Best Laid Plans
When Prem opened her eyes, she tilted her head back and saw Pranay, upside-down, staring at her from the other side of the cell bars. For a second they both stayed that way, eyes locked, neither of them saying anything. The bright light of early morning sunshine coming in through the windows made the eldest Marantha sister shine like white diamond in the gray gloom.
“You look terrible,” Pranay said.
Prem rolled up to a seated position and rubbed the back of her head. “I’ve had worse nights. My ass is a little sore, if you must know.” She felt drained again. Her conflicting emotions of desertion and confusion after leaving Yash’s place and the lingering anger at her dream, all of it vanished. Now a familiar sense of awkwardness came rushing back, no matter how much Prem hated it.
“Well, we can’t have that,” Pranay said.
“How’d you know I was here?”
Pranay shook her head. “I’ll tell you in the car.”
The younger sister looked at the window, turned back squinting. “What time is it?”
“It’s a quarter-of-seven in the morning.”
“So much for just taking a nap,” Prem said, covering a yawn.
Pranay furrowed her brows for a second, then shook her head. “Never mind.” A member of the Police approached, passed the mantrik and unlocked the cell door. As Prem stood, Pranay looked down, gestured towards the floor. “What happened to your boots?”
“They got confiscated because I was naughty, I suppose.” Prem wiggled her toes before she stepped out of the cell. Some of the old Sachin spark in her wasn’t ready to die yet, which was Prem’s only explanation for her relaxed tone of voice. “They took my knives too.”
“The nerve of them.”
Now Prem frowned. “Are you making fun of me?”
Pranay waited until the man started walking back up the hallway before she winked at Prem and turned to follow him. Prem didn’t expect that at all. She blinked, gave herself a slight pinch to prove she was actually awake.
Pranay was the last person Prem expected to show up, though in truth, she didn’t expect anyone to come get her at all. Her plan upon waking was waiting for an opportune moment to escape: no cell could hold her for long, not with Vati’s magic at her beck and call. Now, if Pranay was there, it meant her other sisters knew where Prem was, too. She stifled a groan, imagining all sort of ways Priya would make her life even more miserable.
A member of the Royal Guard stood at the end of the hall, with two more at the doors of the station, tall and at attention in resplendent red coats with gold stars at their breasts, pressed white gloves and shiny black boots. Prem always thought the Guard uniform looked stuffy and ostentatious, not to mention unbearably hot, but all the Guards-men and -women seemed to wear their colors with pride.
Given the high stature of their guest, the Parliamentary Police were making a show of force as well: they filled the entry hall, all standing at attention, watching Pranay as she walked in. When Prem entered she felt their eyes boring into her as well, following her as they headed for the doors.
“Damnit,” Prem said, stopping just before the doors.
Pranay looked over her shoulder. She’d tied her long hair into a massive bun at the back of her head and three long braids that hung down to the small of her back. “What is it?”
“This means there are reporters waiting outside, doesn’t it?” Any sense of relief at Pranay’s appearance vanished like a rain puddle under a summer sun.
The elder sister shrugged. “Naturally. Now hurry up and get your things.”
Prem bit tongue and cheek together to keep from offering an ungracious response. Opposite the front doors sat a long, marble counter. Prem walked up to it and picked out the nicest-looking person she could find: a woman around Priya’s age, standing at attention. Her eyes got progressively wider as Prem approached, then wider still when pointed at.
“You,” Prem said.
The woman started, as if the one word had the force of a physical blow. “Y-yes?”
“One of your colleagues took my boots, my belt and a pair of knives when I got here. I’d like them back. Please.”
“Yes, of course! They’ll be in the holding locker, one moment.” The young woman turned and disappeared through a nearby doorway, her feet thumping on the old tile floors. That left Prem drumming her fingers on the countertop while she waited, trying and failing to ignore everyone staring at her.
A moment later, the policewoman returned with Prem’s muddy boots, and both knives still hanging from her belt. “Oh, good,” Prem said, “at least now I can keep my pants up.”
“Prem.” Pranay’s tone sounded exactly like Prem’s hazy memories of their mother: patient, but just shy of outright chiding.
