Page 34 of The Surviving Sky
“It was you. You sent heraway—”
“I only wanted to spend some timewith—”
“You threatened myexpedition—”
“No,” he said quickly. “That wasn’tmy—”
“You were supposed to be at thewatchpost—”
“Yes,but—”
“You killed Oam,” she sobbed.
Her accusation hit him like a physical blow. Iravan recoiled.
I killed him. She was right. He remembered it now. He’d torn his own magnaroot armor off. He’d unraveled his own vortex of jungle plants. But in the end, in that moment of choice, he had chosen to save himself. He’d pushed himself and Ahilya into Nakshar with the last of his energy and letgo—he’dlet go—of Oam.
Iravan’s hands shook and tears blurred his vision. He blinked them back.
“I—I,”he began, but then he glanced at Bharavi, who shook her head emphatically. “I saved you,” he said.
Bharavi’s nod was nearly imperceptible.
Iravan tried to remember. He’d made the choice, between himself and Oam. That was right, wasn’t it? It’s what the council would say. He had followed protocol. Each person embodied the potential of an ashram, but the life of a Senior Architect was worth much more than any citizen. A Senior Architect sustained the ashram. Had there been another architect out there instead of Ahilya, Iravan would have had to savethem. That wasprotocol.
“I saved you,” he choked out, trying to believe it. “If I hadn’t been out in the jungle, you wouldn’t have made it back toNakshar—”
“This wouldn’t have happened if you had stayed in Nakshar in the first place! If you’d been here to sound the alarm!”
Iravan’s vision edged with crimson. The pounding in his head worsened. Bharavi’s face was inscrutable, but to him there was almost entirely too much expression there. She wanted him to say something.
“This is not about the alarm,” he mumbled. “This is about trajection. About interference. This is bigger than what happened in the jungle.”
Chaiyya drew in a breath.
Bharavi frowned.
Iravan regretted the words the moment he uttered them.
“How dare you?” Ahilya spat. “He’s dead, Iravan. He was just a foolish boy with a harmless infatuation. Were you jealous? Was that it?”
Iravan blinked at her. This was wrong. They shouldn’t be fighting. Not in front of these people. Not at all.
“Ahilya,” he began, but she cut him off.
“If you’d been at the watchpost, where you were supposed to be, none of this would have happened. If you’d sounded the alarm, we’d all have returned in time.”
Iravan stared at her. Her reaction, it was natural,obvious. Why hadn’t he predicted it? He opened his mouth, trying again, but Chaiyya beat him to a response.
“You’re right,” the Senior Architect said quietly. “You’re right, Ahilya. Please, calm. Calm.” The Nakshar-native woman, her long hair caught in a braid, held up her hands. “This is a grave error. You will have your justice. You have my word.”
“The word of a Senior Architect?” Ahilya said. “Regarding anon-architect’s life? I’m no starry-eyed girl, Chaiyya. I know how this world works.”
Chaiyya flinched. Ahilya pushed past her and strode away to the closest leafy wall, her body shaking.
The temple didn’t react to her. Like Nakshar itself, the temple could only be accessed by a Senior Architect or a key unless permissions were changed. Iravan prepared totraject—thethought made himnauseous—butthe other architects flared blue-green underneath their robes, and the wall in front of Ahilya unfurled in a creak of branches and twigs.
Without a glance toward him, Ahilya marched away into the darkness.
