The Lotus Empire (The Burning Kingdoms #3)

Chapter 60 Malini

MALINI

Malini woke and for a long moment thought she was dreaming. Priya was there, after all—standing by the window, a knife held laxly in her hand. Priya was watching her, something soft in the shape of her mouth and her eyes. This had to be a dream.

A passing cloud shifted. Moonlight on Priya’s face. Malini saw the shape of bruises on her limbs. The strange shadow of flowers, a tracery under Priya’s skin.

Malini sat up.

“Where are my guards?” she asked.

“Not dead,” Priya said, voice low. “I tied them up and gagged them.” She lifted a hand in the air. The cuffs of heart’s shell were gone. “They weren’t expecting me to have any power.”

There was a knife flecked with heart’s shell under Malini’s own pillow. She slid back and grasped it with a flick of her hand. For now she kept it concealed, and kept her eyes on Priya’s.

“I could run,” Priya said. “But nothing has changed. I let myself be caught. I don’t want to leave until I’ve bargained with you.”

“Then bargain with me,” Malini said.

Priya moved away from the window and began to walk toward her. She’d always walked quietly. That hadn’t changed. Her shoulders were squared, her gait confident. The mocking sharpness had left her, and she was just Priya again, strong and clear-eyed, and it made Malini’s blood burn.

“If you want to negotiate with me,” Malini said, “why do you carry a knife?”

“I have to be able to protect myself.”

“You have your power again. You have no need for a weapon. There was only one moment when you needed a blade, and I paid the price.” Malini kept her eyes on Priya’s. “Put it down.”

She saw Priya’s hesitation. Saw Priya’s body bend, as she moved to lower the blade.

Malini surged to her feet, heart’s-shell knife in hand. Priya swore as Malini stabbed the blade toward her. She caught Malini’s wrist, her grip iron, her thumb pressing the bones of her wrist so precisely that Malini dropped the blade with nerveless fingers. Malini tried to wrench her hand back, and when that failed, she drew a plain dagger from a band of cloth bound to her waist. It was unmarked by heart’s shell, but it would do.

“You sleep with two knives?” Priya asked, incredulous.

“I sleep with three,” Malini corrected, and slashed at the arm holding her own.

Priya released her, shoving her back. Malini stumbled, finding her feet, as Priya fled the bedchamber.

Malini had an empress’s rooms—multi-chambered and vast, with so many shadows for Priya to dive into. But she did not need to see Priya to know where she was. She could suddenly feel her, that tug of magic binding them a guiding star. She ran after her as Priya crossed the room—as Priya grasped the movable lattice at a window, wrenched it open, and jumped. Malini went to the window and looked down.

Below were Malini’s private gardens.

Malini didn’t think.

She jumped out after her.

It should have hurt. But the ground met her softly, grasped her and held her steady. She straightened and kept on running, following Priya, who was quick, quicker than Malini could hope to be, who turned, her tangled hair whirling with her, and cried, “I’m not trying to fight you but I won’t let you carve me—”

“Surely it’s my turn,” Malini snapped back. The ground rumbled under them. The knife was jolted from her hand and she was darting forward, reaching out hands to grasp at Priya.

Priya froze, stumbling. Going still. Malini had grasped her. But not with hands.

There were green stems rising out of the soil, tangling up Priya’s arms, holding them together. And Malini’s skin was thrumming—her chest ached, livid and sweet.

Priya’s eyes were wide.

“Malini,” she whispered.