Hollow Palace (Wattpad Exclusive)

Chapter Eighteen

Eighteen

By the time the carriage stopped at the palace gates, a bitter tang was fermenting on her tongue. She wanted to scream at Kiran, who had transformed slowly back into the visage of a surjanya. She had nothing to say, she only wanted to scream. But she couldn’t even look at him.

When the carriage door opened, she had no trouble acting the part of a vami’s daughter. Her mood was brutal and dark.

She used one of the guard’s shoulders for support as she stepped down. The light was waning into burnt oranges and bloody reds. A dozen guards in loose red shirts and trousers formed a semi-circle before her. Long, slender swords were drawn and pointed at her, gleaming with oil light from the pale stretch of wall behind them. One guard stood before the others, an impressive array of feathers tucked into the side of his green head wrap, his face made longer by the drooping, russet mustache. His eyes moved smoothly like they were oiled in their deep sockets.

“Eli, padaka of Vami Malka of Adrijana, you are being taken into custody under the order of the vitra,” he declared.

“Thank the mountains and sky,” she said. His thick eyebrows rose. “Don’t look at me like that,” she snapped. “Take to me to the vitra immediately!”

Kiran and Jena stepped down from the carriage behind her. The guards’ attentions turned to them. Eli was glad it was still evident that she was not the dangerous one among this trio.

“Who are you?” the patihata demanded.

“She is my cousin and escort,” Eli said. She cocked a thumb at Kiran. “He is one of Vamin Darshan’s dried-up corpse pricks, along to prevent me from making an escape. But I have no intention of fleeing. Once the vitra has heard my story, she will know that I am innocent of any crimes of which I might be accused. Take me to her at once.”

The patihata had smirked when she’d insulted Kiran, which made her smile thinly and feel fully the role she was playing. He nodded to her and gestured for the massive brass gates to be opened. His guards lined up on either side and marched just behind them as the patihata led the way up the long gravel packed road to the palace.

Gardens sprawled away to either side, not bloom at this time of year, but no less grand with their fountains and meticulous design. Far ahead, the palace stood high above the flat plain of the city around. In the red light of sunset the plastered façade, its elaborate trelliswork and hundreds of balconies, glowed pink like raw scars. Stacks of richly carved stone made up the three towers, two on each end and one rising above all else, built actually in the center courtyard beyond, but gazing out over Devpur like a dome-headed god in itself. Figures of the gods remained intact among the higher carvings—the Hollow Palace having been deemed too beautiful to be destroyed completely. Once, Eli too had been awed. Now, she wished it had been smashed to rubble.

The walk was a long, terraced climb. Each step set Eli deeper into her vicious mood. When they finally reached the peaked doorway, framed by a threshold worthy of a mountain goddess, Eli’s ears were ringing and her jaw aching. She barely registered when they entered the palace. Marble columns guarded each doorway, floral arabesques on every ceiling, and in each niche, the crystal lamps threw rainbows over their faces. They passed from one grandiose room to the next and upwards, yet they were nothing but blurs of shimmer and color to her.

Then, at last, they came to the vitra’s receiving room. Half of the guards had remained outside, while the other half flanked them. The gilded doors swung inwards. Inside, the patihata stood, hand on the pommel of his sword, shoulders drawn back.

Eli hesitated. What was she going to tell the vitra? The truth? Could she do that with Kiran right behind her?

“Eli!” A lithe young woman with cascades of ivory blonde hair rushed out from the warm golden glow of the room and wrapped her skinny arms around Eli, enveloping her in the familiar mix of rose and marigold, seductive and bitter.