“That’s not true.”
She touches my shoulder, right where I tore it, my jaw, the scar along my torso from that night on the roof. “I thought we weren’t going to mention that?” I whisper.
She smiles as she cups her hand to my cheek and I pull her toward me, kissing her again. And she kisses me back. She kisses me back.
I don’t think I could come to my senses. Kissing Jatin…It’s like trying to describe pure happiness or the feeling of warmth. Your chest is light and heavy at the same time. You can feel each breath of air and it is both rich and all-consuming. I’m taller somehow, stronger.
But then one name knocks us both back into reality. Maharaja Moolek.
It’s like Jatin can read my mind, because we both reach for our skygliders at the same time.
“Do you have a plan? Or are we just barging into the palace?” he asks as we descend the stairs.
I look over at him. “It is my palace.”
“Fair enough, but this is Moolek we’re talking about.”
“We question him without getting manipulated, or killed.”
Jatin unsheathes his skyglider and it glows white. “That’s the worst plan you have ever come up with.”
I frown. “I know. Maybe we’ll think of something better as we fly.”
We don’t think of anything better. But we don’t exactly barge into the palace. I thrust the doors open to the throne room only to find it deserted.
Jatin stares at the orange stone walls adorned with Belwar’s nine-pointed sun glowing with the afternoon light. With the room empty, that sun appears foreboding. Like the rising semicircle could also be setting. “This is a warm welcome.”
A curtain at the other side of the hall shifts, revealing Prisha. “Adraa! There you are. I was worried and I didn’t know what to tell—” Prisha stops when she spots Jatin.
“Prisha, this is Jatin Naupure.” I hurriedly motion through the introduction.
“Jatin Naupure!” Her eyes widen as she looks him up and down. Her mouth does that mischievous twist. “I thought you would be taller.”
“And, Jatin, this is my rude little sister, Prisha Belwar.”
“I hear the resemblance,” he says as he gives her his respects.
“Hey,” both Prisha and I say at the same time. After we exchange a look I laugh. She examines me like I’ve lost it. But it’s Jatin teasing me, the boy who smells like frost and tastes like happiness.
“Prisha, do you know where Maharaja Moolek is?” I ask when I finally calm down.
“He’s gone. He left right after talking to you in the temple.”
“Gone where?” Jatin asks.
Prisha shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m not stupid enough to tailhim.”
Guess we didn’t need a better plan. There is no plan now. I turn to Jatin. “You think he came here to manipulate me? I thought for sure there were ulterior motives, like taking the firelight shipment or something. I’m not important enough to warrant a whole visit like this.”
“You’re firelight’s creator, the only creator. If he is stealing it, you are important enough. You are the most important.”
“But how are we going to find him?”
Prisha steps forward. “What’s going on?”
I had practically forgotten about her. And as I open my mouth to lie, something dawns in Prisha’s eyes and she jumps, waving her hands. “Wait— Oh my Gods. Hiren told me the Red Woman was after Bloodlurst and I thought that sounded wrong, but— You…you two are…You’re the Red—”
As I lunge toward my sister and clamp my hand over her mouth, our mother billows around the corner. “Prisha! I needed that sheep kemp three minutes ago.”