CHAPTER TWELVE

Vikram caught her arm outside the hall. Takshak hissed — a deep, vibrating sound that made the stone floor tremble.

Vikram dropped his hand. "Meera, we need to talk."

"Why?" She kept walking, feeling Arjun's eyes burning into her back from somewhere behind them. She hated being the centre of attention, and that throne-room episode had left her shaking.

Added to that, she had a nearly seven-foot-tall Naga in human form at her back, radiating heat like a forge and glowering at everyone with gold slit-pupilled eyes.

"You know why."

She stopped. This was Vikram. Whatever else he was — gruff, infuriating, cryptic — he was the only person in this dimension she could truly relate to. He was from her world. He understood her world.

And he'd been honest with her. Mostly.

"Fine." She looked at Takshak. "It's okay. Vikram is..." She searched for the word. "He's on my side."

"I am on your side." Takshak's gold eyes examined Vikram. "This human was not in Chhaya Lok when Tara died. He has no magic. He is not a suspect."

Vikram stiffened. "Was I being evaluated?"

"Everyone is being evaluated," Meera said. "Get used to it."

They walked out of the fortress and into the cold air. The courtyard was emptying as midday approached — the traders packing their stalls, the guards changing shift, a woman herding a flock of goats through the gate with the efficient irritation of someone who'd done this every day for decades.

Beyond the walls, the valley stretched out — green hills rising to dark forests, and above the forests, the mountains, their peaks lost in the pewter cloud that served as sky.

"Tell me about Tara's murder," Meera said. "Everything you know."

Vikram walked beside her as Takshak strode ahead, his leather-armoured form parting the crowd like a ship's prow through water. People stepped aside. Some bowed. Some simply stared.

"Two years ago. A feast at the fortress celebrating the harvest moon — they have their own calendar here, their own festivals. Tara was seated at the high table with Arjun and the Maharaja. Aisha was there. The Gandharva emissaries were there. Traders from the south. A delegation from Suryanagar."

"What happened?"

"Midway through the feast, Tara collapsed. Aisha was the first to reach her. She described it as sudden — one moment Tara was laughing, the next she was on the floor, convulsing." Vikram's jaw worked. "It took three days for her to die. Three days of fever and delirium and pain."

"And Aisha couldn't identify the cause?"

"She said it looked like a natural fever. A sudden illness. But Tara was the healthiest person in the fortress — she rode every day, trained with the guards, bonded with Takshak regularly. She'd never been sick."

I was not here.* Takshak's voice in her mind was heavy with grief. *I had gone to the deep lakes to tend to my young. I left her, believing she was safe in her own home. If I had been here...

"You couldn't have known," Meera whispered.

I should have known. A Naga protects his Bandhu above all else. I failed.

"Cadell — I mean, Takshak." She corrected herself. "You didn't fail. Someone else did something terrible. That's not your fault."

The Naga said nothing, but she felt a pulse of gratitude through the bond — warm, ancient, vast.

"Who was at the feast?" Meera asked Vikram.

"Everyone. The entire court. Two hundred people."

"That's a lot of suspects."

"It is. But Aisha has a theory — or at least she did two years ago. She thinks the poison was administered through Tara's drink. The wine at the high table was served from a communal pitcher, but Tara always had her own cup — a bronze cup with a serpent motif, her personal drinking vessel."

"So someone tampered with her cup specifically."

"That's Aisha's theory. The cup disappeared after the feast. It was never found."

"Who had access to the cup?"

"Anyone who served at the high table. The kitchen staff, the servers, the Maharaja's household." Vikram paused. "And Aisha herself."

Meera looked at him sharply. "You suspect Aisha?"

"I don't suspect anyone yet. I'm giving you the facts." His eyes were hard. "Aisha is a healer. She had access to Tara's food and drink. She had knowledge of poisons. And she was the first person to examine Tara after she collapsed."

"She's also the person who's been most vocal about Tara being murdered. Why would she draw attention to a crime she committed?"

"To control the investigation. To direct suspicion away from herself."

Meera considered this. "Or because she's genuinely heartbroken and wants justice."

"Could be either. Could be both." Vikram kicked a stone down the path. "Welcome to court politics."

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They reached the hilltop above the village where a round stone tower stood — ancient, crumbling, its walls dark with lichen. Takshak examined the tower with interest, then stretched his body in the open air. A shimmer passed over his skin, and the human form dissolved.

In his place, the Naga appeared — not the enormous flying form that had shadowed the courtyard, but something between sizes. Large enough to coil around the tower's base, his emerald scales catching the light, his great hood partially spread, his gold eyes half-closed in something that looked like contentment.

This place is good.* His voice was a warm rumble. *I will rest here. You may examine me if you wish.

She approached him. Up close, his scales were individual works of art — each one the size of her palm, faceted like a gemstone, cool and smooth to the touch. She ran her hand along his flank, and the scales rippled under her fingers like water.

"You're beautiful," she breathed.

You flatter me, Nag-Bandhu. Nagas are built for survival, not beauty.

"False. You're gorgeous and you know it."

A sound came from the Naga that might have been laughter — a low, vibrating hum that she felt in her teeth.

Vikram sat on the stone wall, watching them. "You really can communicate with him."

"It's like..." She searched for the right comparison. "Like having someone on speakerphone in your head. I can hear his thoughts — the ones he directs at me. I can feel his emotions. But I don't think I can talk back to him mentally. I have to speak out loud."

"Seren could communicate both ways," Vikram said.

In time,* Takshak said. *The bond deepens with time. Seren and I were bonded for eighteen years. You and I have been bonded for one day.

"Tell me about Seren's death," Meera said. "From your perspective."

The Naga's great body went still. Then:

I was in the deep lakes — the mountain tarns below the glacier, where my young were hatching. Nagas lay their eggs in the deepest, coldest water. I had been there for three days when I felt the bond break.

"Break?"

Like a root being torn from the earth. One moment she was there — I could feel her heartbeat, her breathing, the warmth of her blood. The next, silence. Absolute silence. As if someone had cut a cord that connected me to the centre of the world.

"And you came back?"

I flew back. It took me half a day. By the time I arrived, she was dead. Her body was in the healing rooms. Aisha was with her.* A pause. *Aisha was crying. I have never seen a human cry as Aisha cried that day.

"Did you sense anything before the bond broke? Any warning?"

No. That is what troubles me. A poison that can kill a Nag-Bandhu without the Naga sensing it — that is not an ordinary poison. That is something designed specifically to sever the bond before it kills.

"Which means whoever made it knew about the Naga bond."

Yes. This was not a crime of opportunity. This was planned by someone who understood the deepest magic of our connection.

Meera felt the hair on the back of her neck rise. "How many people would have that knowledge?"

Very few. The Gandharva healers. The old texts in the library. Perhaps a healer trained in both human and Gandharva medicine.

Like Aisha.

Meera looked at Vikram. He met her eyes, and she could see that he'd been thinking the same thing.

"I need to talk to more people," she said. "Everyone who was at the feast. Everyone who had access to Tara's cup. And I need access to the library — the texts about Naga bonds, about poisons, about whatever magic could do what was done to Tara."

Be careful, Nag-Bandhu. The person who killed Tara is still in this fortress. And you wear her face.

"I know." She rested her hand on Takshak's scales. "That's exactly why I'm staying."

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