Page 123 of The Surviving Sky
“What will happen?” she asked, unmoving.
“I’m going to create a nest for you. The plants I’m usingare…intelligent, some of the most precious we have remaining. But this pod won’t be connected to the rudra tree. This means you won’t be able tofly—butyouwillglide, and the rudra beads will control navigation. You will have to be specific with your desires. The more abstract your desire, the fewer chances there are of success.”
“What do you mean?”
“Give the pod instructions,” Airav said. “SayI want, and follow Iravan’s tracking signal. The orb will obey.”
“Can I change the architecture?”
“I advise you don’t try,” Airav said dryly. “The design is fragile and unsupported by a core tree. You have no idea how the plants will react. The pod should open, close, and land as you give it instructions, but don’t tell it what you need it to do. Say whatyouwant, and the design will fulfill it in its own best manner. Thebattery”—Airavglanced at Dhruv—“ought to hold trajection, and it will hopefully sustain the pod’s architecture as though there were an architect in there with you. But don’t use any sungineering equipment unless you absolutely have to. That will consume trajection.”
“How long will the battery last?” Ahilya asked.
“I suppose it depends on how much Dhruv drains me.”
“We don’t know the correlation,” Dhruv muttered as he twisted the dials of the deathbox. A golden forcefield blossomed, inches away from Airav’s chair yet not touching him. “It needn’t be about how much I drain you. Rages, we’re dealing with unknowns, and we’re conducting desperate human trials. It could last a few days or a few hours or a few seconds or it might not work at all. Are you sure you want to do this, Airav?”
“Yes.”
“Why are you doing this?” Ahilya asked Airav quietly.
“Yourconditions—”
“No. Why areyoudoing this?”
“Perhaps I should sacrifice a Maze Architect instead? No, Ahilya-ve, that’s not how a Senior Architect behaves.” Airav considered her. “Besides, I owe a debt of trust to your husband. Iravan is not here to collect, so you will have to do. You should know, Iravan saved Nakshar on multiple occasions. He loved this ashram, more than most councilors I have known, more than his own native city. I hope your actions today do not destroy it.”
“And what will happen to you?”
The Senior Architect raised his brows. “Does it matter now?”
“I suppose not.” Ahilya stole a glance at Dhruv, but her oldest friend in the world was not looking at her. His back had stiffened. What had she thought? That Dhruv would endorse her choices? That he would hug her goodbye? He had already said goodbye in the little speech he’d made. It was as final as anything could be.
Sickened with herself, Ahilya turned away miserably and approached the battery. Wind tugged at her from behind, billowing through her jacket and kurta, but heat radiated off the equipment. The second she sat down, thick, twisty branches began to grow from around the battery and looped over her like a harness, holding her in place, cradling her cast. Other branches grew from the sides, interlocking like a nest. Some of the wind cut out, but she could still see the two men through the gaps in the foliage. Airav’s skin glowed blue-green with the light of trajection.
“Brace yourself,” Dhruv called out.
“Ready!” Airav shouted.
Dhruv flipped the dials in the deathbox. At once, the spiralweed within the forcefield began to expand, its single bubbly leaf engorging. Airav closed his eyes, his chest pumping up and down. Dhruv flicked more switches, and the battery underneath Ahilya warmed, cooled, then warmed again. The nest crisscrossed faster, thickening.
Through the gaps in the branches, Ahilya saw Airav’s entire body buck in his chair. His eyes flew open unseeingly and he began toscream—exceptno sound came out. The tattoos on his skin grew dark like burn welts, scarring like Iravan’s had so long before. Dhruv started to swear, trying to restrain Airav’s seizing body. She was killing Airav, this wasn’t right, she had to stopthis—
Her view cut off.
The nest had thickened. Overlapping branches reached above Ahilya and tied themselves. It was like she was back in the earthrage, except instead of Iravan, it was Airav who was dying. She couldn’t see anything beyond the branches, though she could hear Dhruv shout.
She needed a window. Sobbing, Ahilya focused her attention and gasped, “I-I w-want t-to see.”
The branches in front of her thinned slightly. Airav was still bucking, and the spiralweed within the deathbox was monstrous, its bubbly leaves cracking the glass, but Dhruv waved his arm at Ahilya. She couldn’t tell what he was screaming, but she could see the shape of the word. It was now or never, what did she want, what did shewant?
“Fly,” she whispered.
The orb she was in tilted. Her vision skewed. Breath wrenched out of her as the orb tipped over the edge of the ashram, but the harness held her. Her heart climbed her throat. Her stomach plummeted. The windscreed at her. The rudra beads warmed against her skin, and Ahilya screamed against her will. This wasn’t going to work. They’d failed. She’d killed Airav andherself—
The next moment, the nest jerked as though something had yanked at it from the top.
The branches creaked ominously, nearly bending under the pressure, but the orb stabilized. Ahilya pictured it floating in the air like a dust mote. Nakshar blinked at her, already so far away, a giant wooden oblong bobbing in the sky. The clouds rushed past her and then Nakshar was gone.
