Page 46 of The Surviving Sky
“I know you’re thinking it,” he muttered. “You might as well say it.”
A startled laugh escaped Ahilya. “I’m trying to trust you.”
Iravan sighed. “Yes, architects aren’t supposed to traject when off duty. No, it didn’t stop me before. As a Senior Architect, I’m exempt from certain rules, but I shouldn’t have done it regardless, not without just cause.”
The trajection scars on his skin still burned, looking like welts. The rudra tree had done nothing to heal them. Iravan resisted the urge to feel them below his kurta. It was bad enough he could still see the scars so clearly, warped around his forearms and elbows as though seared permanently. He was no healer, but even he knew for this to occur, the injury was too serious. He might never recover from it, no matter how long he remained at the sanctum. The implications of this thought made him nervous.
“That reminds me,” he said, swallowing. He removed a bracelet with a single black rudra bead from his wrist. “This is for you.”
A corner of Ahilya’s lips lifted in irony. “A little too late to be giving me jewelry, don’t you think?”
He returned a small smile. “Guess I have to start making up somehow.”
When her fingers grazed his palm to pick up the bracelet, it was all Iravan could do to not grasp them. He dropped his hand. Tingles ran up and down his skin.
“So, what is this?” she said, dangling the bracelet on a finger.
“It’s a key. It’ll let you anywhere within theashram—allarchitect-reserved spaces, the sanctum and the orchard, everywhere I can go as a Senior Architect.”
Ahilya’s head lifted sharply. “And the rest of the council? They’re fine with you giving me this? A key so precious?”
“They don’t know,” Iravan replied, holding her gaze.
He had calculated the risk carefully. He didn’t need the bracelet, he could use his other beads in combination, but sharing his permissions was rule-breaking, something Bharavi had warned him against. Yet matters had deteriorated far too much between him and Ahilya. A few books from the architects’ archives were not going to cut it; she was too clever; she could see right through him. He needed to go beyond his boundaries, a real indication of remorse for his mistakes. None of this was truly swaying her, Iravan knew, but he did not have the luxury of time and subtlety. He gripped his wheelchair, then forced himself to release it.
“I know you’re thinking it,” Ahilya said, a ghost of a smile on her face. “You might as well say it.”
He didn’t smile back. “You’re trying to trust me. The least I can do is return it.”
Ahilya didn’t take her eyes off the bracelet as she donned it and tucked it beneath her kurta sleeve. “I’ll be discreet, Iravan.”
He breathed in relief again and nodded his thanks. They crossed a wooden bridge, away from the forest bazaar, down another ramp, this one toward areas frequented by architects.
At once, the architecture changed. The ramp circled into a spacious clearing, where a tall sungineered waterfall gushed into a glistening stream. Flowers grew in abundance, lilies, tulips, even cherry blossoms, which took special effort to grow beyond their trees. Each bush was meticulously pruned, caressed into aesthetic shapes. Iravan could almost see the complex constellation lines that were being maintained to keep the design intact. A few Junior Architects in their green kurtas bustled past, bowing at him hurriedly. Then he and Ahilya were alone, facing an archway of thick, golden leaves over a wide bark wall.
Ahilya froze, her hand on her wrist, staring at the archway.
For an instant, Iravan did not understand her hesitation.
But then he was transported back to the days he had been in training. Fresh from Yeikshar, as a Junior Architect of twenty, he’d seen Ahilya for the first time when she’d visited the Academy as part of a citizen tour. Iravan had become so bewitched by her intelligent eyes and her sardonic smile that he’d fumbled his trajection and been knocked off his feet by a whiplashing root. He had sought her out the next day.
He had thought the story romantic; all the men, women, and many others he had ever been with, no one had affected him in such a way before. But it had taken Ahilya’s constant early rejections of him to fully acknowledge his incomplete perception of the event. The tour had been calculated to show citizens what they’d never have. It was meant to cement admiration for the architects. A young Iravan had been confused and aghast.
“Tap the bracelet,” he said to her now quietly. “Focus your desire on the Academy.”
Ahilya’s gaze moved to him, wondering, slow. She tapped the bracelet silently, her finger trembling.
The bark in front of them creaked open, but Ahilya didn’t move, the tear tracks shocking in her chalky face. Shame throbbed in Iravan. This was the same woman who had been fearless in the jungle, fearless with the yaksha. What had he andNakshar—anashramhecounseled—doneto her? The weight in his chest grew heavier. Silently, he whisked his wheelchair forward and preceded her into the Academy.
14
AHILYA
Iravan’s bracelet felt warm on her wrist. Ahilya fidgeted with it, rolling it back, pushing it forward, incredulous still that she wore it. Iravan had handed over, quite literally, the power of Nakshar’s council. Discomfort nagged at her, like a thorn under her skin. She had not earned this yet; she didn’t deserve it. Ahilya tugged the rudra bead again, feeling its unfamiliar weight.
Then she realized she was gathering attention.
The archway had led into a wide indoor courtyard shaped like a quadrangle. Multiple levels in burnished gold wood overlooked the courtyard as though Ahilya were in a hollow, square tower. Robe-covered students in their green and gray kurta-trouser uniforms milled about in clusters, and leaned over the balconies. Several called out to Iravan, who waved, but as their eyes fell on Ahilya, curiosity and contempt replaced the admiration. Whispered giggles broke out in muted derision. Ahilya’s cheeks burned.
