Page 94 of Her Soul for a Crown
“I did not do it on purpose,” Calu snapped back. Reeri’s brow furrowed.
Despite Calu’s irritability and Kama’s attempt to clean the book, Reeri was transfixed on Anula. She traced a finger around the largest jewel on her necklace.
“Is someone set to be poisoned today?” he whispered.
She clasped it. “No, I always wear it. It’s the last thing I have of my family, my amma’s most treasured gift. The jewels are from my thaththa; the poisoncraft is from my uncle.”
Reeri noticed the change in her cadence, the soft lilt. “And what of your auntie?”
“She taught me how to wield it.”
“You must miss her.”
She regarded him, bronze eyes searching. Worry snagged his heart, that she may find him lacking and snub the echo of their souls. “She also taught me about allies.”
Reeri’s mouth dried. Now was his moment to see if she felt it, too. If he could find the right words…but she gazed away at the stack of memory books.
“Are there any books about—” Her voice cut off.
Reeri heard the word anyway. “Eppawala?”
“No,” she said, her guard raised again as quickly as it had slipped. “Never mind.”
His shadow scrambled to stay close, and he tilted his leg to the side, brushing against her sari. Yet the distance was still there. Mayhap if he spoke of the relic—if he explained how she would wield it to exact vengeance and justice upon Wessamony—she may not feel the need to raise her walls with him at all. But that would mean explaining the process of how he had planned to call the Yakkas’ souls forth first, of how he would have used the soul she offered, of how cleaving it would have marred her soul.
He had already determined not to cleave it fully in two, not to allow all the goodness to seep away or leave her a carcass. He could do that, right? He held the reins, as Kama said. He could save the Yakkas and preserve Anula.
But if she did not trust him…she could refuse, or worse, recant.
“Ouch! Cursed blessings.”
The scent of blood floated on the air, dripped from Anula’s finger as she held it aloft.
“Paper cut,” she murmured to four pairs of Yakka eyes.
The urge to grab her hands seized him, the need to wipe the blood clean, mayhap with his lips. O Heavens, had one touch truly undone him? He bit back the desire and held himself in place.
Yet Kama did not. She leaned close, gathered Anula’s hand in hers. “Does it hurt?”
“Only slightly.”
Kama grabbed her chin. “Describe it to me. Does it pulse with pain? Does it throb with pleasure?”
Anula pulled away. “You’re insane, do you know that?”
“I am not.”
“Indeed, you are,” Calu said.
“We are all in agreement,” Sohon murmured from behind a book.
“Passion and insanity are two entirely different things.” Kama twirled a lock of hair, nodding to the book that had cut Anula. Embossed in gold was the titleAkshay’s Desires. “I desire to set the world aflame. Burning with love for one another, lovers and friends, family and neighbors will face the anguish of the cosmos, opening their arms even to death. For love bears all things, faces all things, and wins in the end. My ministrations are good, you will see, for there is no line between beauty and pain. They encompass each other, consuming as they kiss.”
Reeri noted the fervor in her voice, the way she gazed into Anula’s eyes. It was not the usual coo of the temptress, the melody of persuasion, but the earnestness of vulnerability.
Anula inched from her grip. “The only way to prove your theory is to save lives. There are no good intentions that only kill, no beauty in senseless suffering.”
“Then that is what I shall desire,” Kama breathed, as if she too had been caught under Anula’s spell.
