Daughters of the Dawn, page 27
“Raya?” I echo. A shudder passes through me. “That’s not my name.”
“Correct. But when you gazed into the Snake River, you saw Raya’s eyes. You saw her memories. Do you know why? Because I wanted you to see them.”
He stops to fix me with an intense gaze, darkening as his story continues. “The other Masters, as you’ve seen, have always cast a shadow over me. I am not like them. In many ways. Amran gave me two First Descendants—twins—but there was always one who was stronger. One who possessed untold power. There have been no twins born in my line since, not for a thousand years . . . until eighteen years ago. Even from my place in the Pit, I felt my connection to you. You are special, like Raya was.”
I shake my head. “I don’t understand. So what if I’m powerful?”
“Back on the boat,” he says, “I saw the way you maimed the Black Viper. You could have stopped, but you didn’t. Raya was like that. She was not afraid of her emotions nor her power. She let her anger fuel her.”
I recall how I felt when I pressed my hand against Veer’s snake mark. Like I was starving, and this power was feeding me.
The Snake Master bends his hooded head to the thread binding us together. “You can see the thread connecting us. That is how I knew, even after what happened to Raya, she was never truly gone, that she would one day return . . . for a piece of her was reborn into you.”
My breath catches in my throat as his mouth sets in a grim line. The cord between us offers a phantom memory, a moment of immeasurable pain: the Snake Master watching helplessly as his brother Manav, the Soul Master, was Unmade and his fragments scattered across the earth. One piece lodging into Raya, surfacing only as she sacrificed herself to the Snake Pit. Her heart turning to stone . . .
The Bloodstone, I realize with a gasp, as her screams pierce my ears.
I’ve heard them before. My first night at the Winter Palace, when Veer woke me from my nightmare. But I didn’t realize I’d been hearing her.
The final memory offers me a shimmering image of the Creator, speaking the Snake Master’s true name. My ancestor. The Great Deceiver.
Once simply known as Sahil.
The Snake Master cants his head sideways. “Don’t you feel something different inside you, Ria? Ever since I left the Pit, my current of magic has run stronger, like it was when Raya was alive. It seems you now hold the core of this power. Let me help you, and we can grow our magic as one.
“Together, dear Ria, you and I can accomplish great things. A reshaping of the world anew. Together, you and I can bring about the Eternal Night.”
“The Eternal Night,” I say, head pounding, Raya’s screams still echoing in my ears. “What is that?”
He does not answer me with words. Instead, the mindscape disappears and we’re standing in a world of red. The Blood Moon, full and inescapable, hovers above a dry desert, a barren, destroyed world. I try to swallow my gasp of terror, but don’t know if I succeed. My fingers itch to shield my eyes from the utter wrongness of the world in front of me.
With a snap of his fingers, that world melts away and we’re back in darkness.
“The world as it was first born,” I realize through numbed lips. “The poisoned world.”
“I was born as the world’s first snake before I became a Master,” he tells me, “Amran’s first and truest companion. And yet I never knew until the Memory Master unearthed the truth for me. Like how your parents kept the truth of your birth from you.”
Thoughts rush through my skull. I don’t know how to grasp any of this. His voice, sweet and syrupy. The return of this Eternal Night. Is that why the Blood Moon is coming?
There’s so much I don’t understand, but I don’t get the chance to ask. A blizzard-like wind whips my hair across my face, and when I swipe it aside, the Snake Master is gone. The scene before me melts away, and I’m back to staring at the Snake River. In my reflection, my eyes have returned to their normal dark color. Not Raya’s. But the moment I think of it, I sense that cobra slithering within me. I can’t deny it—I know what this cobra is that I’ve been feeling.
It’s a piece of Raya. The daughter of the Snake Master, reborn in me.
I start at the sound of voices. I turn to find the Serpent’s Tongue staring at something—the Bloodstone, glowing in Amara’s palm like burning starlight.
“No!” I cry, rushing toward her, but Amara—the Snake Master—only flings me back with a wave of her hand. I land face-first in the snow, Shima weakly curling around my fallen arm for comfort.
