He followed her without a word.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Kyra could hear Prija. At first the kareshta’s voice was a low murmur. But as the violence erupted around them, Prija’s voice became clearer and clearer. It was a hissing, angry tone that pressed at Kyra’s temples, but instead of running away, Kyra ran toward the pain, clutching Leo’s hand the whole time. As long as she maintained contact, she could sort through the voices. The heavy, violent hum of the Fallen. The panicked souls of the Grigori.
And Prija.
“She’s this way,” Kyra said. “They moved her farther away from the temple.”
A whooshing sound came overhead, like the beat of a giant bird’s wings.
“What is that?” Leo said.
The dark music grew stronger. Fell back. Pulsed and beat like… wings.
“Arindam can fly.”
“Angels don’t actually have wings!” Leo said. “That’s human mythology.”
“This one does.” Kyra ran toward the trees. “Don’t let him see us.”
Leo was looking up instead of looking forward.
“Leo!”
“Cover.” He snapped his attention back to her. “Got it. Where is she?”
“This way.”
Keeping to the edge of the forest, they ran past skirmishes of one against six or seven. Some of the young men were fighting, but not very well. Kyra’s heart broke to see their fresh round faces snuffed out over and over again. They were hardly more than babies. Her anger fueled her, and she kept running.
Prija felt her coming. The kareshta began to jab at Kyra’s mind, sending sharp, painful spikes into it the closer they got.
We came for you, Prija.
Nothing but angry scratching at her mind.
Your brothers came for you. I came for you. Leo came for you.
More anger. This time it pierced her temple and Kyra nearly doubled over in pain.
“Damn her!” Leo shouted, still watching the sky. “Doesn’t she know—”
“She doesn’t know anything at this point,” Kyra said. “Nothing makes sense. Everything is darkness.”
She stood up, swallowed the bile in the back of her throat, and kept running toward Prija. There was a building at the edge of the forest, the farthest building from the temple. Two guards stood in front of it, both carrying guns, both bent over, clutching their temples in pain. Without slowing her run, Kyra drew out her knives and spread her arms, jabbing both Grigori in the back of the neck as she ran past.
Thank you, sister.
Kyra’s burst of violence fed something in Prija, and the mental jabs softened.
Leo tried kicking in the door, but not even his massive strength could move it.
“It opens out,” he said. “We need to find another way.”
“Keys?” Kyra bent down and felt through the dissolving bodies of the Grigori she’d stabbed, trying not to gag on the dust and gore. “I can’t find any—”
“Window!” Leo wrapped an arm with the shirt of one of the dead Grigori and punched through a window. It was security glass and took several punches before it began to shatter.
He broke through the window just as Kyra smelled the first hint of smoke. Looking over her shoulder, she saw a dark form sweeping over the compound, fire dropping on the dry bushes and trees.
“Kyra!” Leo was in the building, waving at her. “Come.”
She ran over, and he lifted her carefully through the shattered window. They were in a small kitchen, and the smells of rice and fish filled the room.
“The stove is still on.” She turned it off and looked around. “The guards must have been interrupted at dinner.” She walked past the table—a rice-filled bowl sat in the middle of it—and down a narrow hallway lit by a single bulb. She could feel Prija now.
The kareshta was in a room on the far end of the hall.
Let me in, Kyra thought at her.
No words, just a strangled, angry cry.
Let me in, sister.
Less anger. More pain.
Kyra paused. I am your sister. I want to help you. Let me in.
Nothing. No anger. No pain. The mental jabs stopped.
“Leo, open the door at the end of the hall.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded. The door was padlocked, but Leo broke a metal leg off a chair, slid it behind the lock, and popped if off with one quick snap. The door swung open, and there was only darkness inside.
Prija VI
The moonfaced one was here. She was followed by the sunshine male, but the male was wiser than the others thought. He stayed back. The black fog thinned around Prija, but she didn’t open her eyes.
Prija, I’m here.
The moonfaced girl was clever. She didn’t try to speak to Prija’s body; she spoke to her mind. She spoke in English, but Prija could understand that language even if she didn’t like to speak it. Prija didn’t speak anything.
I have a gift for you.
That was what Arindam’s sons had said before she killed them. Prija snarled.
It’s a gift from Intira.
A trick. Why would they carry a gift from a little girl so many miles from her home? She was so far from home. Prija’s heart cried. She wanted the peace of her forest. The soothing rush of the water over her head. The simple laughter of the village children. Why had they taken those from her?
A weapon…
…killed her own father.
What kind of female can kill one of the Fallen?
Mind crushed from the inside.
This is why they are killed.
This is why they are feared.
“You should fear me,” Prija whispered in her mother’s tongue.
The sunshine male walked in. “Why should we fear you?”
Prija opened her eyes. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. It had been too long.
The sunshine man intrigued her. His eyes were like water they were so blue. Who had water eyes? If she touched them, would her finger go through them like liquid? The mental picture nearly made her laugh.
“Why should we fear you?” he asked again, crouching down.
