Page 54 of Storm of Ink and Blood

“Something here,” he said.

“Hold out your hand,” Zarya said, recalling Rabin’s instructions in the forest. “The fire anchor is the most common. Think of directing that thing in your chest here.” She pointed to the center of his palm.

Vikas stared up at Zarya, worry crossing his expression. “What if I can’t do this?”

“You can,” she said. “This is what you’ve been waiting for. You can do this.”

He nodded and then pressed his mouth together in determination.

She watched as he focused on the spot in the middle of his hand.

His brows scrunched together as he concentrated, and then it happened.

A tiny flame ignited above his palm. He was so surprised he leaped back, knocking into the chair behind him before toppling over.

“Are you okay?” Zarya cried, but he wasn’t hurt. He was laughing. He was lying on his back, clutching his stomach, tears streaming down his face as he laughed and laughed, the sound filling every corner of the room.

“I did it,” he cried through his tears. “I did it!”

She smiled and laughed with him, feeling all the weighted sides and angles of what she’d just done. The lightness of this accomplishment and the heaviness of everything this could mean.

Had any vanshaj in history ever been freed from their collar? Had they just accomplished the unimaginable?

What repercussions might follow now?

Zarya touched the necklace around her neck, thinking of her mother’s words. This was what she’d come here to do, and she would die trying to fulfill this promise. She didn’t care what it took.

After another minute, Vikas sat up and stared at her, his mouth open as if waiting for further instruction.

“One more time,” she said, and he did it again, concentrating before a flame burst above his hand.

“Me next!” another of the men said.

“What’s your name?” Zarya asked.

“I’m Suni,” he said, and she pointed to the chair.

“Have a seat then.”

Over the next few days, Zarya freed them one by one. She discovered that the process required careful precision and was also draining on her magic. She could only manage about one per day. But she returned with Yasen multiple times until she sat in front of the final one. A soft-spoken man named Ashok.

She started again, taking her time to carefully peel away the collar as everyone watched. She was already feeling more comfortable with the process, though she didn’t dare go any faster.

She freed Ashok from the tattoo with that same blaze of fire before it melted away, leaving smooth brown skin. They cheered as he lifted his arms overhead and once again took to celebrating. Though she’d tried to hone her technique, the process wasn’t getting any faster, and it was nightfall by the time they finished each day.

It was a step on a winding and precarious path because thousands of vanshaj lived in Gi’ana, let alone the entire continent. At this rate, she’d never live long enough to free them all. Or they’d be caught long before that happened.

But this was a start.

Once she had broken all their collars, Zarya worked with them to discover who had magic and helped summon their anchors. Suni had no magic but didn’t seem to care at all. He reveled in his freedom, touching his neck constantly while watching his friends work with their new gifts.

Yasen left to buy food and returned a short while later, laden with samosas, papri chat, and mounds of jalebi that he set on the floor where they all sat cross-legged, passing dishes around the circle.

Zarya helped them tap into their other anchors as they ate. As far as they could tell, Charun only had a fire anchor, and Ashok had both a fire and water anchor. He practically vibrated with excitement as he drew up a drop of water from a glass, pulling it to the ceiling before releasing it in a tiny burst.

She loved watching how encouraging they were with each other, and every win, big or small, was celebrated with equal enthusiasm.

Vikas had more anchors. She helped him discover and recognize each one in turn.