Hollow Palace (Wattpad Exclusive)

Chapter Twenty

Twenty

“Damn,” Eli said, peering at the smoke surrounding her. “I’m dead.”

“Not exactly,” a familiar breathy voice said from somewhere within the curling gray plumes.

“Not exactly?”

“I saved what little strength you lent me for this moment.” The voice was female and seemed to be getting closer, though no matter which way Eli looked, all she could see was smoke.

“I’ve waylaid you,” the voice said.

“Adra?”

“Yes.”

“Where are you?”

“Trapped,” Adra’s voice hissed. “I was sleeping, but you woke me, viprasha.”

“I am not a viprasha,” Eli said.

“Only the blood of a viprasha could have broken through Naga’s spell,” Adra said. “Only the blood of many viprashan could have cast it.”

Eli turned around in the smoke prison. The churning gray-white seemed endless. And stranger still, she seemed to be unbeatened, unpoisoned, undead. Yet somehow she’d known she was dead, or not exactly dead.

“So you’ve waylaid me, what does that mean?” she asked.

“Look,” Adra’s voice came from close behind her. Still nothing but smoke, until . . . The smoke began to clear. Before her, the palace hall emerged, gilded columns and pink marble floors. The vitra’s green-robed guards circled the dais, swords drawn. Jena swiveled back and forth, facing them, blade on guard. Kiran stood squared off with the vitra. And sprawled on the dais, not far from the vitra, was a limp, sad-looking figure with wild black hair and slate-gray skin. Tara knelt beside Eli’s body as the voices of the others grew clear enough for Eli to hear.

“Which is it?” Kiran demanded.

“I—” The vitra gestured to the open rosewood cabinet behind her. Within were four boxes, beautifully carved, but deceptively small and unassuming considering their power.

Tara’s flowing hair curtained her face as she touched Eli’s cheek.

Eli touched her own cheek, or what felt like a cheek. If her body was in the hall, then what was she touching? The smoothness and warmth of her skin greeted her fingers. Being not-exactly dead was very strange.

Kiran stormed past the vitra, into the alcove of ornate arabesques and the kosha cabinet.

“You can’t touch them,” the vitra said haughtily. Her guards shifted like they might surge forward, but Jena held her ground, and they didn’t attack. The vitra swept up to the cabinet and seized the kosha of Adrijana, clasping it beneath her pointed breasts. “The padaka is protected by her service. No natural means of death can kill—”

“She’s gone,” Tara said in a soft voice that, nonetheless, Eli heard perfectly.

Kiran spun around and Jena’s sword dipped and dropped to her side as she turned. The vitra’s mouth hung open.

Kiran dropped to his knee by her body and cupped her face in his hands. “Wake, adrijanya.” He bent his ear to her lips.

Jena came closer, while Tara turned away, her face in the crook of her elbow, her shoulders shaking.

“This can’t be,” the vitra said. A few of her guards lowered their swords and their heads.

“Is she?” Jena asked softly, standing over Kiran.