She wanted to speak, but the pounding wings of the Fallen exhausted her. He didn’t have wings. Not really. But enough of his sycophants thought him a god that he’d created them with his mind. Her own father had been the same. Tenasserim could manifest things with his mind.
Just like Prija could twist the shadow.
But she didn’t have a voice anymore. Using it was too exhausting. Killing her father had locked it inside. Because while she’d hated him with every part of her, she’d loved him in the same way. Killing him had been killing part of herself. That was what Sura and Niran never understood.
She’d also died that day. She’d died with Kanok.
A small gasp from the moonfaced girl.
“He was your twin,” she said. “The brother who died. Kanok was your twin.”
Prija closed her eyes again, but this time she couldn’t block out the woman.
I know you understand me, she said. I have a brother too.
Prija’s eyes flew open.
I have a twin. He is the other part of me. The woman’s eyes were full of tears. If he died, I might not want to live either.
Prija looked at the sunshine man.
Maybe for him, the woman said. Maybe I would live for him. Can you live for those who love you, Prija? The woman reached back and brought a backpack out. She opened the zippered case and drew out a black-and-red-striped fabric.
Prija cocked her head. It was Intira’s weaving.
“Intira made this for you,” the scribe said. “She wanted Kyra to bring it to you. She said you’d understand.”
“She said”—Kyra spread out the weaving—“you’d understand what it meant. And that you had to come back for Intira to finish. That she wouldn’t finish unless you came back.”
Stubborn, brilliant girl. Prija still didn’t see it. She tried, but…
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“Leo thinks it’s some kind of music,” Kyra said.
Music?
One of Prija’s old visions came to life. Stars across the sky. Scattered. Rising and falling voices and notes.
Of course. Intira had taken her own stars and turned them into mathematics. Into geometry. It was how she saw everything.
Did she know?
How could she have known?
She couldn’t hear anymore, but if Prija could read the music, she could kill Arindam the same way she’d killed her father.
This time when she opened her mouth, she couldn’t stop the words.
“Who showed her this song?”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Kyra couldn’t speak Lao, but Leo could.
“Vasu,” he said. “At least that’s who we think showed her.”
“I don’t know… Vasu.” Prija’s voice sounded like rusted nails.
“He’s one of the Fallen.”
Prija’s lip curled.
“But he’s not… predatory. Or not always. He has helped us in the past. And he wants to kill Arindam.”
“Wings,” Prija choked out. “Not… real.”
“They look real to me.”
Prija shook her head. “Created. Mind.”
“He can create wings with his mind?”
Prija nodded.
“So Prija”—Leo leaned forward—“if he can create things in his mind, what can you do?”
Prija’s eyes dropped to the weaving. Then she looked at Kyra. “She hears him?”
“Yes. But she doesn’t know how to write music this way.”
“I don’t.” Prija shook her head. “Intira… not understand. Not all minds like hers.”
Leo’s heart sank. “So this means nothing to you?”
“I know what it means,” Prija said. Her voice was growing stronger the longer she spoke.
Leo handed her water and watched while she drank.
“I know,” Prija said, her voice a little smoother. “But I don’t hear anymore. She thought she could write the music so I could play, but her mind sees things that others don’t.”
Leo didn’t know how to wrap his mind around that, but he tried to make sense of what Prija was saying. “So you’re saying that if you could hear what the angel sounds like, you can do… what?”
“Is my instrument still in the complex?”
“Yes.”
“Then I can do what I do.”
“Is that how you killed your father?”
Prija offered him a narrow smile.
Leo turned to Kyra, who’d been waiting patiently while Prija and Leo spoke in words she had no way of understanding. “Can you sing Arindam’s song to Prija?”
She blinked. “Can I what?”
“Can you sing—”
“I can’t sing. Leo, you know I can’t—”
“Not magical singing. Just… singing. Let her hear what the Fallen sounds like. To your ears, sing that.”
Kyra shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“There are harmonics. There are multiple notes. There are—”
“Tell her to show me,” Prija said.
Leo looked between the two women. “She said you could show her.”
“Show her the music?” Kyra threw up her hands. “I can’t do that either!”
Leo smiled. “Speak to her mind, Kyra. Just like you have been. Listen to Arindam’s song and let her hear it too. You’ve done it with me!”
Kyra shook her head. “You don’t understand. I don’t know how I do that with you. I’ve never done it before. I don’t—”
“Try.” Prija spoke in broken English. She forced her lips and tongue around the words. “You try.”
Leo rose to his feet when he heard footsteps outside.
“It’s Niran,” Kyra said before he could turn. “The fight against Arindam isn’t going well.”
“I’ll go,” Leo said. “You stay with Prija and find a way, Kyra. Find a way to let her hear Arindam’s song.” He grabbed her chin and planted a hard kiss on her mouth. “I know you can do it. Just because it’s not the same as the Irina doesn’t mean you don’t have a song.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Kyra was left with Prija, still having no idea how she was supposed to “show” Arindam’s strange music to the other woman.
