Page 91 of Her Soul for a Crown
Settled in an alcove far away, Anula couldn’t hear Mayra’s cries, yet she felt them like a ghostly hand pressing against shoulder and knee. Where else would they aim?
Premala stepped up to a wall of masks, more cursed than blessed, and picked one with blood dripping from sharp teeth. Shebit her lip as she stared. “The Divinities of Truth and Refuge have blessed Guruthuma Hashini with insight to your tovil dance. She has begun to teach me the steps. If done right, it’ll not only save bargainers from the yolk of their bargains, but complete what the Kattadiya started long ago.”
Gooseflesh prickled. “What did they start?”
Light sparkled in Premala’s gaze. “The Kattadiya are the ones who called Lord Wessamony from the Second Heavens to take away the Yakkas for all they’d done. But, according to the guruthumas, it had been a last resort. The Divinities had meant for the Kattadiya to be able to stop the Yakkas themselves, not just break their bargains or send them to their shrines. They were meant to tear apart a Yakka’s soul.”
“What?”
Mistaking her whisper for reverence, Premala nodded vigorously. “I know, it changes everything doesn’t it? If we—if I can perform this correctly, I will save you, wholly. I can keep you from ever being harmed by these Yakkas again.”
Anula’s lungs seized.
The masks in the memory-nightmares, she knew they had been the Kattadiya, butthis? Responsible for calling Wessamony, for starting the centuries-long punishment and torture of them all… Why hadn’t Reeri told her? What else was he hiding?
A finger of fear slid down Anula’s back. What else were the Kattadiya capable of?
“If I do this right”—Premala’s voice tripped—“I can save the kingdom.”
Anula saw her then, a soldier terrified of her leaders and their judgment of her worthlessness. A soldier ready to prove them wrong.
But Anula couldn’t let her. “I command you not to.”
Premala blanched. “Wh—what?”
“I came here to tell you that I no longer require your help.”
“Y—you broke your bargain? Without a tovil?”
“The tovil is not necessary anymore.”
Premala’s brows knit tightly. “How did you get them all to leave?”
“Them?” Anula swallowed.
“I told you, we can feel a bargain!” Premala snapped. She stepped back. “The guruthuma, as soon as she met you, she knew. You didn’t just make a bargain. You brought them back. Who are they? How did you convince them to leave?”
Anula’s stomach plummeted. “You know about the tether?”
“We can sense them! The guruthuma has ways.” Premala’s voice pitched. “I told her you were different, that you were taken in by their lies. I convinced her to let you—”
Premala clapped a hand over her mouth.
“Let me what?”
Premala shook her head.
The blood oath and denouncement, the rules of mercy and worthiness… “What happens to the bargainers the guruthuma finds, the ones who didn’t seek you out?”
A squeak slid through Premala’s fingers.
“How does the guruthuma save them? Or does she save the people from their influence instead?”
Premala shook.
“The Yakkas may not be killed in a tovil, yet, but the bargainers are, aren’t they? You convinced the guruthuma that I was different. That I deserved to survive. Cursed Heavens, Premala, how can you not see the Kattadiya are eviler than the Yakkas?”
“They’re lying to you!” Premala broke. “What did they promise? The throne? The whole kingdom’s been talking about how you’ve managed to stayed married to not two but three usurpers. For prayer’s sake, that’s it. It’s the raja, isn’t it? He’s beenpossessed—that’s how he usurped so quietly. Did they kill the others? Did you know?”