“Fine, fine, I’m coming.” Prem gestured with her things, nodding at the woman. “Thank you.”
The woman smiled, starry-eyed, and bobbed her head in a quick, repeated nod. “Yes, you’re welcome.”
Prem followed Pranay to the door but stopped at the last second, holding up one finger as the Guardsmen started to open it; they saw her motion and stopped. Outside, Prem could hear the sound of the reporters starting to shout for Pranay, even before they saw her face.
“Prem, what is it?”
“I saw someone.” Prem looked back, scanning the faces of the gathered crowd, and finally found who she was looking for. “Hey, there—you, with the scar.”
The long-nosed man, the one who put Prem in her cell, suddenly had the attention of the entire room. His olive skin turned a shade of stomach-turning green, making his scar stand out like a lightning bolt.
“I’ll make sure to mention that shagging you asked about when I see the Rani later.” Then Prem winked, puckered up, and blew him a kiss; she’d never seen a grown man faint before, wondered if he would be the first. Then Prem turned, ignoring the confused look on her sister’s face. “I feel better. Okay, we can go now.”
The interior of the royal boilercar had plush leather seats and a mahogany paneled floor inlaid with red cedar, but the luxury was hard to care about when Prem’s kinetosis came rushing back with a vengeance. She leaned her head against the window, hoping the cool surface might quench the nauseating heat in her belly. Closing her eyes only made it worse, so she tried for an old trick her father taught her of staring out as far in the distance as she could, which made for a challenge given how close the buildings were all pressed together. Any remnant of Prem’s good mood was gone with a hot breeze and a whiff of stomach acid. “Leave me somewhere to die,” she moaned, swallowing past a lump of something foul-tasting at the back of her throat.
“You have to get used to it someday,” Pranay said with the barest hint of sympathy in her voice. She sat across from Prem with an open copy of the Daily Gazette on her lap, scanning the print through her spectacles. Pranay had worn glasses for as long as Prem could remember, due to severe hyperopia. “Anything else you’d like to share with me before Priya locks you inside your cell at home for safe-keeping?”
Prem licked her lips and took a long breath, but she kept her eyes focused outward. Traffic was backed up through a wide intersection. Riders on velocipedes, two-wheeled steam-powered bikes, darted in-between the cars wherever they found room amidst the gridlock. She could see all the way to the Genja in-between the skyscrapers, watching the boats slicing through its placid waters. “Not particularly. You said you’d tell me how you found out where I was once we got in the car.”
“I got a visitor this morning. A daayani.” Pranay’s tone had the faintest hint of distaste. “She said that she was a friend of yours.”
Prem looked over, unable to stop herself. “Yash told you?”
Pranay nodded. “She did. You made some very…interesting friends while you were away, that’s for certain.” Pranay raised her eyebrows. “So tell me what happened.”
With traffic crawling at such a slow pace, Prem took another deep breath, thankful that her stomach had still decided not to fold itself inside-out. “What do you want to know?”
Pranay sighed. “Perhaps you can start by explaining why the papers are all reporting that Deputy Neru was abducted by one of the Rani’s sisters.”
Prem groaned. “Shit.”
The elder sister continued: “I believe the Gazette labeled you an ‘unconfirmed person of interest,’ but their editorializing is relatively tame as papers go. Shall we stop by a news-stand and see what the Express or Bhai Mandwa News is saying instead?”
Prem winced, squeezing both eyes shut before opening one again. “Be nice.”
“Prem, you tell us you’re going off to investigate, so you decide to jump into the river with Kunaia’s son, swim down to the Bay and get yourself arrested? What were you thinking? And what did you assume the broadsheets would say when the news got out, as it always does?” Pranay sat rigid in her seat, her nostrils flared, eyes shining in the morning sunlight—that was practically unhinged for someone like her. “Anybody with a working printing press is selling this story, talking about how one of the Rani’s sisters tried to kidnap or even murder the now-outed Prime Minister’s son.” The mantrik gestured towards the window. “You’re just lucky that half of this city thinks you’re still an urban legend.”
Prem couldn’t argue with Pranay, even if her ego wanted her to. “I had no way of knowing he’d be anywhere near that temple. And how was I supposed to know that somebody put out a contract on him? The man should’ve had better sense than to go someplace that he didn’t belong.”
