Page 26 of Queen of Shadows and Ruin (The Nightfire Quartet #4)

TWENTY-FIVE

Yasen stood with an elbow propped up on the mantel of some snooty noble’s home. With the manor compromised, Miraan had appealed to a friend for shelter and a place to hide from Dishani’s wrath.

Rudra seemed nice enough, but Yasen was wary of trusting him to keep their presence a secret. Miraan had contacted more of his rich friends and invited them to discuss the rebellion. Now the seven men sat facing each other, talking and arguing.

“Miraan, this is madness,” one of them said. Yasen thought his name was Pransh. “Your family will kill you.”

“I don’t care,” Miraan said, and Yasen did his best to restrain a loud sigh. Miraan kept saying he didn’t care about his life or his safety. But Yasen cared. Maybe a little too much.

“Where are the vanshaj now?” Rudra asked. “How are they faring?”

“Hiding in the forest,” Miraan said. “I will not reveal their location. But they are gathering weapons and training in combat and their new magic. They will attempt another coup if my sister won’t listen to reason.”

“And what of those left in the city?” Pransh asked.

“They’re trying to get everyone out. It must be done slowly and cautiously, lest they draw the attention of the Jadugara,” Miraan said.

Yasen listened as they all discussed strategies and ideas, weighing the pros and cons, some more willing than others to throw their lot in with Miraan.

“Do you know anything of this army my sister is bringing in?” Miraan asked.

“I don’t,” Rudra answered. “At first, I assumed it must be the Kiraaye Ka, but I’ve spoken with their captain, and he confirms he hasn’t been in contact with the princess.”

Yasen raised an eyebrow, wondering why this fancy noble was in communication with the mercenary leader from Bhaavana.

“Then who?” Pransh asked.

“I don’t know,” Miraan answered.

They resumed their conversation for a while longer until they agreed to meet again tomorrow. They hadn’t come to any definite conclusions, but Yasen was relieved that some were willing to help.

After the door closed on the last visitor, Rudra excused himself, stating he had business to attend. When they were alone, Yasen said, “I need to get going. Row is taking me to Dharati soon.”

“I still don’t know about this plan,” Miraan said.

“Dharati is my home. And I’ll be with Row. He’s a badass who no one would cross.”

Miraan’s mouth pressed together. “I’ll still worry.”

“I’m worried about you, too. What are you planning next?” Yasen asked.

“I still want to get through to my family,” Miraan said. “I refuse to believe they don’t want to find a way to fix this.”

“You can’t return to the palace.”

Miraan ran a hand through his hair, his gaze unfocused. “No, but Rudra said he’s willing to meet with Dishani on my behalf.”

He stopped talking, and Yasen sensed something he wasn’t saying.

“What?” Yasen asked, his awareness prickling with worry.

Miraan’s gaze pinged to him. “I wonder if we can appeal to my father. Technically, he is in charge until Dishani’s coronation and his orders would supersede hers. Just because he’s never done so and has always defaulted to my sister doesn’t mean it’s the only way.”

“Sure, piss her off a little more. She’ll love that.”

“She’s leaving me no choice,” he answered, his voice full of buried emotion.

“Then what’s your plan?”

“To invite them to a mutual safe space—I trust that neither my father nor Talin would betray me. I think they’re too scared to do anything independently, but I’m not afraid of Dishani.”

Yasen stared at the prince and the determination in his eyes. He didn’t want to admit to himself that he was falling for this man. There was something enduring and noble in how he bore everything with grace and calm. He was beautiful on the inside and out. Despite his stern exterior, Miraan had a heart that bled gold.

Miraan looked at Yasen, and their gazes met. He didn’t understand what he read in the prince’s expression. He didn’t know what to expect or even what he wanted. He was a prince, and if things continued, perhaps he was destined to become a king.

The female line had always ruled Gi’ana, but he was confident Zarya didn’t want the job, and as he’d said, just because something had always been done a certain way, it didn’t mean it always had to be so.

“What are you thinking?” Miraan asked, stirring Yasen out of his thoughts.

He blinked and sighed. “That…I’m wondering where this leads.” He gestured between them, and Miraan strode over instantly, cupping Yasen’s face in his hands before his lips crashed into his. Miraan kissed him deeply, his mouth hot and his tongue probing.

Yasen clung on, almost like he was drowning. And maybe he was. Sinking into the soft, dark eyes and the stoic expression of a prince with so much riding on his shoulders.

They pulled apart, their foreheads touching.

“Be careful,” Miraan said.

“You, too.”

Then Yasen pulled away and turned to leave, trying not to think of everything he stood to lose.

