Page 118 of Her Soul for a Crown
“Consider it borrowing, if it makes you feel better.”
The guruthuma pursed her lips. “And what relic is it that you seek?”
“The Bone Blade.”
Premala sucked in a breath, but the guruthuma smiled. “Ah, the Lord of the Second Heavens has found another willing seeker.”
A chill passed over Anula. “Not exactly.”
“The Yakkas, then.” Guruthuma Hashini clasped her hands behind her back. “This is your bargain with them. A throne for a blade.”
Anula narrowed her eyes.
“You were correct that many have come seeking the relics. Many more for the Bone Blade. The Divinities warned us of it. Despite Fate’s demise, the Lord of the Second Heavens has never given up his plot.”
“What?” Premala asked.
“Fate killed Destiny with their relic,” Anula said. “TheDivinities banished them and then cast the relics here. Did your precious Kattadiya not tell you?”
Premala glanced at Hashini, who merely replied, “There are things only guruthumas are told. But you’re missing the full truth. Wessamony was the one who convinced Fate to act. He claimed they could rule together, only the pair of them. I have no doubt that Wessamony would have eventually turned against Fate, had their plan not gone awry. His tenacity in finding the relic after all these years proves it. It is why the Divinities tasked us with hiding it, to keep it safe, not only from the selfishness of humanity but from the Second Heavens. The Kattadiya do not act for themselves, only for the protection of others.”
Premala blinked. Anula held her breath. This was it, she’d see the manipulation now, and when she did, they’d act together. Grab the relic and run.
“You were going to give it to the Lord of the Second Heavens?” Premala asked, blind as ever.
Anula sighed. “No. The Yakkas have come to end Wessamony, to save the Heavens and the Earth from his plans.”
The guruthuma scoffed. “Lies.”
“If you believe your own story, then the Yakkas are innocent. They have nothing to do with it. They aren’t a threat.”
“Of course they are!” she snapped. “They drenched this ground with blood and will do so again when their Lord reigns supreme.”
Anula raised a brow. “Isn’t it the Kattadiya who drench the earth in blood now? Denouncements and tovils—”
“Ensure our protection,” the guruthuma shouted. “They are the work of our Divine task: to rid the Earth of the threat of the Second Heavens.”
“Rid? But then there will only be one.”
“Exactly,” Guruthuma Hashini hissed.
Anula blanched and looked to Premala, but the girl had gone rigid. A soldier in stance before her commander. Faithful and true. Dread drew a finger down Anula’s spine. “It was never about saving people from curses and death, was it? The Kattadiya have always been working toward one goal, one tovil. The one that would end the Yakkas, once and for all.”
Guruthuma Hashini stepped closer, placed a heavy hand on Premala’s shoulder. “The Lord of the Second Heavens created the Yakkas for a purpose, as the Divinities created us for a purpose. One unbalanced the cosmos; the other will right it.”
Premala lifted her gaze. Anula willed her to see, to open her eyes. These people were not going to right the cosmos; they were the ones seeking imbalance. They were the ones hurting people. But Premala had eyes only for her guruthuma. For her perceived salvation. She wanted worth, no matter the blindness.
“It is time, acolyte. Enact the blood oath.” Guruthuma Hashini grabbed Premala’s hand and placed it against the wall where Guruthuma Thilini waited silently. When their hands touched, a small light sparked, and dark red liquid streaked down Premala’s fingers.
Anula shifted backward. “No.”
It couldn’t happen now, not when they were so close. Not when the tovil would tear Reeri apart. She couldn’t bring them back from that, couldn’t make another bargain for him to return, couldn’t even warn him.
Premala cleared her throat. Anula retreated farther, finding the statue at her back.
“Say it,” Guruthuma Hashini hissed.
“No,” Anula pled again. “Wait. You don’t have to do this. You don’t need this place. They want to destroy part of the Heavens. You can’t believe—”