The sensation of disapproval coming from Pranay felt almost palpable; the inside of the car was thick with it. “This so-called ‘friend’ of yours also told me that she helped get you arrested. Any idea why she would’ve done something like that?”
“I have my suspicions,” Prem said before frowning at her sister. “And Yash isn’t a ‘so-called friend.’”
“Fine.”
“I mean it, Pranay.”
Whatever was in Prem’s voice brought the older sister up short, and she seemed to consider her words more carefully. “Alright, fair enough. Your suspicions, then.” Pranay cocked an eyebrow. “What are they?”
“Well…maybe just one suspicion.”
Pranay closed her paper, folding it up before laying it on the seat next to her. Then she crossed one leg over the other, resting both hands in her lap. “Go ahead.”
“I think Yash tipped off the bluebottles to get us safely out of the Bay.”
Pranay’s eyebrow refused to go down. “You and Deputy Neru.”
“Yes.”
“And what’s your rationale behind this suspicion of yours?”
It felt more like an interrogation to Prem than a conversation. She smothered the urge to cross her arms and sulk like a child during a scolding, but still felt cornered, trapped, and even irritated by her older sister’s need to dress her down. Taking a long, calming breath, Prem focused and found her voice. “Any runner in Black Bay could get half an army of bluecoats down there in just a few minutes if they were motivated enough. Yash had to know that tipping off the police was the quickest way to get us out, since there are plenty of people living there that wouldn’t hesitate to take a shot at a solitary policeman.”
“And who would’ve told them he was a member of the Parliamentary Police?”
“Oh, please.” Prem snorted. “News travels like the plague in those parts, and whether his parentage is common knowledge or not, it isn’t as though Mariander’s some faceless member of the rank-and-file; it’s possible someone could’ve recognized him. And it’s a long walk from the river to Yash’s shack, so plenty of people saw us together, I’ll bet. News was bound to get out before long.” It seemed best not to say precisely how she’d gotten the man to Yash’s house, so as the car began to pick up speed again, Prem just kept staring out the window, looking at her sister’s dulled reflection in the glass.
“So it’s ‘Mariander’ now,” Pranay said with a thoughtful look.
“What do you mean? That’s the man’s name, isn’t it?” Prem didn’t bother to hide the irritation in her voice. “I don’t want a lecture from anybody, Pray, least of all from you. I get enough nagging from Priya as it is.”
“Maybe if you took it as less of a lecture and more of a family member simply being concerned for your well-being, you wouldn’t be so eager to argue in the first place.” Pranay’s voice never rose in octave, never got hot or angry, but in a way that made it somehow worse. Prem knew how to handle anger, how to deflect it or just sit in silence until the heat of the moment passed. Pranay never lost her temper, never raised her voice, never showed any irrational emotion at all. She was the most composed and grown-up of all of them, and that made her impossible to read.
“I never asked any of you to be concerned about me,” Prem said. She knew Pranay wouldn’t like that, and since Prem didn’t know what else to say, so she stayed quiet after that.
For a long time, neither of them spoke. Prem didn’t know how to deal with Pranay and her refined coolness, or Preet’s pushing her around and constantly making light of everything, or Priya’s constant mothering. But they were her family, the only family she had left, and they were in danger. Circumstances required her to worry about the threat on all their lives, but that didn’t make it any easier for Prem to connect with the three strangers she was related to.
The elder sister broke the silence first: “Why are you so defensive? We’re concerned because we care about you. Do you always suspect everyone of having some kind of ulterior motive, Prem?”
Prem considered the question as she watched the glass towers and fine houses of the Gilded Quarter come into view. The Industrial District’s drab concrete and flat, angled architecture topped with smoking chimneys and spinning fans turned to green gardens, paved promenades of colored tiles and mosaics, tall windows and tiered roofs—pyatthats, bochkas and domes decorated with hammered gold and bright paint done in every color of the rainbow. “Yes,” she said at last, fighting against a soft quiver in her stomach as she turned to look her sister in the eyes. “Everyone.”
“But why?” Pranay seemed confused by Prem’s words and behavior. “What happened to you while you were gone? Is it because of the demon, the thing that took you away from us?”
