly trembling as he drew his sobbing brother into his arms.