Page 133 of Her Soul for a Crown
“It would be memorable,” Kama said. Sohon stuck out his tongue. But before Anula could yell at them again, point out that the soldiers with flaming torches were bending now to strike the pyre, that they were minutes away from death, Kama frowned falsely, a twinkle in her eye. “Who can think of love when they are consumed with death? Only a man burning for another, facing the darkness with the light of his own passionate flame. There is no line between beauty and pain.” She smiled, sharp and bright. “I shall prove it to all.”
Kama leaned close to the human on her left and cooed. “Pray to the Yakkas of Love.”
The man, tearstained and shaking, scowled. “What? They can’t help me now.”
“Do it, and if they do not come to your rescue, I will kiss you as the flames engulf us. We shall end in our own ecstasy.”
The wrinkle between his brows smoothed, his eyes lost in Kama’s, lost in the hope she gave and in the idea of feelinganything but the fire. “Great Yakkas of Love, hear my prayer, grant me strength against the Polonnaruwans to live. I offer my seed and love.”
The soldiers tapped their torches to the ground, and flame roared up. Courtiers screamed, an echo of Amma ringing in Anula’s ears, calling to that never-ending ache in her chest.
“What are you waiting for?” Anula shouted.
A spark caught on Kama’s sari, devouring the beaded trim and eliciting her laughter. “Your prayer has been heard. I accept. Now free me!”
She blew the man a kiss, the air between them sparkling like the stars, until it landed on his lips. His eyes widened, darkened, deepened. And as the heat crept close, the man’s muscles bulged like a usurper’s and he ripped the rope clean in two. He reached across the thickening smoke and pulled the nearest soldier down into the flame, smothering them with their iron chest plate. The soldier wailed as he boiled inside his own armor.
The man’s strength was unmatched, unchecked, and unbelievable. Anula blinked as the smoke and fear cleared, watching as Kama’s devotee jumped from the pyre, grabbing soldier after soldier, smothering flame, leaving a path clear for the people to escape. And one by one, they did, whispering thanks.
Soldiers advanced to restrain him, yet as each hand clutched, the man grew. Another muscle, another inch taller, until he lorded over the soldiers, barreling through them like a child in a rice paddy field. He tore blades from their grips and turned them on their owners, drowning the remaining flame in blood.
Faith starts where strength ends, Anula. No one is above that law of the world. Not even you.
Anula hadn’t known or dared to believe, but this…faithwas more than she ever thought or imagined. She grasped that truth and the power behind it, and dove off the pyre, the Yakkas in tow.Kama kissed the man’s cheek, and as they fled toward the Pleasure Gardens, he protected their backs, felling every soldier, strong enough to withstand the Polonnaruwans, just as he bargained.
“A world burning with love is good,” Kama announced proudly.
Anula couldn’t argue. She fisted her sari, picking it up to race the night. One hour was perhaps all they had now, all Reeri had, and from their placement in the inner city, it would take that long just to get to the Kattadiya pit. The image of him inside seized her chest. Not because of the tether, but because of the place he found in her heart.
But before they could reach the edge of the gardens, another cry rang out, followed by another, and another. This time not of soldiers, but women, children, husbands. The sound of their suffering became one, and Amma’s cry echoed in their voice. Anula skidded to a halt and glanced back to see people still being caught, bound, killed. Their army was either dead or spread too thin across the courtyard, no one coming to their aid. Just as no one had come to Amma’s, and no one to hers.
“Raejina Consort?” Bithul whispered. “We must move.”
Digging nails into her palms, she bared her teeth up at the throne room’s terrace, at another usurper standing watch as the people of Anuradhapura died.
“Mayhap I should do it again,” Kama trilled in her ear. “Set a man on fire for love, take out those guards around him. You could claim your throne, without Reeri. Do you not long for it?”
“You cannot!” Calu hissed. “Look at the moon. Wessamony will descend soon.”
Anula’s nails broke flesh. Calu was right, Reeri needed her,now. But,cursed blessings, so did her people.
Every word, every promise, every direction Auntie Nirma had ever given scraped along Anula’s arms. A mere four weeks ago, she would’ve taken the chance. She would have bitten back anyfear, any doubt, would have gripped her necklace and charged. She would have placed the crown on her own head and sat on her new throne. But now…
The terror of her people pitched high, and Anula turned her back on the terrace. A spark flew from the courtyard to Anula, caught on the embers already glowing for Reeri, and flamed. “I won’t leave them.”
“O mighty Heavens,” Calu spat. “We cannot save them and Reeri before Wessamony descends to kill us all.”
“Yes, we can,” she asserted. “If we think quickly.”
Calu made a face at her, and an idea struck.
She grabbed his arm. “It’s you. You have to use your power and unwind the soldiers’ minds.”
Calu shook her off. “Absolutely not. I will not break the taboo.”
“If you do, we’ll have a clear path to get everyone to safety and rescue Reeri before it’s too late. I can’t leave them here to die by a usurper’s hand. Help me save them.”
“No,” he hissed. “Wessamony will punish me.”