A few hours later, Yasen and Row left for Dharati. They arrived inside the haveli, away from the scrutiny of prying eyes. As Row’s magic dissipated around them, Yasen blinked several times to shake off his dizziness, stumbling as he reached for a table to steady himself.

“Sorry,” Row said. “It isn’t the most pleasant way to travel. I actually avoid it as much as possible, to be honest.”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Yasen said. “I love having my eyes squeezed to the point of bursting.”

He shook his head, blinking heavily several times, casting away the last of his disorientation before inhaling a deep breath.

He’d been nervous about returning to Dharati for a variety of reasons. While his departure had been justified—or at least he’d done an adequate job of convincing himself of that—he couldn’t shake the guilt that had followed him for months.

Vikram needed him, and Yasen had run as far away as possible. But he’d spent most of his life being there for Vikram, and while he’d never expected anything in return, it had also been time to look out for himself.

“You ready?” Row asked as he crossed the living room with a purposeful stride.

“We’re going now?” Yasen asked.

“No time like the present, is there?”

Yasen pushed himself from the wall. “I suppose not.”

They exited the haveli and crossed the plaza towards the Jai Palace. Yasen had always loved the sight of those sky-blue gates and the flowering canopy casting its shadow over the city. It had always felt like protection, and though he’d never admit it out loud, it also felt like a warm hug.

His gaze scanned the plaza full of people holding signs with messages about freeing the vanshaj, chanting and shouting at everyone who passed. Row’s and Yasen’s gazes met before proceeding through the crowd.

They drew up to the gates, studying the guards who were monitoring the protestors with a wary eye.

“Aren’t you worried about being arrested?” Yasen asked, referring to the near miss in the library with Zarya and Rabin a few weeks ago.

“Not particularly,” Row answered. Perhaps it made sense. Row was pretty ancient and probably had seen some shit. He could handle a few measly palace guards. “You’re the one arriving with me,” he continued. “Maybe you should be worried.”

“Already ahead of you,” Yasen grumbled. A few soldiers recognized Row immediately, their eyes narrowing with suspicion. He raised his hands in a placating gesture.

“I need to speak with the steward,” Row said.

“You are under arrest,” a guard replied.

“I understand Vikram is unhappy with me, but if you’d just tell him I need to speak with him, I will enter your dungeons without a fuss.”

Yasen offered Row a curious, side-eyed look, but Row’s expression suggested he was being entirely sincere.

“If he won’t see Row, tell Vik that his best friend is here,” Yasen said. The guards noticed him then, and they immediately straightened. Lazy bastards.

“Commander,” the head guard said. “I’m… I’m… sorry… I…”

“It’s fine,” he replied with a wave of his hand. “But must we stand out here any longer?”

“Of course not,” the guard said with a bow. “The steward is currently with the queen. Follow me.”

Then he spun on his heel, leaving Row and Yasen to follow.

“Probably should have started with that,” Row said, and Yasen snorted.

“Probably.”

They entered the tall doors admitting them into Amrita’s throne room. Yasen took in the sight of the shiny black and white tiles and the metallic flowers in pink, blue, and green. He scanned the high dome overhead, noting the leaf-covered ceilings and walls, and couldn’t help but feel like something was off .

The air was heavy and cloying, and he wondered if he smelled the barest hint of rot. He shook his head as they approached. Amrita looked different, too. Instead of her usual nut browns and fresh greens, her bark had turned nearly black and her leaves into midnight emeralds.

Yasen swallowed at the sight of the baby hovering in her stomach. The clear seed allowed one to view the twisted tangle of roots and leaves within. It shone with an inner light, casting a gentle glow over the room. He stared at it for several long seconds as he straddled a line between horrified and fascinated.

Finally, he turned his attention towards Vikram, who stood by Amrita, watching them both. He looked different, too—thinner, tired, with dark circles under his eyes. He was dressed casually in a cotton kurta with the top buttons undone, the fabric a bit wrinkled. His hair, always neatly trimmed and styled, hung in his eyes in desperate need of a cut.

Yasen blinked as guilt flared in his gut. He had no idea Vikram had been under so much stress. Their letters had been sporadic at best, while Yasen had attempted to leave his past behind. But seeing his oldest friend like this churned up a rush of ashamed feelings.

“Vik,” he breathed as he crossed the room and threw his arms around him. Vikram took a few seconds to respond, his arms slowly circling Yasen. They stood there together for several long moments before they pulled apart.

“Are you okay?” Yasen asked. “You don’t look great.”

Vikram stared distantly, almost as if he didn’t recognize him before his gaze cleared.

“Yasen, it’s so good to see you. I’m fine. Just tired with the baby coming and everything…” He waved a hand as he trailed off. Yasen narrowed his eyes as Vikram turned towards Amrita and stared up at her with a blank expression. When he said nothing else, Yasen exchanged an uncomfortable glance with Row.