My head spinning in a nauseous whirl, my body aching like I’ve been beaten, I can only watch in horror as Amara twitches her hands toward those around her. One by one, the members of the Serpent’s Tongue peel off their hoods, their grins slashes of red in the consuming darkness.
“Offer the talismans.”
The followers obey. Each of them places one talisman on the ground until they form a circle. The compass for the Fire Master, what looks like an ancient bird’s feather for the Sky Master, the scepter for the Snake Master, the sword for the Tide Master, and the map for the Earth Master. Finally, Amara takes off her cuffs and drops them onto the snow. The circle completed, she plants the stone on the slushy dirt in the center.
“Rise,” the Snake Master tells her. And she does.
The talismans begin to glow at Amara’s feet, and I watch as rivulets of gold rush out of them and latch onto the Bloodstone. Amara sighs, like a cloud exhaling the first rain of summer. The golden blood cascades over the Bloodstone until it looks bright as the sun.
The stone begins to shake and shimmer, rising into the air. The fiery blood within it—the lifeblood of Amran—turns a burnt-orange hue. And when she moves to clutch it in the air, thrust it into her grasp, I can feel the warmth exuding from it. The Creator’s blood, like the heat of a thousand fires.
“Once I make my wish,” Amara says, grinning, “all I will need is my husband’s ashes to bring him back to life. And then my destruction of Kaama can begin.”
Her final words are wispy as smoke, acrid as fire.
“Make me the Soul Master.”
Within seconds, the ground shakes. I watch Amara rise into the air, clouds gathering overhead. She glows like that burning starlight of the Bloodstone, but for a different reason. She screams as her veins turn from deep blue to red to black.
Not a scream of triumph. One of complete anguish.
And I realize the truth. She isn’t becoming the Soul Master at all.
Instead . . . a different Master is rising.
Amara shrieks again, dropping the Bloodstone to the ground. A fever fills her eyes as a snake slithers out of her mouth and onto the snowy grounds. It grows and lengthens until it reshapes itself into the man in my mindscape. Into my ancestor, the Great Deceiver.
The Snake Master sneers, retrieving the Bloodstone from the ground and rising into the air. “Thank you for being an obedient host, Amara. It seems your wish failed while I have succeeded. These six talismans have finally given me the strength to stand alone. And to possess all the talismans is to possess the power of our Creator . . . of Amran.”
Within the next instant, Amara screeches with dismay, her face bulging with veins that make her look less human, more monster. Somehow, without the Snake Master within her anymore, she’s . . . withering. Like she’s been bled dry.
With a thrust of her hand, she flings a knife out from the folds of her cloak and presses it against Veer’s neck. “You told me this would work,” she rattles out, eyes bloodshot. Her formerly devoted acolytes step back, frightened, as they watch Amara’s wrath unfold. As her fingers shake and her grip tightens, digging steel into flesh.
“I promised no such thing,” Veer manages in a garbled breath, a slick smile rising on one side of his face. “Long live the Snake Master.”
The others bow in reverence, their heads touching the snow as they turn from Amara to the Great Deceiver. “Long live the Snake Master!”
At those words, a serpentine twist writhes in my belly, and the pounding in my head reaches a crescendo. I gaze down at the Snake River and away from the chanting in front of me, watching my face morph between Ria and Raya.
Veer obeys the Snake Master. . . .
Veer tried to hurt Aditi. . . .
Veer made the capital believe he was a palace physician, hurting them instead of healing. . . .
In the river, I see my eyes flash green. They’re Raya’s eyes.
They’re mine.
I lift myself up and hiss with a voice as alluring as a snake’s rattle.
“Stop,” I tell Amara, snake magic resonating through my bones. Her grip slackens on the knife.
“Don’t you see I’ve been betrayed?” she spits at me, fighting against my magic, her eyes still trained on Veer. “This isn’t your fight, girl. Stay out of it while I get my revenge.”
I don’t know what powers overcome me, but I speed in a flash toward Amara, one hand forcing the knife out of her grip. She stumbles back, eyes widening on mine.
“G-green,” she whispers, staring at me as if I were a feral animal, her index finger trembling as she points at my newly flashing eyes.
