Page 147 of Her Soul for a Crown
There was so much she wanted to say. How they were forever on her mind, how her heart stung when the sun rose and they were not there, how it ached when it set. How she woke in the night and cried until there was nothing left. How she would give anything for them to stay.
“I love you,” she whispered.
Their tears glistened as they squeezed her tighter. A tingling welling from fingertip to toe. Thawing and melting her heart.
We love you, too.Anula didn’t need to hear the words to feel them, to know them, for their peace to settle over her, a gentle hug that never let go.
And then they were gone.
The seam closed with a wink, and Fate gently pulled her back. “It is complete.”
57
Everyone moved at once, blinking as if waking from a nightmare.
The amphitheater looked as if it were newly carved, the stone tiers sparkling in the torches’ flames. Only the people were caked in dirt and sweat, smelling sharp as an onion.
“What happened?” a woman at the edge of the pit asked. Her eyes crossed in confusion, taking in the room, the people, and the three men beside her. Horror-struck, the woman who’d once held Kama checked on her son and husband, the adviser’s family rousing from their deep sleep.
Bithul rushed to her side. “It’s all right. You are safe now.”
“No,” said the last man Reeri had inhabited. He touched his bare chest. “Something is missing.”
His proclamation echoed in the cavern of Anula’s heart, reverberated off the empty space where once there had been a tether. She had no sense of how far away the Yakkas were or if they were in danger. She couldn’t even tell if they were alive.
“Did I save them?” Anula asked Fate, pulse quickening. If Reeri didn’t make it, if cutting the Hand of Death hadn’t worked…She grasped Fate’s arm. “Why didn’t the Divinities use the relic to revive Destiny?”
Fate eyed her with the vastness of a thousand stars.
A chill slid down her spine. “Does the relic not work that way on Heavenly beings?” It had been created by humans, intended to be used on humans. Perhaps—
“There is much unknown of the cosmos.”
Anula bristled. “That’s why I’m asking you.”
“The cosmos is constantly changing,” Fate said, looking out and far away, as though they could see it all unfolding. “It has changed again, made anew.”
Anula fingered her empty collarbone and whispered, “Are they alive?”
Fate turned instead to Premala. “The change, too, is in you. It is in all of us.”
Anula tracked Premala’s steps, how she and Sandani held each other tight. Anula didn’t need a tether to feel the promise made. Premala pulled the acolyte’s chin close and pressed her kiss firmly.
It pinched at Anula. She knew she wasn’t going to be given an answer but that she’d have to find it, somehow, someday. And she would. Reeri might have said it first, but she refused to leave him, too.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “For killing you.”
Premala laughed, as if she hadn’t died and returned. “I’m sorry I nearly killed you, too.”
“Please.” A voice rasped. Anula’s head snapped up. Coiled around herself in a corner, Hashini held on to the last shred of life. Poison ate at her lips, as it surely did at her heart. She reached out to her acolytes. “Help.”
No one moved. Actions spoke louder than words and hers had sacrificed one of them. To her, they were replaceable, their lives meaningless and sisterhood a farce. She didn’t deserve theKattadiya.
Anula stepped between Hashini and Premala, but the young woman grabbed her arm. Hands entwined, she and Sandani strode forward.
“Please,” Hashini murmured again.
“I’m sorry,” Premala said, stern and steady, “but my guruthuma taught me that Kattadiya do not act for themselves, only for the protection of others.”
