Page 89 of Storm of Ink and Blood

“Then how about helping me break into the Jai Palace library?”

THIRTY-ONE

They arrived in Dharati under the cover of night.

It hadn’t taken much convincing—Rabin was proving true to his word about following wherever she went—his only reservations were about her safety, but after a bit of coercing, he’d agreed but only if she listened to his orders.

She’d consented but also had no intention of doing so if it didn’t suit her goals.

She had to take this risk if something in that library could help with Operation Starbreak. After transforming into his dragon, he flew them over the trees, keeping them as low as possible.

From her perch on his back, Zarya surveyed the distance and the effects of the blight still evident across the landscape. It would probably take many years for the rot to grow over and a healthy forest to reclaim the land. She thought of the forests outside Ishaan and wondered if Daragaab would ever get that chance.

How close to the surface was the darkness sitting, waiting to return? The burden of this secret was growing heavier and heavier. She needed to do something about it, but fear and worry left her paralyzed with indecision.

Instead, she focused on what she could do—namely helping the vanshaj and continuing her work. Despite everything that happened with the blight, their cause was still more important than the darkness and its distant threats.

They landed softly in a clearing, far enough from Dharati’s walls to escape notice of the sentries. Row had mentioned in his letters that the Khada had been reduced in numbers, with only a handful remaining on watch.

Once Rabin shifted into his rakshasa form, they picked their way through the trees and towards the walls of the city, heading for the concealed opening the vetalas had used when they’d snatched Amrita from the peri anada. They hoped no one had thought to block it during all the resulting chaos, and they exchanged a relieved glance to find the way clear.

“Behind me,” Rabin said, drawing his sword from his back. Zarya rolled her eyes but let him go first, reasoning that if some horrible creature ate him, she wouldn’t have to decide whether to officially forgive him or not.

They entered the dark tunnel, and he cast out a glow of his coppery light. After looking over his shoulder, they plunged into the darkness, feeling their way along the path until they reached the door at the end. Rabin pressed on the latch, but it held firm.

“It’s locked,” he said, looking up as though he could see through the layers of wood and stone over their heads.

“You think the house is still abandoned?” Zarya asked, realizing that while it had been in ruins months ago, that had been right after the kala-hamsa attack. With the restoration efforts, it was more than likely that the owners had repaired the house and returned.

“Move,” Zarya said, putting her arm in front of Rabin and squeezing past. She bent down to peer at the lock, feeding out a thread of spirit magic and rooting around inside the mechanism. With her tongue between her teeth, she probed the metal until she was rewarded with a soft click.

“Ah,” she said with a smile before easing the door open. They exited into the basement, which had been tidied up since their last visit. Dust no longer clung to every surface, and the charred bits of wood and debris had been cleared away, suggesting someone definitely lived here again.

They looked up at the ceiling and then at one another.

“It’s late,” Rabin said. “Everyone is probably asleep.”

“Let’s hope,” Zarya said as she placed a gentle foot at the bottom of the stairs, and they slowly made their way up.

They paused at the top, listening for any of the home’s inhabitants.

“Can you hear anything?” she asked Rabin, who shook his head.

“Nothing. Let’s just do this quickly.”

Zarya slowly opened the door and then slid out, entering the dark main level.

“Come on,” she whispered, tiptoeing across the space and towards the front entrance. The floor was silent, free of creaks as they made their way across. When Zarya reached the exit, she stretched for the doorknob like it was her salvation and turned.

“Hey!” came a voice, and they both spun around to find an elderly man in his nightclothes holding a glass of water. “Who are you?”

“Sorry,” Zarya said as she flung out a hand, conjuring a cloud of black fog. The man began calling for help. “Let’s get out of here,” she whispered to Rabin as they searched blindly for the handle. The man began shouting louder, probably rousing the entire neighborhood.

“Zarya,” Rabin said in a low voice.

“This way!” she said, grabbing his hand. They hit the door, stumbling outside. “Move!” She slammed it behind him, leaving her shadows on the other side. Thankfully, the street was empty, and Zarya hoped her magic wouldn’t cause any lasting damage to the house or its residents.

“Come,” Rabin said, taking her hand and dragging her into a dark alley. They navigated their way through the streets, moving towards the center of the city until they came upon Row’s haveli.