Page 104 of Her Soul for a Crown
Reeri pulled them to a pause.
“I saw it in his mind. He and his brother came to the palace, the in-between, for a reason. They called it the place where the Heavens’ love is visible to mankind.”
“And where the relics were cast down,” Reeri murmured, remembering the Divinities’ riddle. “Where all eyes were on them yet no one could see.”
A tremor racked Reeri, the darkness sweeping over him, and he fell into Calu’s arms. Yet, as oblivion took over, he knew. He had been right: the Bone Blade was hiding in plain sight, precisely where he had never thought to look.
The palace.
38
Silence pressed heavily against the Kattadiya caves, the darkness a shroud to the evil Anula knew lurked within. Flickering light cast the Divinities’ statues to dancing, like gravestones come alive in the night.
Wiping the sweat from her palms, she hailed Guruthuma Thilini and followed her to Premala. She tried not to think of the rawness of her hands, how she had scrubbed the blood from them until she couldn’t tell what was hers and what wasn’t. Though it had eventually washed away, the anxiety had not. It tremored now, just below the placid tether. Kama had loved her beating heart enough to agree to go to the gardens again, asking no questions and telling no secrets.
Before opening the door, Anula took a deep, steadying breath. This wouldn’t be her last visit. Since she couldn’t break the blood oath or command them to stop, she had to postpone the tovil, or what she and the Yakkas wanted would slip from her grasp.
Anula pushed into the room and smirked. “I see we’re practicing the gentle touch today.”
The pair of girls blew apart, traces of their embrace pink along their swollen lips.
“Anula,” Premala squeaked, tripping over a double-sided drum and crashing to the floor. “I—I didn’t think you’d come back.”
The other girl, dressed in a maid’s sari, gently picked her up.
Anula shut the door, a plan forming. “You asked me to trust you.”
Premala bit her lip. “I didn’t think you would.”
“Why?”
“You—you’re the raejina consort, and I’m…no one.”
The other girl clucked her tongue.
“Is that what your guruthuma tells you?” Anula asked.
Premala pulled away from the girl, turned to the wall of masks, and fumbled as she reached for a new one, with longer teeth and wider eyes. “You both know what I mean. I’m only a fisherman’s daughter, an acolyte.”
“You’re more than that,” the other girl said.
Premala flushed, nearly dropping the mask.
“Let’s practice,” the girl said. “Prove to Guruthuma Hashini what I’ve always seen.”
Premala hurriedly tied the mask over her face. It didn’t hide the red of her neck, nor the longing gaze they shared, as if the distance between them were as vast as the Makara-infested ocean. An ache caught in Anula’s chest. She coughed it out. “Do I need a formal invitation to be introduced to your mango girl?”
“Mango girl?”
“Oh,” Premala squealed.
Anula cocked her head. “Didn’t you tell her how I saved you from being locked outside the concubine estate all night, mango-less?”
“I saved you, too,” Premala murmured.
Anula turned to the girl who now settled on the stone floor with the drum on her lap. “What’s your name?”
“Sandani.” She bowed her head slightly. “It’s an honor to meet you.”
