The Lotus Empire (The Burning Kingdoms #3)

Chapter 53 Priya

PRIYA

Her prison in Parijat was more comfortable than she’d expected. There was a bed. A window. Slack on her ankle chain. Really, she couldn’t complain.

It took two days, judging by the movement of the guards and the rise and fall of the sun, for Malini to come to her.

Malini waited until it was late night, dark apart from a few crackling lanterns, the glow of a guard’s cheroot. The door was thrown open and something pushed through it. She heard Malini’s voice:

“Leave us.”

No protests. Only footsteps.

She heard the whisper of skirts. A clink of something against stone. She stood. Stepped forward.

On the ground, beyond the door, under a slant of watery light from through the bars…

“Wine,” Priya said out loud. She’d never hungered for wine, not really—but now she craned forward and snatched up the bottle. It was cold in her hands; it had clearly been stored in darkness, just like her. She opened it, the smell meeting her nose: sharpness, acid, and beneath that, something deep and mellow that made her mouth water.

She raised her head, meeting Malini’s eyes through the lattice. She offered her a smile, sharp with teeth. “Be honest with me, Malini,” she said. “Is it laced with needle-flower? Poisoned? Have we swapped roles? Will a sip of this kill me?”

Malini did not speak, but her shoulders did stiffen. Her face went tight. It made Priya laugh, something bitter and malicious cracking in her chest. What else could she do but laugh? “You have to admit it feels like something you would do,” Priya said through her own laughter. “I know you well enough to know that.”

She lifted it to her mouth and drank. And drank. She could only hear the blood in her own skull. The click of her own throat.

“Well? Have you decided if I’ve poisoned you yet?”

Malini’s voice.

“If you wanted to kill me there are simpler ways,” Priya said, leaning her head back against the wall. The stone was cool under her skull. “You could have strangled me. You could have slit my throat.”

“Yes.” Malini’s voice would have been unreadable to someone else. But Priya could hear the anger in it. She’d learned the song of Malini a long time ago. The language was still with her, in her. “That would be simple. Swift.”

“Oh, and you don’t like swift, do you? Not for your enemies.” Not for me. She took another deep slug of wine. She hadn’t eaten much earlier of the food her guards had practically kicked into the room. She knew the wine was going to hit her hard, like a fist. She wasn’t entirely sure she cared. Seeing Malini there had already set a fire in her blood—left her furious and elated, a sharp and shivering nerve of a woman. “Well, there are other ways to kill me slowly too. You could leave me down here alone to starve. You could torture me. You could hold the knife yourself. You’d probably enjoy that.”

Malini said nothing. Perhaps she was imagining the pleasure of that act. Perhaps she was disgusted.

“Don’t pretend you wouldn’t,” Priya said finally.

“I didn’t say a word,” Malini replied. Her voice was terrible in its calm—in the anger rising under that apparent serenity, a dark fist, a clenched thing. “You dreamt with me. You know what I want. What I feel.”

Priya thought of Malini’s hands on her mouth, and her knife parting Priya’s ribs, blood and flowers blooming in its wake. She thought of the gentleness of Malini’s mouth, the demand of her hands on Priya’s waist, her thighs.

“I’ve read what I can of your Birch Bark Mantras,” Malini said. “Are there any tales beyond the Birch Bark Mantras, Priya, of the cruelty of your yaksa? The evil of them?” Malini was leaning forward, all the tension in her face sharpening her gaze, her voice, to a blade. “So many soft, tender tales of love, and none of them true.”

“Tender? Soft? I thought you of all people would understand the tales better than that,” Priya said. “You can love something knowing it can destroy you. Maybe you love it more for it.”

Malini’s mouth tightened.

“Once, I read those tales to better know you. And now—”

“Now you still don’t know me,” Priya cut in.

Malini stared back at her. “Then let me know you. Why did you let me take you?”

Maybe that was why Malini had given her the liquor. Not out of kindness—Priya had never truly believed it was out of kindness—nor out of a desire to poison Priya. Maybe Malini had just wanted to unspool her, untether her—to leave her light and open and more likely to speak foolishly. To let something slip that she couldn’t afford for Malini to know.

Something like I let you take me. I let you. I’m using you too, Malini, my love, biding my time—

“I learned firsthand in Srugna that you finally have a weapon that will kill us without killing you,” Priya said. “Congratulations.” She drank again. Courage. Leaned forward. “Your heart’s shell might be enough to kill the yaksa. I want to help you use it.”

“You want to help me,” Malini said flatly. “ You. I know how the yaksa are written into you. In your magic, your nature, your faith, and your history.” Her hand curled around one of the bars. “Don’t lie to me, Priya. You’re no good at it.”

“I’m not lying,” said Priya.

“You betrayed me for your yaksa. Rot spreads across Parijatdvipa, and my people are dying. You should be happy. Why would you help me now?”

“Because the rot infects Ahiranyi people too,” said Priya. “Our fields. Our flesh. I’ve learned… I understand…” A deep breath, mind swimming. “If the yaksa succeed, everyone will be rot-riven. Everything and everyone that matters to you and to me will be lost. I can’t allow that. So I’m here.”

“When I win, Priya,” Malini said slowly, “there will be no Ahiranya. My people want to obliterate your land, and I see little reason not to allow it.”

“ When ,” Priya repeated, mockery curling her mouth. “There’s no when , Malini. You’ve lost your war. The yaksa already have the world, don’t they? You told me yourself. The rot is all over the empire. If you want to destroy the yaksa, you need my knowledge. No one in the world knows the yaksa like I do. You need me. And in return, you’ll need to ensure that the Ahiranyi people survive. How can you reject a bargain like that?”

Malini’s mouth thinned.

“Fine,” Malini said. “Let’s play at negotiating. Let’s pretend there is a way through this, where I do more than leave you to molder here in the dark, forgotten.”

Priya grinned at her and watched Malini stare at the shape of her mouth—the gleam of her teeth in the half dark.

“Thank you, Malini,” she said. “That’s all I want.”