The Claimed: Rashika's Resistance

Chapter 14: Puppet Master

When I finally fell asleep, I jerked awake just an hour or so later, rage coursing through my veins and heart pulsing in my ears. Various schemes danced on the ceiling above me, starting with finding Rona and then diverging into a hopelessly tangled web of possibilities. But all paths converged to one nonnegotiable ending.

King Makapu would die.

A large part of me wanted to march straight into his office, draw my blade, and slash it across his throat. I would watch the shock and horror pass over his eyes, watch him keel forward as his knees buckled, watch his last breath shudder out on a whimper. But if I killed him now, the guards would likely kill me, and worse, Makandi would take his place as King, continuing the cycle. If I wanted a real shift in power, I needed support.

I needed to join Rashika's Resistance.

At sunrise, I swung up onto a speckled mare and set off towards Pim's house. I distantly registered the passing scenery and crunch of brown grass under hooves as I plotted my next course of action. The only place I knew to find Izra was the Coupling. Could I really feign loyalty for six more days? And where would I hide Rona until then?

Within twenty minutes, I pulled up on the reins in front of a dilapidated cottage on a sloping hill. I strode toward the door, but I stopped before touching the handle. Pim had swung the door open and swept out an arm as though welcoming a guest at a grand ball, but when he followed me, he had to shimmy sideways and duck through the diminutive doorframe.

Oh, Pim.

I choked back a rising sob and tugged the door open. A tidy kitchen greeted me, undecorated but purposeful. An array of pots, pans, and utensils hung above the stove. Two large wooden chairs flanked a clunky wooden table. But unlike my previous two visits, dusty footprints now tracked through the kitchen, most leading to a door sequestered by a dangling hacked-apart padlock.

The padlock clunked against the wood as I pushed open the door. The sunlight behind spilled into the dark room, illuminating statues of silver, gold, bronze, and obsidian. A giant silver Lord Acrador stretched across half of the back wall, his rigid V-smile contrasting the round swell of his belly and the fluid curves of his four arms. The two-headed cat, Goddess Valavira, prowled near the entrance. Several others scattered the floor, howling, lurching, and fluttering in discord. Paintings cluttered the walls, depicting the statues in front of them.

And a gold Goddess Rashika splayed palms in the corner of the room, welcoming the chaos.

You were right, Pim, I wanted to tell him. You can swear fealty to Goddess Rashika and still worship the Lesser Gods. You can fight to defend Najila and still love a Trogolese child.

Rona. I needed to find Rona.

For Pim.

I paced around the room, hunting for a hidden nook or a sign of disturbance, but I could not even find any tiny footprints in the dust that settled between the bold statues. When I exited the room, I explored the granite bathroom and the small bedroom devoured entirely by a lumbering bed frame. A small closet revealed only a broom and a few extra-large crinkled tunics and trousers.

Where had Rona slept? And where could she be hiding now?

I slipped out of the house and picked my way around the perimeter, stopping to rustle bushes, peek under stray boards, and poke at rabbit holes in the ground. She's tiny. But even someone so tiny could not disappear entirely.

Perhaps the King had already killed her, too.

I quashed the thought and resumed the search, circling a larger perimeter around the home. With every shifting shadow behind a tree, my breath caught. With every scuttling rabbit and flutter of leaves across empty ground, my heart sank.