The Lotus Empire (The Burning Kingdoms #3)

Chapter 49 Priya

PRIYA

It was first light, the blue-white of milk, when Priya drew near the lake.

She could feel the water—deep, stagnant, and still, with hundreds of lotus flowers blooming from silt-tangled stems. Utpala Lake . She’d seen it in the knowledge Mani Ara had gifted her of the sleeping yaksa and where to find them. It was the place she’d shown to Malini in a dream, so that Malini would know where to seek her out.

She could not feel Malini’s presence, no matter how she searched, all the tendrils of her magic seeking Malini out. Instead beyond the lake, far beyond, she felt dense forest. Beneath that forest, the yaksa Mani Ara had shown her was shifting restlessly—a consciousness awakening, uncoiling under soil, responding to her presence.

The yaksa would have to awaken alone. Priya could not help them now.

The lake was ringed by a caravanserai—a place for travelers to rest, and a market all at once. It should have been bustling, noisy. But it was silent.

No one was here.

It was not a trap. Traps were meant to be subtle. The silence of the caravanserai was an invitation. Malini had prepared the way. Malini was expecting her.

Priya walked through the gates of the caravanserai, which were open and unguarded. The caravanserai was a ring of empty tents and stalls.

At its center, the lake was a vast blue disc, rich with flowers the color of wrist veins. She walked toward it, stood by the water’s edge, and watched the lotuses.

She could sense no rot in them. She sat on the edge of the lake and placed her legs in the water. Her clothes grew wet—the end of her tunic billowed, white going blue-black in the murky dark.

Time passed. And passed. There was no sign of Malini. She breathed out, and in, and made flowers grow around the edges of the caravanserai’s walls. Jasmine flowers, mostly, darted with needle-flower.

Maybe she had lied to herself. Maybe the dream had just been a dream after all. Perhaps Malini hadn’t understood.

Perhaps the only future that truly lay ahead of her was as a hollow gourd—a perfectly formed vessel for Mani Ara. Herself, and not herself. There would be no escape from those shining thorn teeth, that voice that called her beloved and sapling , and asked her to break and break and break.

“Thank you for announcing yourself so clearly,” a voice said. In the quiet of the empty caravanserai it carried—a dark, winged bird, settling in Priya’s ears, Priya’s heart. “I wasn’t sure when you would come.”

Priya lifted her feet out of the water, stood, and turned. And there she was. Malini.

The same, always the same as Priya had dreamt her: slim and tall, with that braid of curling black hair, those gray eyes that could pin you and hold you. She was unsmiling. She wore white—a white sari, pleated to a knife edge—and armor over her torso.

Priya reached for her power. There was no need to make the earth tremor or force thorns through the soil, not yet—but she held them ready. Malini’s gaze was unwavering, but there was something in her eyes—something that said she knew .

“There’s no need for that, Priya,” she said softly, confirming it. “Come out of the water.”

Priya stepped from the water. In the green, she could feel nothing and no one.

“Where are your guards?” Priya asked. “Your warriors? I can’t feel them. I can’t feel you.” A step closer. “Why can’t I feel you?”

“I’m alone.”

“You wouldn’t have come here alone. Not to face me.”

“I faced Chandra without my guards or warriors,” Malini said calmly, her face lovely and empty. “I faced him on faith alone.”

“You took a risk facing him, but you knew it gave you the best chance against him. You had… allies…” Priya’s voice trailed off. Malini was walking toward her, alive and real and in the flesh before her.

“I think perhaps you are my ally against yourself,” Malini said, drawing closer. Priya heard the clink of the saber at her hip. The gold at her throat and wrists shone. “Why did you tell me where to find you?”

So Mani Ara could not use me. So I could be taken beyond her reach. So I could carve a third path.

“Maybe I want to see what you’ll do, Malini,” she said. “Now that you have me.”

“Ah, Priya,” she said. “I do not have you yet.”

“You think I’ll fight?”

Malini exhaled and smiled. She reached up, carelessly touching the gold at her throat. “Will you?”

“Will you try to kill me?”

Malini’s eyes were black as pitch, her expression soft in a way that told Priya her hatred ran deep, as deep as the deathless waters beneath the Hirana itself.

“I will treat you with exactly the same courtesy you extended to me, of course,” said Malini. “What else?”

Priya clenched and unclenched her hands. Preparing. Not her body, perhaps. But her heart.

“You have more right to my death than almost anyone,” Priya said. “If anyone could kill me… But I won’t die yet. I don’t want to.”

Malini’s body moved, swiftly, and Priya didn’t wait to see what she’d do with their closeness—what saber Malini would set through her stomach, what needle she’d jab into her throat. The ground erupted around them both. A wall of earth and rock to keep Malini at bay, and more thorns erupting from the ground to push her back, back, back. Priya was a fool, she knew it, but even now she didn’t want to hurt her. Even now…

Malini leapt forward and looped the necklace of gold that had been around her own throat over Priya’s neck with all the reverence of a wedding garland.

Then she tightened her fist, turning the necklace into a noose.

The second it touched her skin, Priya felt what lay under that gold. Something cold and dark that grasped her power and strangled it. The weapon that had hurt Ganam. The stone on the knife.

The ground went still. She gave a choked breath, and another, and the necklace loosened but did not leave her throat.

Figures appeared out of the darkness. Soldiers.

“You’re right,” Malini said. “I lied. I didn’t come alone. Will you yield, Priya?”

“No,” she bit out. She looked around for an escape. But Malini, clever Malini, had her trapped already.

“You made this so simple,” Malini said. “I thought you would try harder.”

The soldiers drew in closer.

Priya hadn’t felt their approach. The stone they carried—the stone around her throat—had concealed them from her magic. Just like it had concealed Malini. She tried to jerk away, but Malini’s hand did not relent—and her other hand was rising, holding a blade by the hilt.

Holding the blade to Priya’s throat.

“I know you don’t need your gifts to fight,” Malini whispered. “Move, and I cut. So, my love. Will you come with me?”

The only answer was yes.