“Vik?” Yasen asked.

Vikram turned and blinked like he was surprised to find them standing there.

“You should join me for dinner,” Vikram said. “How long are you staying?”

Again, Yasen and Row looked at one another.

“We were hoping to talk to you about the vanshaj,” Row said carefully. “The rebellions in the north are growing, and we need support. The Madans refuse to hear reason, and we thought Dharati might be interested in leading the charge and defending what is right.”

“The vanshaj,” Vikram said. “Yes…”

“Vik,” Yasen said. “Are you okay? You don’t seem like yourself.”

Vikram brought a hand to his forehead and rubbed it. “I’m fine.” He took a few steps towards Amrita, laying his hand against her to communicate in their silent way. Yasen’s gaze drifted around the room, wandering over the abundance of leaves and flowers when it snagged on a chilling sight.

A dark spot.

He squinted, trying to determine if it was simply a trick of the light, but he was sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him. He continued searching, studying every leaf and petal, finally noticing the barest outline of black along the edges.

His stomach dropped as he noticed more tiny pinpoints peppering the leaves and vines. They blended into the surroundings so well that they were nearly undetectable, but surely someone had noticed this?

“Vik, why does Amrita look so different?” Yasen asked.

Vikram blinked heavily. “We believe it’s a side effect of the pregnancy.”

“You believe? You don’t know for sure?”

Vikram shook his head. “I just assumed. I hadn’t really thought about it.”

Row was now giving Yasen a quizzical look.

How many others had recently seen the queen?

“When did the change start happening?” Yasen asked. “Before or after Koura left?”

Vikram’s brows drew together as though he was having trouble recalling. “After. Definitely after.”

“So, he hasn’t seen this?”

Yasen took a step closer, placing one foot on the dais and approaching the baby. He waited to see if Vikram would stop him, but he allowed Yasen to move closer. He peered into the clear seed, attempting to parse out the various parts of the child growing within, searching for further evidence of the rot.

A moment later, Row came up behind him.

“What’s going on?” he asked in a low voice.

“Look around you,” Yasen said. “Do you notice it?”

Row followed the line where Yasen was pointing before he paused, and then his eyes widened the barest fraction.

“What…” he said before he trailed off, and a look of dread passed between them.

Vikram was watching them both now, and then Yasen noticed something very strange. Vikram’s emerald green eyes were darker than usual. At first, Yasen had played it off as a trick of the light, but there was no mistaking it now.

What was happening?

“Vik,” Yasen asked. “Have you seen any more demons in Dharati?”

“No,” he replied almost immediately. “We got rid of them all. Don’t you remember? The darkness is gone.”

But it wasn’t. Yasen didn’t have magic and didn’t know much about it, but he’d talked enough with Zarya to know it wasn’t gone. They had simply beaten it back. Her magic, Vikas’s magic, were proof of that.

“Have you noticed those?” Yasen asked, pointing to one of the black spots on the roof. Vikram should be able to see it clearly, but he squinted and then scratched his nose.

“Oh yes. I’ve been wondering about those.”

“How long have they been there?” Row asked.

Vikram shook his head. “Not long. A few weeks?” He rubbed his chest, and the pit in Yasen’s stomach grew.

“Let’s check her roots,” Row said. “I…think we should go below.”

Yasen nodded as he stared up again. When the blight had broken through decades ago, it hadn’t touched the queen. What did this mean?

“We’re going to look around,” Yasen said, addressing Vikram. “Okay?”

“Of course. You’ll join me for dinner after you get some rest?”

“Sure,” Yasen said, and then they veritably stumbled out of the Jai Tree and into the courtyard. Again, Yasen scanned overhead, searching for signs of the rot.

“Do you see anything?” Row asked before Yasen pointed.

There it was again—the faintest black outline around the shimmering flower petals.

“What does it mean?” Yasen asked. “We’re sure this didn’t happen last time?”

Row shook his head. “I’d stake my life on it,” he answered.

“Let’s go down.”

A row of soldiers approached, clearly intent on arresting Row as promised.

“The steward pardoned him,” Yasen said quickly. They really didn’t have time for this nonsense.

The soldier in front opened his mouth, but Yasen waved him off. “Go and ask him yourself. Until then, we have more important things to worry about.”

Then they brushed past, entered the palace, and approached one of the staircases leading to Amrita’s roots. Yasen held his breath as they circled down the tight spiral to be greeted by a terrifying sight.

The blight had found its way back into Dharati.

Blackened roots spread before them, everything covered in the rot that had plagued Daragaab for years.

Yasen exhaled a shocked breath as his heart beat against his ribs.

The darkness.

It had returned.