“I said that I don’t want to talk about that.” Prem was angry at the direction the conversation had taken, and angry at herself for letting it go astray. She always tried to be more careful than that.
Pranay reached out a hand and Prem flinched. It made her sister pause, and Prem slid even closer to the window, pressing herself up against the side wall. “Don’t touch me. Please.” The look in her elder sister’s eyes was deeply sad, even hurt, but Prem didn’t care. The thought of physical contact made her skin want to crawl right off her bones. She repressed a shudder, fought not to clench her teeth. “You three have done nothing but want to touch, and hug, and say you understand, and…” Prem shook her head. “It doesn’t work that way. Not for me.”
“Then how does it work, Prem?” Pranay let her hand fall and spoke in a soft, slow tone. “Aren’t you upset at what happened? Aren’t you angry?” Prem didn’t answer, so the mantrik took a breath. “Whatever happened, we don’t judge you for it. You’re not a killer anymore. We love you now, we want you back. Even if it’s just to talk.”
There was no way for Pranay to know about Prem’s dream, about how she got so angry at Vati, how she told the demon that she’d kill whenever she wanted to. Pranay seemed to think that Prem had put her old life completely behind her, ignorant of the fact she’d likely murdered four people just hours earlier. Prem didn’t know how explain what life as Sachin was like—how it felt, what it meant to be drunk on the sensation of the hunt, or watching someone’s life end on the point of a blade. Whether that made her a villain or not, she didn’t know, but she didn’t care to know, either. Prem smiled, but it was for her own pleasure. “You wouldn’t understand, Pray. Nobody could, unless they lived through it. Trust me.”
To Prem’s surprise, her sister nodded. “That’s true. We don’t understand. But we want to, if you’ll let us…when you’re ready. That’s certainly the case for me, and I expect the others feel the same way.” Pranay adjusted her spectacles, rested both hands on her lap again. “Is that enough? For now?”
Prem forced herself to let go of her anger for the moment, felt it cool at the back of her throat. She took a breath, nodded. “Yes.” It was as much of an apology as Prem could give, and she hoped Pranay would understand that. It seemed to Prem that her eldest sister was mostly content to not poke her nose in where it wasn’t wanted. Prem had changed during their separation, and for now, it looked like Pranay could accept that.
“There might be something else,” Pranay said after awhile, “about your friend. Something you might not have thought of.”
“What’s that?”
Pranay leaned back in the leather seat, looking more relaxed for the moment, or at least less tense than before. “Say your friend contacted the Police. That doesn’t mean they had to arrest you.”
“But you said that—’’
The mage waved a hand in dismissal. “Forget what the papers say, Prem. The Press just repeats what they’re told; Father taught us that. They chew and chew and chew on what they’re fed, then they just vomit it all back up for the masses.”
“Preet probably would add a few sound effects for good measure if she’d said that.”
Pranay smiled. “Use your imagination, then. The point is that just because the papers say you kidnapped the Deputy, that doesn’t mean there’s any proof.”
Prem nodded.
“And we both know who’s really pulling the strings of the Parliamentary Police, don’t we?”
“That’d be Parliament and the Prime Minister, yes.”
“And what you don’t know is that Preet’s contacts all started shutting up once they were asked about this Gomati character, or about the assassination plot.”
Prem frowned. “But Preet seemed sure that she could find out something that way.”
“Maybe there’s something the Police aren’t telling anyone.” Pranay steepled her fingers, cool and composed as always. “Think about it. You’ve been home for less than two months. The papers are all talking about how you’re a timid little shut-in that never goes out and never has any visitors. Maybe the Police knew who you really were—they read newspapers, too. Maybe someone figured a night in their big, bad dungeon would scare you into staying out of their way. Maybe Preet is wrong, that they don’t really want our help finding Gomati, and this is as gentle of a warning as any of us are going to get if we keep poking our noses in where we aren’t wanted.”
“That makes some sense,” Prem said. It was an intriguing possibility, even if it made her hackles rise, that they thought she could be so easily intimidated, a demure little maid scared of scuffing her knees on a gaol cell floor after just one night. “Did you find out anything else from the news clippings?”
