Page 32 of The Burning Mountain
Veer straightened, the prince’s frail body in his arms. The chains around his ankles rattled. Veer used his superior strength to rip off the confining manacles.
The snakes came together again, draping over the path that led to freedom, hissing in anger.
They now perceived the boy to be the intruder and wouldn’t suffer him to pass.
Veer regarded Shota, who seemed to understand Veer’s silent instruction. He gave a short nod as he readied himself. “On the count of three, then,” called Veer. “One, two…three.”
The snakes hissed helplessly as Veer threw the boy and Shota caught him in his arms.
Shota lowered the boy gently to the floor. Aditya stared up at him, wide-eyed and mute. He didn’t resist when Shota pulled out a knife and cut the thin chain around his neck. The one that carried the sheared key piece as a pendant.
Veer grinned in triumph when Shota held up the key piece, before tucking it into the safety of his robes.
Knowing his next task,Shota hesitated, the knife wavering in his grip. He still had his hand on the boy’s shoulder, who turned up his face to him. Wide eyes in a pallid visage focused on Shota with trust and gratitude. He couldn’t bring himself to do what they had planned.
“Do it, Shota. Kill the boy,” snapped Veer, his voice cracking like a whip across his thoughts. “We got what we wanted. We don’t owe the previous royal family of Thianvelli a thing.”
Shota still hung back, his knife at the boy’s throat, his other hand gripping his shoulder to hold him in place. As the spymaster of Rajgarh, he had always felt it was his duty to think through all possible solutions for a problem. Even the questionable, darker ones. But thinking of theoretical scenarioswas vastly different from actually doing something deeply abhorrent.
The boy finally seemed to realize something was amiss and started to struggle, but he was no match for the much stronger adult who held him. The sounds he made were low and didn’t carry far. Starvation and whatever torture he endured made him very weak, so it was easy to subdue him.
“Aditya will die anyway. He has absorbed the snake venom from being tied to thenagamanifor so long. His chances of making it out of this are slim. And the wizard who captured him will do worse next time. We’ve talked about this. Now, come on!”
Shota squared his shoulders, faced with this moral dilemma. But he couldn’t disobey direct orders.
His gaze hard, he drew his knife across the boy’s throat. A spray of blood stained the stone opposite him. No sound came from the boy, even as his eyes closed, and his head lolled lifelessly.
The sudden silence was deafening. The body fell forward from Shota’s slack hands toward the fire-filled trench. The air suddenly filled with smoke, the sickening scent of burning flesh polluting the already stale air.
He had angled the fall in such a manner that the face took the brunt of the fire. Shota stood heaving, taking in great gulps of air, trying to fill his lungs with air unpolluted with the stench of his crimes.
He let go of the bloody knife as if it burned him and it fell to the floor with a clatter, right where the body of the boy lay at his feet.
The jute bag lay open behind him, the rat cage was empty, its inhabitants now loose and nowhere to be found.
Shota took a couple moments to get himself under control, while Veer watched him from the cage with concerned eyes. “Thank you, Shota. I owe you one for this help,” he said withquiet sincerity. It still didn’t melt the ice block ofwrongnessthat seemed to have lodged in his stomach, but Shota found himself giving him a curt nod back, before heaving the heavy jute bag over his shoulder and making his way up the stairs, the lantern bobbing in his hand.
Leaving behind the partially burned carcass, positioned halfway across the burning trench. When he reached the top, he peered back, seeing the dying flames, hearing the soft scuffle of Veer’s footsteps and the smallest of squeaks that came from the freed rats.
15
THE THRONE OF TRUTH
Chandra unfolded the shawl once more to verify something. Billadev stood impatiently by her side. The treasury was a collection of rooms with a central circular one, with several arched exits leading off into adjacent rooms, filled with all manner of wealth. Coins minted in gold and silver lay in piles. Precious bejeweled objects glinted innocently in the meager light of the two lamps they had dared to kindle.
Chandra had chanced a peek into one of these chambers earlier and had pulled Billadev back just as he was about to step into one. Right in the nick of time, too, as a scraping sound shifted her focus to the ceiling, where a series of massive, curved axes were strung, their purpose to behead anyone who stepped in, obvious.
The entire place appeared to be booby-trapped, just like Namata Devi had warned them.
It also explained the relative lack of security for the amount of treasure stored here. Earlier, Billadev was able to take out the two guards at the entrance with a sleeping powder; they were now resting out of sight at an alcove. They had probably an hour before the next shift of guards appeared.
The central hall seemed like the safest place so far. Matangi had called it the throne room, because it housed thepanch-pashuthrone in a central depression.
Special multicolor tiles placed in geometric patterns adorned the floor in this central pit. Pillars rose from the perimeter of the sunken floor, holding up a domed ceiling embedded with a skylight, through which they spotted the gibbous moon as it made its slow trek across the night sky.
And like Matangi had said, there were twelve pillars, each of them carrying a pair of sculptures of the various animals that decorated thepanch-pashuthrone.
Chandra sat back on her haunches, frowning in concentration. She had been comparing the pattern of the square tiles to the shawl. When Namata Devi chose a checkered cloth for embroidery, she had been confused. Typically, a clear cloth made the thread work stand out. But now Chandra realized the deeper purpose behind the choice.
