CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The journey south took three days.

They travelled by Naga — which was, Meera discovered, nothing like riding a horse and nothing like any mode of transportation she'd ever experienced.

Takshak in his full form was enormous — his body stretched fifty feet from hood to tail, his scales the colour of dark emerald, his eyes burning gold. He moved through the landscape like a river flowing uphill — sinuous, powerful, silent — and on his back, secured in a howdah carved from a single piece of dark wood and lashed to his body with leather straps, Meera and Aisha rode.

The howdah was the Naga equivalent of a coracle — an enclosed cabin with high sides, a cushioned floor, and small windows that let in the wind. It swayed with Takshak's movement, a rolling rhythm that was hypnotic and, for the first hour, deeply nauseating.

"You'll get used to it," Aisha said, handing her a leather flask of water. "The trick is to keep your eyes on the horizon."

"There is no horizon. We're in a forest."

"Then look at the trees. The movement helps."

Meera looked at the trees. The forest of Devgarh gave way to rolling hills, the hills to wide valleys, the valleys to a landscape that was subtly different from anything she'd seen in Chhaya Lok so far. The colours warmed — the greens deepened, the earth turned from grey-brown to red-brown, and the air, which had been mountain-cold in Devgarh, grew warmer with each passing hour.

"Tell me about Suryanagar," Meera said.

"It's the richest kingdom in western Chhaya Lok." Aisha leaned back against the howdah's cushioned wall. "Where Devgarh is mountains and forests and snow, Suryanagar is plains and rivers and heat. They grow things we can't grow in the north — cotton, spices, rice. Their traders are the wealthiest in the realm."

"And Regan rules it?"

"She's queen consort. The Raja of Suryanagar — Raja Vikramaditya — is technically the ruler, but Regan is..." Aisha chose her words carefully. "Regan is the one who makes things happen. Vikramaditya is a scholar. He'd rather be in his library than on his throne. Regan manages the court, the alliances, the trade agreements."

"So she's the real power."

"In all but name."

"And your cousin Nisha?"

"Nisha is Regan's daughter from her first marriage — to a Dakshin lord who died young. She's ambitious, clever, and deeply resentful of Tara's legacy." Aisha's voice was careful, the voice of someone navigating familial loyalty and truth. "She wanted to be special. To have power of her own. Being the stepdaughter of a king and the cousin of a Nag-Bandhu was never enough."

"Did she want to be Nag-Bandhu herself?"

"Humans don't choose the bond. The Naga chooses. But yes — Nisha studied everything she could about the Naga bond. She spent years trying to make herself... attractive to Takshak." Aisha paused. "It didn't work. The bond isn't something you can engineer."

"But if Tara was removed—"

"Then the bond would be broken. The Naga would eventually seek a new Bandhu. And if Nisha had positioned herself correctly..."

"She'd be the obvious choice."

"Except Takshak retreated to the lakes and never chose anyone." Aisha looked at Meera. "Until you."

The howdah swayed as Takshak crested a hill, and the view opened up — a vast river valley stretching to the horizon, the water gleaming like polished silver in the grey light. On the far bank, rising from the plains like a golden dream, was a city.

Suryanagar.

Even from this distance, Meera could see it was beautiful — domed palaces and carved temples, walls of honey-coloured stone, gardens that tumbled in green cascades from terraced hillsides. Banners in gold and white snapped from the highest towers, and the river curved around the city like a protective arm.

"It's beautiful," Meera said.

"It is." Aisha's voice was quiet. "And it's dangerous. Remember what I said — everyone smiles, everyone is polite."

"And everyone has a blade behind their back."

"Vikram told you that."

"He's a perceptive man."

"He's a grumpy man who happens to be right about most things." Aisha squared her shoulders. "We'll arrive by evening. Regan will receive us — she has to. I'm her niece, and you're Tara's Prakash-Bandhu. Protocol demands hospitality."

"What if protocol isn't enough?"

Then I will remind them,* Takshak said in her mind, *that a Naga stands at your side. And that the last person who harmed my Bandhu is the reason I spent two years grieving in the deepest lake in the mountains.

Meera rested her hand on the howdah's wooden rail and watched Suryanagar grow closer. The golden city. The seat of power. The place where, if her theory was right, the conspiracy that killed her sister had been born.

"Let's go meet my stepmother," she said.

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