“I do nothing of the kind.”

“Keep lying about inconsequential things and we won’t be allies much longer, let alone lovers.”

“I should only lie about the consequential things?”

He offered a rueful shake of his head. “I can spot the big lies. The little lies, though—they chip cracks in mortar and wear away stones. As powerful as the elements. So . . . your call.”

“You act like this is some sort of test,” she said.

“Why shouldn’t it be? If I’m going to make a plan with anyone . . .” He shrugged. “Then it’s all about trust.”

—

Kavya looked down at her interwoven fingers. “How did you know?” she asked softly.

“Just my eyes and a really strong desire to know who the hell you are.” He touched beneath her chin and urged her face up, up, until she couldn’t look away. “I had a dream version of you, and a version of you intended for the rest of your followers, and then . . . here you are. Forgive my curiosity.”

“They’re—” Kavya had to stop, swallow, start again. “They’re the mountains. My knuckles. They’re the mountains and valleys of the Northern faction, where I was raised. I’ve never liked their chaos. The randomness. Too many hiding places and secrets and places where the sun came over the ridge at different times, different intensities. Nothing could be counted on.”

“Your homeland.”

She nodded. “My mother showed me how to line up my fingers and the knobs of my knuckles just so.”

“Like that?” Tallis knelt and traced the even bumps. “Perfectly aligned?”

“Yes.”

“Order out of chaos?”

She unclasped her fingers and shook feeling back into her numb hands. “But not anymore.”

“Because I caught on? That’s not fair. I’ve been surrounded by shadows and mirrors for longer than I care to remember. I find one solid, reliable truth and a woman willing to open up and explain what it means—and what? Should I apologize? I won’t, Kavya.”

Standing, she grabbed his pack and adjusted her stance. Not exactly order out of chaos, but with the strong foundation of the mountains. “We’ll reach the nearest village in a half hour or so. Then you’ll need to steal a moped, not a car. You’ll learn why when we get into Jaipur. We should reach the Old City before dark. Perfect place to hide. Plenty of time to plan.”

Kavya kept her steps evenly paced although she was crumbling on the inside. Everything she’d known was shattered or frozen or covered in blood. Pashkah would find her, eventually, no matter where she bedded down for the night. The tension in her spine promised as much. Tallis had her back. He was a living, unpredictable cyclone—the same entity, but always changing speed, direction, force.

He caught up and walked beside her in silence, as if they hadn’t shared the most intimate acts of her life. Her feet ached and started to bleed, but she said nothing. The physiology of the Dragon Kings meant she would heal quickly once they took shelter for the night, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less in the moment. The agony built until she was burned by hot coals with every step.

“I need to stop,” she said abruptly.

He eyed her as if she were a tree that deigned to speak. “Are we far off?”

“No.”

“Then we keep walking.”

“I’m stopping.” She sat as abruptly as she’d spoken. Immediately she pulled one foot cross-legged into her lap. Blood covered her fingers.

“What in the Dragon?” Tallis squatted and balanced on the balls of his feet. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“You’re the one in tune with the physical world. Or maybe that ebbs for a while after you come.”

“So mouthy now that you know what you’re talking about.” He stared back along their trail. The tight defensiveness in his expression fell away. “Fuck.”

Kavya followed his line of sight. Smears of blood marked their progress. “Do you have any water left in the bottles?”

“Yeah. Give me one foot.”

“Why?” She pulled her stinging foot more closely against her body. “Just give me the water.”

“No.” He proved his will by pulling her leg across his lap. His strength was always such a glorious surprise. In this case, however, it was also infuriating when he tended her feet as if she were a child with a scraped knee.

“Fine,” she said tartly. “Start working on that plan.”

“You still want to unify your people.”

“Of course. Pashkah killed my allies. Now I look like a victim, a traitor, or a cohort. I need to restore that faith and work to fix the chasm between the factions.”

“Say that again,” he said, his blue-eyed glare made indigo by the shadows cast by the sun at his back.

“To fix the chasm? What of it?”

He drizzled water on her feet until the worst of the grit and blood washed onto the ground. Then he removed one of his seaxes and cut the wool lining from his jacket. Efficiently, he tied the wool in a field dressing that offered both absorption and padding. A layer of sliced leather followed, to give the sole more protection. Head bent, he concentrated on his task. His hands were respectful, if that was possible, but Kavya couldn’t help responding to the sensitive way his skin slipped along hers as he held her calf, her ankle. She wanted him to push farther up her legs and keep touching, to put his mouth on her again—or, more daring, to take what they both wanted. They both wanted Tallis to claim her virginity.

Kavya was tired of his erratic behavior, which seemed to include pampering her. She’d never been one to indulge her own needs. “You’re still being guided by forces I can’t understand,” she said. “I’ve been nothing but frank from the start. Start talking, or we part once we reach Jaipur.”

“We part when I say so.”

“I know these cities. I know their alleys. If I want to disappear, I will. You’ll never see me again.”

He offered a surprising nod. “Fine.”

“Fine that we’ll part or fine, you’ll talk?”

He tied off the second leather dressing, his expression grim. “The vision I’ve dreamed about . . .”

“The one you thought was me?”

“She planned to see the Five Clans unified. That was her phrase: the Chasm isn’t fixed. Every action I’ve taken was in deference to her larger vision. In a way, I was one of your people. A true believer.”

“What changed?”

“Anyone can lose faith. The particulars are just that. Particulars.” He rubbed a hand over his face, then around his grit-smeared neck. He was more than a man; he was an explorer from another century. “The issue is what to do now. If I help you, I’m helping whoever’s been infecting my dreams. I won’t risk that. I’m no longer in her service. Once I figure out who or what she is, I’ll leave you to your mountain to climb, and get my life back.”

“Your life? Circling the world again? Wearing the word heretic around your neck like a weight? That’s a death sentence, like Nakul up in the valley. You might as well ask me to wipe your mind and have done with it.”

“What I do with my life is my choice.”

“Great plan so far, Tallis.” She grabbed the water bottle and took a hefty swig. That didn’t help swallow the fear that had balled in her throat. After wiping her mouth, she eyed him. “Why protest her goal of unification but support mine regarding the Indranan? Or are you just tagging along for the sex?”

Dust had filled the tiny lines at the corners of his eyes, and had cast an unnatural hue across his skin. “No,” he said darkly. “It’s because you’ve never commanded me to kill.”

CHAPTER

TWENTY

An hour after Tallis stole a moped, they arrived in the Old City of Jaipur.

Kavya had passed through Jaipur on occasion, always on her way to another place to regroup. Holding on to Tallis around his waist, she took the time to do what she’d never been able to. She soaked up the flavor of the famed Pink City. Clean, square-cut sandstone was the architectural theme, but that austerity was made romantic by pink paint on every possible surface. She’d never seen such a seamless blend of modern and ancient India. Neither era suffered. The union was unusual and beautiful, in ways that brought unexpected tears to her eyes. She was just tired. On so many levels. Being pressed against Tallis’s broad back for the duration of their trip hadn’t been relaxing. She’d spent that time poised between wanting to melt into his comfort and holding herself at a distance after the chilly end to their hours in the cornfield.