“Leave you.” Chandrani’s words were flat.

“For now.”

That lump had returned. Rarely had Kavya spent a day without Chandrani, not since their first introduction when they’d both eyed the same loaf of bread from an unsuspecting vendor. Kavya had snatched it first, only to be chased down by a much bigger, stronger girl. In the end they’d laughed at the vendor’s sad attempt to shout for police, and they’d shared the bread.

In the years since, they parted only when Chandrani returned to visit her birth village, even higher in the Pir Panjal. She and stout, strong Nirijhar had fallen in love. It was time to let that love run its course.

“I’ll return,” Kavya said. “I promise.”

Chandrani eyed Tallis with dark suspicion. “And if I go?”

Kavya’s smile was sardonic. “Then I’ll have a man at my side, too.”

“I still don’t trust him.”

“Don’t think that I do. But he and I are bound by mysteries neither of us want looming over our lives. Until those mysteries are solved, I doubt he’ll let me be harmed.” She slid her gaze toward Tallis, whose averted face spoke of disinterest, but whose posture leaned toward their conversation. “Isn’t that right, Reaper?”

“Yes.” The quickness of his reply confirmed Kavya’s guess. He had been hanging on to every word of the conversation. She liked knowing that her guesses about his physical cues were becoming more accurate.

“See?” She returned to Chandrani. “You want to do what’s right, not just what’s best for me. So you have new orders, Chandrani of Indranan. Hug me. Promise you’ll marry the man you adore. And bid me a loving farewell.”

CHAPTER

TWELVE

Tallis stood at Kavya’s back as her bodyguard trudged away. The only dejected thing about the woman was a sense of having failed to win an argument. Her back was straight, her strides confident. If he hadn’t been privy to the spoken portion of their conversation, Tallis wouldn’t have guessed she was anything but a determined soldier. Off to do her duty. And apparently off to get married.

“Where does she live?”

Kavya touched the bottom curve of one eye. A tear? Tallis didn’t want to be moved, but if this was real, he wanted to know what it looked like and how it felt. Whatever was blocking her telepathy might not last. He wanted as many details as possible about her true self.

“Far north of the Rohtang Pass, in a city called Leh—nearly the northernmost city in India. Her family believes themselves personally touched by the Dragon because of their proximity to the Chasm. I don’t know of any other Dragon Kings who live nearer.”

“Yet she followed you?”

“No, she fled. As we all do. Mumbai and Delhi are cities where one can blend in and start new lives.” She shrugged—a jerky motion, as if yanked by a careless puppeteer. “There’s nothing else we can do. As a people. Unless I . . .”

She shuddered. When Tallis moved nearer, she held out a warning hand. “No,” she said. “I don’t want you near me.”

“What was that you told her, about how you could count on me to keep you safe?”

“What else would I have told a friend who didn’t want to leave my side? That I think you’re delusional and dangerous? That as soon as you’ve untangled the brambles in your head, you’ll do something stupid like maul me in my sleep?”

“Depends on how you define maul.”

Her expressions were gaining so much candor. Right now her face showed a combination of disgust and embarrassment. “Chandrani had to go, and I’ll leave as well. Heading south. Hopefully Pashkah will assume I’ve gone to Delhi, back to the streets where I grew up. He’ll have learned that much about me now.”

“After just a few minutes together?”

“Do you have siblings, Tallis?”

“Five.” He twitched down to the bones. “Well, four now.”

Kavya’s brows drew together. “Four?”

“Leave it,” he said sharply.

Just when Tallis was convinced she’d keep probing, Kavya only nodded. “Would you know their thoughts and feelings after only a few moments?”

He closed his eyes and remembered green—so much bright, kelly green touched with the mind-blowing purple of heather in bloom. He remembered his brothers and sisters. Then he tried to imagine telepathy between them. He couldn’t do it, but fact overlaid his sudden, choking flush of memory. “Yes, I could. A long time ago.”

“Then know that even in combat, Pashkah learned more about the last twenty years of my life than I’ll ever know about another person.”

“Did you learn the same from him?”

“Yes.” Her face paled. It looked sickly, unnatural compared to her usual golden coloring.

“And you’ll keep that to yourself?”

“As a kindness.” She shuddered and pulled deeper into the under-armor padding Chandrani had left behind. “So . . . anywhere but India.”

Tallis exaggerated his movements as he looked up and down the valley. “How do you expect to get out? By sailing down the Beas?”

She tipped her head, frowning. “How did you get here?”

“By sailing up the Beas.”

Her laugh was like the soft song of birds or the ringing of church bells in celebration. He was transported back to an evensong performance at Bath Abbey. The unfiltered waters of the Roman baths had still flavored his tongue with salt and oil. Children’s voices had raised in song. He hadn’t believed the words intoned by the vicar, but his cadence had calmed Tallis’s soul.

That was Kavya’s laugh.

“There’s an airport ten kilometers south of here, you ridiculous lout. Outside a village called Bhuntar.”

“An airport.” Tallis laughed, too. He let out the sound, as if grinding tension could be released so easily. Maybe it could be.

“Did you think we use magic spells and rafts made of inflated animal hides?” She shared his grin. “Not anymore. Unless you’d rather walk or sail, I suggest you get your mind out of medieval times. We’re not all Tenzing Norgay helping Englishmen climb Everest. Come on.” She nodded to indicate the heart of the city. “We can take a shuttle to the airport and decide where to go to regroup.”

Tallis shook his head and followed the Sun—who’d suddenly decided to find a sense of humor.

She turned to glance at his profile. He could feel the weight of her inquisitive eyes, not just then but every time her gaze sought his face. There was curiosity and confusion and wariness. He wanted other reasons for her to look at him, but Dragon be damned if he could name them.

“You really think we’re banished up here in the peaks, backward people like Sherpa herders and folks bunkered down in Himalayan igloos . . . don’t you?”

“No,” he said. “Just because I trekked up from Punjab and missed what I assume will be a five-star deluxe airport doesn’t mean I’m ignorant of your people. I’ve been here nearly three months.”

“Stalking me?” Although Kavya’s eyebrow was arched with sarcasm, he couldn’t return her jest.

“Yes. I was actually surprised when I found your followers’ camp. I hadn’t expected anything so organized. I’ll admit to expecting little burrows or hideaway shelters in a forest like this.”

Kavya’s mouth tightened until the blood drained away. “I should have. That would’ve been safer.”

“How? It took me months to find you because I don’t follow brainwaves and Indranan witchcraft.”

“I’m not a—”

“In other words, I didn’t have the gift Pashkah does. All he needed to do was open up his mind and fish out the largest collection of Dragon Kings in India, Nepal, wherever.”

Late rays of light shone on her face, adding artificial color while she was still pale. The ground was slippery and steep. He instinctively reached out to steady her with an arm around her waist. She flinched. “I don’t need your help,” she said.