“How fortuitous,” says the Snake Master, watching us from above like a god from the heavens. I suppose he is. Biding his time in the Snake Pit; using Amara’s body to retrieve the talismans. So why do I get the feeling that his business here is unfinished?
“What do you want?” I ask the Snake Master, my eyes locked on Veer’s. I bring the tip of Amara’s knife to his throat, watching it draw blood, but Veer only grins.
“Isn’t it obvious, Ria? I’ve snuck into your dreams . . . I’ve seen your life . . . the pity others take on you when they see your uncontrolled powers—no, the fear . . .”
“Stop,” I demand, my hand shaking. “Stop, or I’ll kill him.”
“Kill me?” Veer sneers. “You don’t have the strength,” he spits out between gritted teeth. “No one has the strength to match my Master’s.”
My blood boils. “He’s not your Master!” I force my hand to stop shaking, pressing deeper into the Black Viper’s skin, then repeat my statement to the Snake Master. “I swear I’ll do it.”
“You think I care for the Black Viper?” the Snake Master tuts. “He’s nothing more than a tool.”
Veer’s eyes finally widen. “M-Master, I’ve been loyal to you. I brought you what you sought, even when you possessed a new form—”
“My form shall not matter any longer. And as for you, I have no use.”
That cobra rises up inside of me, its fangs snapping with desire. There’s no pain, only pleasure.
And thirst.
“P-please,” Veer begs with spittle on his lips, his bravado utterly vanished. I hate the way he begs. Hate the things he’s done, the lies he’s spewed. Hate the lies I believed.
I no longer want to simply control my unruly magic. I want to use it. Embrace it.
“That’s it,” the Snake Master tells me. “Let go of that anger. Let go, Ria.”
I drop the knife but keep my arm raised. Veer expels a sigh of relief.
But the cobra within me has me on strings. Shima responds to my emotion, my unspoken demand, and she slithers forward. Hissing fills my ears as snakes emerge from the riverbed in droves.
The world around me goes silent, save the furious beat of my heart. I taste blood on my tongue, feel Shima’s unstoppable hunger—and watch as Veer’s expression widens into shock as she lunges with the other snakes. He tries to escape but can only scream as the snakes wrap around his ankles, his legs, and Shima sinks her fangs into Veer’s throat. His legs give out as he collapses into the snow. The snow beneath him reddens, and his once-bright eyes turn dull, lifeless.
I drop my arm. Cold, cold air shivers around me, and a piercing pain stabs my forehead. I fall to my knees and gasp.
What have I done?
“I wasn’t sure you’d go through with it.” The Snake Master chuckles. He turns, about to disappear in a black plume of smoke before he halts, gazing at me.
“My offer remains, Ria. I will be seeing you soon.”
I blink, and he is gone, leaving nothing but a faint swirl of smoke behind.
There’s no time to process where the Snake Master went. I can barely process what my hands did—what I did. I stare at my palms, the blood speckling my fingers. I turn them into fists. I killed Veer. I brought him to justice.
I hurl in the snow.
Everything after that happens so quickly, I can barely keep track. The Snake Master’s followers disappear into clouds of smoke, leaving Amara where she stands. Amara, staring at Veer’s still form, falls to her knees next to me, her face consumed by veins of black as she shudders uncontrollably.
She’s weak. Barely alive. And now . . .
“My son,” she mutters, almost to herself, before bringing her dark eyes up to mine. “I need my son.” Her body shivers, and she looks so small and delicate in this moment, like she could be carried away wherever the wind takes her. She shuts her eyes as her skin glows with iridescent light, as if being consumed from the inside out.
I can barely wrap my head around what’s happening. She reaches out to me, her eyes pleading as she croaks, “Saeed.”
I shudder, jerking away as Amara’s body slumps toward the ground and her skin begins to pull away, turning to fragments of dust rising into the air. When her eyes meet mine, they hold none of the bloodlust or anger of moments ago, just pain, and I see myself within her. When I would sleep alone on the streets, so hungry I could barely utter a word, afraid this night would be my last. Everything changed for me; hope blossomed into my life, and I accepted a path I didn’t think I’d get the chance to have. But Amara doesn’t have a choice. She’s dying, right before my eyes, and—
Saeed. I need to find him. I need to—
Crack.