“You can understand English?”
Prija nodded.
“More than a little?”
Prija shrugged.
Kyra sighed. “I wish I spoke more Thai.”
“Lao,” Prija croaked. “I speak Lao.”
“Sorry. Lao.” She rose. “You need your instrument from the other building to do this?”
Prija nodded.
“Then that’s what I’m going to do.” She took the gun Leo had given her from the holster at her waist. Silence was no longer an issue. The compound around them rang with sound. Crashing and screaming for the most part. The smell of smoke filled the air. “Can you use this?”
Prija took the gun and nodded again.
“Good. Keep your back to the wall and shoot anyone not friendly.” Kyra just hoped that Rith didn’t come in. He was the only one of the party that Prija had never met. “Unless he’s carrying a black knife about this long.” She held her hands a foot apart. “That one is ours. He’s a scribe.”
Prija curled her lip, but she nodded anyway.
A thought occurred to Kyra. “The men who took you. One of them was a scribe. Is he still here?”
She shook her head. “Dead.”
All in all, it was probably for the best. They didn’t need a seasoned warrior working with their enemy. “Okay, keep your head down and I’ll be back.”
“Not hurt.” Prija sat up. “Only thirsty. Go with you.”
“I’ll bring water to you. Trust me, this place smells a lot better than the last one.” She tucked her stray hair under the watch cap she’d tugged on earlier and ducked out the doorway, following the red glow outside.
The forest was in flames.
Luckily, the compound itself was clear of most brush or anything flammable. Kyra only hoped that Sura had gotten the women away before the fire started. She ran along the path toward the women’s block where they’d rescued the others earlier, keeping to the shadows in the red glow of the forest fire. Overhead, she heard him and her eyes rose.
Arindam the Fallen was thick in the battle.
She didn’t care what Prija said, those wings were real. She’d seen angels grow into monsters. She’d seen them appear and disappear at will. She’d never seen one fly. But when she finally saw the Fallen in the red glow of the fire, she knew what Prija meant. Whatever his original form, he had taken on the body of the idol she’d seen at some of the temples. He had the head of a man with a curved beak like a vulture. His muscled arms stretched out, and wings sprouted from the bottom of them. His body was that of a man, but instead of feet, he had massive claws that clutched a flaming branch.
He perched on the top of the temple and roared over the clearing as the scribes and free Grigori shot at him. One of Niran’s men was using arrows, which seemed to be the only thing not bouncing off the monster’s skin. When he roared, Kyra felt it like a pressure in her mind. She nearly went to her knees, but she remembered Prija waiting for her and moved on. As she ran, she didn’t try to block the monster’s song out. It was the same static, pulsing with an unearthly low rhythm. She focused on it and tried to think of it like the wind through trees—low and repetitive—and not a monster’s siren call.
She entered the building where the women had been kept and was immediately hit in the face by the sour smell of urine again. Arindam truly was a monster if he could keep his own women in this filth. Kyra had seen a lot, but she’d never been subjected to conditions like this.
She ran to the back room and grabbed the long neck of the instrument she’d seen Prija playing, returning at the last minute to grab the thin bow that went with it. She rushed out and
ran straight into Leo.
“What are you doing?” he shouted.
“Getting her instrument!” She looked over his shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“Getting nowhere in this fight. This angel is impenetrable to bullets, and we only have one archer.”
“Not something you foresee taking into battle anymore.”
“Niran anticipated.” Leo grimaced. “We’ve killed all the Grigori or they’ve run. It’s just the angel, but nothing we do is working. We can’t even reach him. I think he’s laughing at us.”
On cue, a booming laugh echoed over the hilltop.
“I think you’re right,” Kyra said. “Let me take this back to Prija and see if we can get anywhere with it.”
“Have you figured out how to—”
“No. Don’t ask. I’m working on it.”
Kyra ran back to Prija, and Leo turned toward the fire.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Are they getting anywhere?” Niran asked him. The two men were crouched behind a low wall that had been shattered by the angel’s fist. He was playing with them and enjoying it.
“Of course they are,” Leo said. “They just need time.”
“You’re lying.”
“You know as well as I do.”
“Prija is fine?”
“She’s healthy and angry as hell.”
Niran smiled. “A promising combination.”
“She’s talking to Kyra.”
His eyebrows went up. “I haven’t heard her speak in years.”
“Well, now she’s talking to Kyra.”
The news seemed to invigorate Niran. He rose and hurled a chunk of stone at the angel’s perch on the temple. It fell short, but Leo had to admire the effort. He ducked down when a fireball hit the back of the wall.
Rith jumped over it a few seconds later. “We need to find a way to get him down or get us up.”
Leo popped his head up and looked at the sharply sloped roof. “Getting us up would only result in us falling down.”
“So we need to take him out of the air,” Rith said. “Unless I can get close enough to him, I can’t use this blade. I’m not going to risk throwing it at him. If he takes if from us, we have nothing.”