Page 36 of The Burning Mountain
He finished drawing and sat back, the hungry expectation on his face giving way to confusion a moment later. Chandra glanced down at her throbbing hand.
He had drawn the mark of Amarendra on her palm.
How did he—? Her mind rapidly connected the dots, taking in his confused expression.
He didn’t know!
He didn’t draw the mark because he suspected her of being Amaravathi’s royalty.
On anyone else this mark would cause excruciating pain. This evil man was using a mark they had revered for centuries as a torture device.
Belatedly, she remembered to act and let out a bloodcurdling scream. The guards holding her prisoner let go and she fell to the floor. She didn’t have to fake the tears that sprang to her eyes as she cradled her hand into her chest.
Ketuvahana’s face cleared, his eyes lighting with pleasure. Crouching down to her level, he addressed her. “This is only the beginning. If you don’t tell me everything you know, I will makesure you feel every inch of your skin by the morning. Do you understand?”
He got up, leaving her hunched over herself on the ground, and spoke softly to a guard, who then strode up to her, reaching down, as if intent on hauling her up.
Chandra moved fast, the picks from arm bracelet freed and ready in her hand, which she then plunged into the guard’s open neck. The poison acted quickly, leaving him gurgling and clutching his throat. But Chandra was already shifting, confiscating the sword at his waist, engaging the others who had rushed forward.
Through the corner of her eye, she observed Ketuvahana leaving the room. He was even more of a coward than she thought, since she had expected him to join the fight.
Therudrakshabracelet warmed against her wrist, in response to the mark that was drawn on her palm. But she ignored her instinct of giving it free reign.
She would be announcing herself as the princess of Amaravathi if she used her goddess powers.
Something that Ketuvahana hadn’t yet been able to deduce about her. And Chandra wanted it kept secret as long as possible. She was warned often enough, previously by Guruji and recently by Namata Devi herself—she had ties not just to Amaravathi but also to Rajgarh—and her identity and role here could precipitate a diplomatic conflict.
She moved steadily toward the back of the room, toward that high window. The guards were closing in and she knew she needed to make her move. Thrusting the sword into the nearest soldier, she sprinted.
As she ran, she worked her bangle off her wrist and turned a small dial set on it, cursing when nothing happened, hastily throwing it away. She did the same to the bangle on her other hand and it worked this time. A small row of sharp spikes rosefrom the outer edge of her bracelet. She twisted mid-sprint and threw her spiked weapon. It whirled through the air and struck at the guard closest to her, who went down with a grimace.
But the remaining guards pursued and formed a semicircle around her, cutting off her escape.
The divan waited patiently, and Chandra used the bounce of the soft seat to propel herself into the air, catching the ledge of the window and heaving herself up over it.
A smash of her elbow and the wooden casements sprang open, letting in the warm air and early sun into the room.
Just as she prepared to jump across another ledge, set a story below, she heard a woman’s scream from the room she was trying to escape.
Chandra halted, dread pooling in her stomach as she recognized the voice and turned.
Ketuvahana was dragging a woman by her hair into the room.
“Leaving already?” he said, huffing slightly as he positioned Matangi in front of him. “Aren’t you forgetting your accomplice?”
Chandra turned fully around, her eyes wide. Matangi was barely recognizable. One side of her face was puffy, the imprint of a man’s hand on her cheek, and her eye was swollen shut.
Why hadn’t she left when I warned her?Chandra felt their escape slipping away.
“Let her go. I’ll do whatever you say.” Chandra raised her arms in surrender.
“No, Princess. You musn’t—” Matangi barely got the words out as Ketuvahana thrust his dagger into her abdomen.
“No!” Chandra’s scream echoed through the room, drowning Matangi’s weak cry of pain. She stumbled forward and Chandra jumped from the window’s ledge and caught the girl, lowering her gently to the ground.
“No,” begged Chandra, her voice coming out like a sob. “Don’t die on me, Matangi. We’ll get out of here. I promise.”
“Sorry, Princess,” she said, her voice faint and labored. “My death not be in vain. Tell my brother, me be sorry for leaving him…”