“Just that whoever collected them is very interested in you.”
Prem blinked. “What? Why do you say that?”
The eldest Marantha sister paused for a moment, then took a deep breath. “I’ve been a public figure for my whole life, Prem—we all have. Thirty years is a long time for newspapers to write about me, but most of those stories and pictures were about you: Mother’s announcement when she was pregnant with you; the day you were born; your first Kali Shodh river bathing; first birthday; first public appearance; first time dancing for Father; other New Year celebrations; your disappearance; years of rumored sightings; editorial pieces; investigations; when you came back home again…” Pranay sighed. “It’s the only common thread I’ve found so far. That, and another about some blood feud between two of the Bay gangs a few years ago, though I don’t know what that has to do with any of us.”
Prem still wanted to stay silent, but felt that Pranay had earned some of the truth from her. “No, that’s about me, too.”
Pranay opened her mouth, closed it. She was quiet for a long moment. “Something you’d like to talk about, maybe?”
“Not really.” Prem crossed her legs and squinted out the window, reminded again of her past deeds, of her latest dream. She felt more anger, shame, a little resentment. The past wasn’t Pranay’s fault, but Prem resented her for it anyway, resented her entire family, even if that wouldn’t change what happened. “I made some questionable choices early on in my…‘career,’ and a lot of people spent the next few years killing each other because of it.”
“You mean—’’
“I mean my actions started the whole blood feud in the first place. I started the war.”
It was Pranay’s turn to blink. “Spirits, Prem—that was because of you?”
“Mm.” Prem nodded. “Not trying to brag, but yes.”
“How’d you manage that?”
“I killed Nivas Hogenkal, the gang’s leader. When they found out, his men said that I was an Idrayani spy.”
From the look on her face, it appeared that Pranay was at a loss for words. She licked her lips, pushed her spectacles up, twisted the gold ring on her little finger. “Is it alright to ask why you did it?”
Prem pressed her lips tight together, blowing out a hard breath through her nose. “I lived in one of the Hogenkal towers for a time after I left home. Lots of street kids did. It wasn’t a particularly nice place, but I had work and somewhere to sleep, food to eat…even made friends.” She took a breath. “Then I found out what some of them lived through just to get a roof over their heads—Nivas wasn’t the only offender, but his appetites were the most…‘voracious,’ shall we say. He even took me to his room one night.” She coughed, remembering her dream, felt her stomach twist up. She watched Pranay’s reflection, waiting for the look of shame, disgust or some look of pity. “I made sure I was the last one, too.”
“… But you got away. You survived.” Pranay kept her features impossible to read, just like always.
Prem sniffed, nodded. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry, Prem.” Pranay reached over, resting her hand on Prem’s knee. Prem managed to not shrink back a second time, and Pranay pulled away a moment later.
“It was a long time ago,” Prem said. After so many years and so much practice saying it, she almost believed herself.
“But hold on a moment.” Pranay licked her lips, raising a finger. “You told us that was around the time you met Gomati, wasn’t it?”
“Well, yes, I suppose.”
“And that you were ‘acquaintances, not friends.’” When Prem nodded, her sister continued: “Maybe he had a connection to the man you killed. Maybe he’s holding a grudge for it.” Pranay gave Prem a hard look. “That could mean Gomati might not be after Priya at all—you might be the ‘royal bitch’ he wants. It’s you, Prem. He could be after you.”
Pranay’s observation caught Prem by surprise, and she felt immediately foolish for it. The reports of the blood feud had lingered at the back of her mind, a loose thread that made no sense. It might also explain Gomati’s appearance in her dream—maybe Vati was trying to warn her, to remind her of something. All of a sudden she saw the knot at the end of that loose thread, saw how it might connect to everything else. “Yes… That might make some sense, wouldn’t it?” Prem thought hard, concentrating, trying to catch up to an opponent that she could hardly even remember. It made her anxious, impatient and eager to do something, even if she had no idea what that something was. The car’s pace suddenly felt like a crawl again, and she wanted to kick open the door and take off at a run, without knowing where to go. “Pranay.”
“Yes?”
“Don’t tell the others—especially Priya. It’ll just make them worry for no reason.”
