The answer was etched across her soft features before she replied. “Yes.”

“Then I’m proud of you.”

Kavya stood abruptly. “Don’t condescend, Heretic. It’s beneath even your low opinion of me.”

“My opinion of you is . . .”

She stared down at him. For all his strength and the thunderstorm of his gift, he was beneath her in unnerving ways. “Is what, Tallis?”

“Changing.”

Chandrani climbed the slight rise. “Kavya, I brought food.”

The women quickly embraced and continued up the slope toward a clump of evergreens. Kavya briefly looked over her shoulder—the most minute invitation. Tallis had been waiting for it.

“He doesn’t deserve any more from us,” Chandrani said coldly.

“He saved our lives.”

“And put yours in danger.”

Kavya shook her head. “I put myself in danger. What did you find?”

Chandrani unloaded a burlap sack of crusty bread, hard cheese, fruit, a hairbrush, homemade soap, and bottles of water. “It was the best I could do with what I had.”

With a hearty clap to the woman’s back, stronger than Tallis would’ve imagined, Kavya smiled. “Don’t apologize. This is far more than I expected.”

They ate in silence, before each descended into town to find water for washing. Tallis’s urge to follow Kavya was strong.

Chandrani stood overlooking the impoverished houses below. Her face was blunt, with a square jaw and a strong nose. A graceful brow was all that saved her from appearing overly masculine.

“Will you tell me more about her?” he asked.

“If she wishes to tell, then you’ll learn who she is.” Chandrani readjusted her scabbard and checked the position of her saber. The curving blade was so long that it reached below her knee. “But know that she keeps secrets even from me.”

Tallis couldn’t help a rueful smile. “You’ll probably be insulted, but that doesn’t surprise me.”

“I . . .” The woman glanced around. Even in the midst of their conversation—seemingly as awkward for her as it was for him—she kept her eyes alert for trouble. They were allies paired for but a day.

He picked up another handful of pine needles to shred. “What is it?”

“I’m glad you stopped her from assuming another Mask.”

“Oh?”

“In the days after she takes on another, I hardly recognize her thoughts. Only pieces of her come through. Until she gets a handle on the new layer, she isn’t herself.” Chandrani looked down. A bowed head didn’t suit her. “I’ve feared that after another Mask . . . she might not find her way clear.”

Tallis nodded with an expression that suited the woman’s frank admission. “Then I’m even more glad I did what I did.”

—

Revitalized after a good washing, Kavya wanted to squirm because of the steady attention Tallis paid her. He was infuriating—strange, uncomfortable, wholly unknown. He was speaking some other language. Not the guttural force of the Pendray’s incomprehensible words, nor her own people’s elegant tongue. He spoke with his intense expression and the temptation of his azure gaze.

And those unnerving silences. He’d hardly said a word during their descent. She could barely keep herself from shouting, “Say something!” Anything to better understand the man who was both enemy and ally.

So . . . she would learn to speak his language. Verbalize her thoughts. Spar with him. Try to keep up. No way was she going to be tied into knots by this man.

“You were right,” she said plainly, standing before him.

He crossed his arms. The leather of his coat creaked around the motion. He was intimidating, with seaxes crossed behind his back and no softness in his perfectly symmetrical, perfectly formed features. “This I must hear.”

“Do you want to make swallowing my pride any more difficult?”

“I want you to remember it, so it’s not so difficult next time.”

“You expect there will be a next time?”

“I may be confused out of my skull, but on occasion, I make the right choices and say sensible things. What did I do, goddess?”

“Pashkah would’ve killed me had he found me alone behind the altar.”

Chandrani made a sound of protest in her throat. “Kavya, you can’t think—”

“I don’t mean it as an insult to you, my friend. Against what appeared to be twenty Black Guards, even you and the rest of my protective force would’ve been hard-pressed to save my life.” She nodded toward the man whose smirk had eased into a wary sort of appreciation. “Tallis managed. And he reinforced your fears about my rash intention to wear another Mask. I don’t want to hide again. Pashkah will always come for me.” Feeling more put-together after the cold sponge bath, she straightened her spine. “I can’t lead anyone if I’m running from him.”

“You sound different, Kavya,” Chandrani said softly. “What is it?”

“He’s been a twenty-year boogeyman with the power to kill me. Many people might want to kill me, including those I never suspected.” She quirked a smile toward Tallis. “So why make decisions based on fear? I need to take the offensive.”

“Are you giving up on our goals of peace? Kavya, you can’t.”

“No, but I won’t be caught out like that again. I must protect myself before I consider bringing others with me. They . . .” She swallowed so hard that tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. “They trusted me, and that I knew what I was doing. I didn’t know. Pashkah could’ve been anyone—one of the human cartels, or gangsters from the North or South who benefit from our continued feud. The longer we fight, the better the trade in Masks and other so-called remedies for our gift.” She met Tallis’s eyes with what felt like a dare. Why did she care what he thought of her plans? Or her deep regret? If anything, she should be hiding her plans from him. “I’m not stopping what must be done on behalf of the Indranan.”

A twist of emotion shaped his mouth, which was a restrained reaction coming from him. Such a finely shaped pair of masculine lips. She’d felt that soft, damp skin against hers and wanted more. Rational thought didn’t change what her body craved. And she’d be lying if she thought it was merely physical. Held in Tallis’s embrace, her worries had melted like ice in the spring.

“Don’t look at me, goddess. I’m not one of your true believers. I have plans of my own. If they conflict with yours, then we should move on.”

“I tried that after escaping the valley. You came back.”

His smirk flashed. She was coming to like its appearances. That meant she’d caught him by surprise.

Yet a task harder than dealing with Tallis still remained.

She turned to Chandrani and took hold of the woman’s upper arms. “I have a favor to ask, my dear friend.”

“Again, you sound different. That old Masquerade didn’t do something to you, did he?”

“No,” Kavya said firmly. “Come see.”

She invited Chandrani into her mind. They shared old memories. Good memories. The memories both trusted as genuine. Even painful recollections held truth—perhaps more than those of laughter. Any Mask could falsify happy impressions: sunshine, a child’s smile, the hand of a friend entwined with one’s own. But what Masquerade was skilled enough to create terrors and heartaches that felt undeniably real? Those were particular to the soul’s darkest places.

So she gave Chandrani their first night together in Delhi, and she offered the tears they’d shared after Kavya had killed Chandrani’s sister, Leela. It had been the only way to keep Leela from taking what didn’t belong to her. Chandrani’s gift. Chandrani’s life.

“I need you to go,” Kavya said, voice rough. “Go home to your pod. Marry Nirijhar. He’s been as faithful to you as you’ve been to me. Time to honor your promise.”

Chandrani shook her head. “He would understand. He knows I need to protect you.”

“No.” Kavya firmed her voice. She’d rarely used her gift against Chandrani—only with her, to exchange information and comfort. But she did so now, adding mental persuasion to her words. “You need to stay here. We’re from the North. Our people may listen.” She concentrated harder. “Marry Nirijhar and indulge in the reward of his comfort. Talk among those who’ll listen. Tell them about Pashkah and how I’m not giving up. Those who will listen will also be those who talk. They’ll pass on what they’ve heard. Peace needs to come from the people or it will never stick. Our hopes cannot hinge on what might appear to be the dogma of a single woman.”