I peel myself up from the ground, which I realize, with a start, is still tremoring. Horrified, I whirl to find the tents surrounding the Winter Palace, not far from where I am now, are alight and aflame, sending billowing smoke and the acrid smell of fire to the skies.
I rush back to Shima and check that she’s all right before stumbling through the haze of smoke toward the Winter Palace. I can’t bear to look behind me, as Amara’s body fragments further. I have to find Saeed.
When I’m close to the palace, screams rise. Glass shatters. Mud squelches beneath my feet as I finally make it inside, trembling as I try to push my overtaxed body to move—and find pandemonium. People flee as all the candles are extinguished as though by a sudden wind. In the ballroom, guests are scrambling. Snowbirds have flown inside through broken glass windows, and they swoop down, slashing at the guests’ heads like they’re vermin. One flies straight for King Rohit, and I quickly push him aside. The bird slams right into the throne, then falls into the seat, motionless.
“What’s happening?!” the raja cries out. The bird opens its eyes. They’re red. I hadn’t noticed before, but bite marks cover its neck.
“No.” I swallow a gasp. The birds—we found them in the White Mountains. Dead. Or presumably so. What if they weren’t dead after all? The birds’ eyes eerily remind me of another’s. The Snake Master’s.
And the bite marks—what if they were poisoned with his venom?
“What has he done?” I whisper to myself, before remembering I have done no better. I gaze down at my hands, seeing them swim out of focus. I swear, for a moment, that they are painted with blood.
More cries from outside startle me from my haze. Where is Aditi, Saeed? I assure the raja is okay before sprinting out of the party, headed straight for the exit.
At the threshold of the palace, I spot Saeed clutching his arm. The fabric of his kurta has been slashed, exposing his brown skin reddening with a line of blood.
“Saeed!”
His eyes find mine and he rushes over, grabbing hold of me before I can even feel the cold Amratstanian air. “Stay inside, Ria. I don’t want the snowbirds attacking you, too.”
Is that how he got that wound? “But your—” The words stick in my throat. But Saeed has to know.
“Your mother,” I say finally. “She’s here, by the Snake River. She—” My voice is so shaky, tears are filling my eyes, and I know I’m rambling so much that Saeed has to cup my cheeks to calm me.
“She what?” Saeed says, voice urgent.
“She used—the talismans, the Bloodstone. She thought she could become the Soul Master, but she didn’t, and now the Sn—” I stop myself short.
“What is it, Ria?” Saeed gazes at me in confusion and growing alarm, unable to understand my rambling.
“Fire!” someone cries. I turn, yanking Saeed with me as we rush into the cold. There’s no time to explain to him what just happened. Smoke chokes my lungs as people throw buckets of water onto the flames.
Flames the Snake Master and his followers must have created as a distraction from what happened at the Snake River.
“Get inside, everyone!” I see Irfan ahead of us, calling out to the hordes of people crowding at the entrance. “Stay where it’s safe!” He must’ve come back to the palace after I was transported.
But there’s no time to stop. I ignore Irfan and rush through the grounds, Saeed hot on my heels. The cool air is mixed with the scent of bitter ash, drifting all around me like dark snowflakes.
“Where are we going?” he huffs behind me. Around us, the fire continues to spread. While the snow has done a good job of keeping the fire at bay, the tents are easily flammable.
I don’t stop until we’re at the Snake River.
“Mother!” Saeed cries, falling to his knees beside her and reaching for her. But just before he can, Amara grabs on to his wrist.
“My son,” she whispers, raising a hand to caress his cheek but lacking the strength.
Saeed chokes back a sob. “Mother—what happened—”
Amara shakes her head. Closes her eyes. “It was him,” she shudders out. She points a crooked finger to the side, where the Snake Master had disappeared. Saeed glances at the river, where Veer’s body lies bent on the ground, his wound still bleeding him dry.