“Who, us? Worry?” Pranay tilted her head down, giving Prem a long look from under her eyebrows. “Yes, who would ever have a reason to worry about you?”
“I mean it. We’re just lucky we got wind of Gomati’s plan before anything happened. But we’re still three steps behind on this one.” The dead girl, the press clippings, the attack at the Red-Eye Temple, the news reports, even the Police—they were all parts in some plan, something so complicated that Prem needed to pick it all apart, to find out where everything fit into place. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to put Prem on the trail she was following, and not knowing why was the worst part. She forced that frustration away. “We need a way to even the odds in our favor.”
Pranay opened her hands. “I’m open to suggestions.”
“How far are you willing to go to protect Priya?”
The other woman never hesitated: “As far as I have to.” They held one another’s eyes, but now they were equals, siblings coming together for the sake of a common goal, any earlier disagreements forgotten.
Over Pranay’s shoulder, in the cabin’s corner, hung a wide horn of polished brass. Now sound began to emanate from it: the loud hum of traffic, of ringing bells and muffled voices, and beneath it all the familiar, liquid churning of the car’s engine. A voice spoke at the other end of the tube: “We’re approaching the Palace.”
“Very good,” Pranay said, raising her voice for the man’s benefit. “Thank you, Kurien.”
“Ma’am.” A second later, the tube closed and the quiet returned.
“What have you got in mind?” Pranay said.
“Something you probably won’t like very much.” Out the window, Prem could see the pearl-white towers of home coming into view, shining in the morning sun.
“Try me.”
“Gomati’s possessed by a Kushin, and the Kushin don’t like each other. That’s why they use humans to hide themselves, so they can’t be tracked or easily controlled.”
“I did know that, actually.”
“So what other kind of spirit is out there that could help us locate Gomati’s whereabouts?”
Pranay didn’t show any outward surprise, save for a slight paling along the line of her jaw as she clenched it. “I was afraid you’d suggest that.”
“You follow my meaning, then.”
Pranay nodded, but she didn’t say anything further. It was proof enough of both her acquiescence and her displeasure, made obvious by the look on her face.
Prem was apologetic, even spreading her hands. “I told you that you wouldn’t like it.”
Up ahead, the wide gate leading into the palace grounds was open for the day, and a line of cars awaited inspection to be allowed inside. Now that news of the assassination threat had spread, it appeared that Preet refused to take chances with the Rani’s safety. A huge crowd stood on the sidewalk behind a wrought-iron fence, peering into the courtyard, while a long row of policemen stood with their backs to the fence to block passage.
“No wonder traffic was backed up. When did that happen?” Prem said.
“They were already in place when I left this morning,” Pranay said, sounding none too happy herself.
“Kunaia’s going to send every other opposing party in Parliament into apoplexy, not to mention some of her own caucus. What is she thinking?”
“Who can say?” Pranay shook her head. “And right now, who can stop her?”
A long line of Royal Guard members stood at attention on the other side of the fence—they were armed, but all of them kept their hands tucked behind their backs. The Seneschal didn’t have the legal power to force the Police to disperse or to take the photoboxes away from any reporters in the crowd, but she could make it harder for anyone who tried to jump the fence or cause trouble, at least.
“They’re not all here because of me, I hope,” Prem said.
Pranay shook her head. “I’m sure someone would’ve told me. Something else must be going on.”
The heavy gates opened up ahead and their car was waved through, rolling right up to the front steps. A moment later the door opened and Prem stepped out, relieved to escape the vehicle’s confines at last. Reporters shouted at them from outside the fence, asking or demanding some kind of statement, their picture boxes clicking away like mad. Prem fought against the immediate temptation to run inside, tried to ignore the shouting as best she could. “I’m not used to being up this early,” she said, shielding her eyes from the bright, morning sun.
“That’s an understatement,” Pranay said, clutching the train of her dress in one hand and a Guard’s hand in the other as she stepped onto the curb. “We all thought you might be allergic to sunlight when you first came home.”
It made Prem smile to hear it, but she didn’t know what to say. Pranay’s mood was a little brighter already, but something dark still hung in the air between them, a hint of a storm cloud on that cheerful day. They’d put their scheming on hold for the moment, but their conversation clearly wasn’t finished yet.
A wide, sloping staircase made of white stone funneled guests up towards the palace’s huge entrance archway, which was decorated with tall white columns and ornate carvings. An open breezeway led into the reception area further inside. Two huge stone elephants with gold caparisons and capped tusks stood watch outside the doors; both were decorated during festivals and holidays, a practice Prem remembered from when she was a little girl.
Preet came down the stairs in their direction. Her red coat was unbuttoned and she wasn’t leaving a trail of smoke in her wake the way she usually did, which stuck out to Prem. “Something’s wrong,” she said to Pranay.
The Guards in their company all saluted Preet when she came closer. The Seneschal returned the salute, but there was a distracted look on her face and something in her eyes made Prem’s hackles stand up. “Good, you’re finally back,” Preet said. “You both have got to help me.” Then she stopped, looking at Prem a second time. “You look terrible.”
Prem rolled her eyes, her patience completely spent. “You too, kuthri,” she said, adding a gesture for effect.
“Hey!” Preet huffed, eyes widening, raising herself up even higher.
“No, no—not out here,” Pranay said, pushing between them. “Not with the crowds and the reporters watching!”
“What’s your problem?” Preet said. She sounded upset—it looked like Prem’s insult had rattled her more than expected.
“Prem’s had a long night, Preet,” Pranay said, “and at your urging, I might add.”
Preet opened her mouth to argue, shut it, looked down at her feet like a sullen child. Pranay smiled at Prem and patted Preet on the shoulder. “That’s better.”
“Why are the bluecoats camping out on our doorstep?” Prem said.
“Kunaia Rao put them there, who else?” Preet pulled her hair back, blowing out a hard breath in frustration. “Do you think I invited them here to scare the pigeons away? And I’ve also been told that she’s on her way over here right now.”
“Kunaia’s coming here?” Prem frowned. “Again? Whatever for?”
“How should I know? Maybe she got bored of skinning and eating orphans, or whatever else she does for entertainment. I didn’t ask her for an itinerary.”
“Alright, alright,” Pranay said, trying to soothe Preet with calm, measured tones. “You said you needed help with something.”
“Yes, help me!” Preet was immediately restless again. “It’s Priya.” Preet hooked her arms around both sisters’ shoulders, leading them up the steps together as she growled in a softer voice. “She’s lost her goddamn mind!”
“Why? What happened?” Prem said. It was distracting, the three of them being huddled in so close together. She fought to keep from fidgeting, not wanting to start another argument.
Preet seemed to sense Prem’s hesitation, stopped walking and let her hand fall, but her scowl only got stronger for it. “Kali Shodh will be here in three days, the first since Father and Mother died. Half of the city’s going to be out celebrating the new year, and our genius sister’s convinced herself that she should go out there and start mingling with them!”
“That probably explains the crowd,” Pranay said, gesturing at the fence. “Not to mention the Police and the Press and Kunaia paying a surprise visit.”
“And that does sound like something Priya would think of doing,” Prem added.
“Don’t pay her any compliments,” Preet said. “I’m so furious at that girl right now I’ve got half a mind to stage a coup. It’s madness and nothing but. Gods, I need another smoke—I’ve been running around nonstop all morning.”
“It would accomplish what she wants, though,” Pranay said. Prem heard reluctance in her eldest sister’s voice. “It proves her point that she won’t be manipulated into hiding.”
“It’ll put me into an early grave, that’s what it’ll do.” Preet buried her face in both hands before sliding her fingers up to tighten in her hair. “I don’t have enough manpower to handle even half of the possible outcomes something like this could cause!”
Pranay reached out. “Preet—’’
“I can’t convince her to change her mind. You two have to help me.” Preet groaned aloud. “Mother and Father will come back and haunt my every step if something happens to that girl.”
“Preet! That’s enough!” Pranay motioned over Prem’s shoulder, sounding so unlike the Pranay that Prem was used to. She turned, following her sister’s gaze: someone had entered the yard and was approaching the steps, looking tall, fine and none the worse for wear.
It was Mariander Neru, and he was coming straight toward them.