Page 50 of These Godly Lies
The word tastes like a promise. Anna makes sure to seal it with a kiss.
Every time the train slows to a stop, Anna finds herself holding her breath—her ears straining and her body ready to flee. By the time the metal wheels begin turning beneath them again, her lungs burn and her chest aches.
They’re unloading cargo now—she can hear them a few cars down. She glances at the mare, finding the animal’s dark eyes staring back at her as she lays in the straw. She’s a beautiful creature and obviously well taken care of. Anna imagines she must have been sold as a broodmare for a hefty sum. Khiran insists they wait a few more stops until they reach Delhi. A city full of people makes a better hiding spot than a village. Anna only hopes the mare’s destination proves to be farther than theirs. Charming as he is, she suspects even Khiran would struggle to explain the bloody mess they’ve made.
Khiran studies her, his body slouched against the train car wall. “Do you feel different?”
It takes her a moment to understand what he’s asking. Then she remembers Cassius’ theory and the conversation that followed in theprivacy of their room. She looks down at her hands, gaze snagging on the missing piece of her. “No.”
Power wasn’t the reason she wielded the blade, but it doesn’t stop her from feeling disappointed. Bitter, even. She gave up their connection to protect themselves. Having any semblance of power would have made it all the easier to stay safe—to spare Khiran the burden she knows he shoulders alone. The only one of them with magic as a last line of defense to save them both.
She wishes, fervently, that she could lift some of that weight from him.
There is a subtle shift in his eyes, a sigh that feels a little too long, that makes her think he might feel as disappointed as she is. Still, he forces a smile and holds his arms up in invitation. Anna accepts, curling into his uninjured side and resting her head on his chest. His heartbeat is a steady rhythm against her ear.
He kisses her crown. “It’s alright,” he murmurs into her hair. “It’s not something we were counting on.”
“Still would have been nice,” she grumbles.
She can feel his huff of laughter. “I couldn’t agree more.”
Beneath them, the train starts creeping forward. Anna can feel the vibrations of the wheels on the track through the floorboards. She holds her breath as it gains momentum, releasing it once they’re closer to normal speed. Khiran’s fingers play with the ends of her hair, coiling and uncoiling a lock around his finger. She tilts her head, her cheek resting against his collar and her eyes tracing the line of his jaw. “Do you think she’ll still find us?”
The corded muscle in his throat flexes as he swallows. “Eventually.” A kiss to her forehead. “But it will be harder—take them longer. You have bought us time we didn’t have before.”
Anna wishes it felt like enough.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
He’s been doing it all wrong—living like a mortal. He’d resigned himself to hardship and monotony, had been at peace with it so long as it meant falling into her arms once night fell. It took seeing her bathed in color and laughter for him to realize that, with her, their world could still shine just as brightly.
DELHI, INDIA
FEBRUARY26TH, 1964
After spending years in a monastery, getting off the train is like stepping into another world.
The station is packed with people, shoulders touching just to get anywhere. It isn’t just the crowd that feels different, though. There’s an energy, an excitement. Despite the jostling and the permeating smell of sweat, everyone seems to be in goodspirits.
Anna catches little snippets of conversation, but there’s a set of words that seem to spring from so many lips. Beside her, two older women greet each other, hands clasped warmly. “Holi hai!” one says before the other mimics and the conversation moves on to admiring the other’s sari.
Happy Holi.
Anna keeps close to Khiran’s side, trying to shield him as much as possible from the crowd. The day of train travel had allowed the wound to heal over enough for the bleeding to cease, but she can tell by the way his face pinched getting off the train that it still pains him. “What is Holi?” The question is meant just for them, but between the trains and people she still has to raise her voice just to be heard over the noise.
He blinks, as if coming back to himself. Anna doesn’t ask where he’s been… she suspects it was somewhere between the pain in his ribs and the boxcar stained with a mix of their blood on the floorboards. “It’s a Hindu festival.”
“What does it celebrate?” she asks, her eyes roaming the crowd. “Everyone seems so happy.”
A soft breath of laughter leaves him, something she feels more than hears. It gets swallowed up in the noise. “The triumph of good over evil,” he says, the words weary. “They’ll be lighting bonfires tonight, to chase out the evil spirits.”
Anna scoffs; she can see the irony. “Let us hope it works.”
Lips twisting into a wry grin, he tips his chin in agreement. “Indeed.”
“Is there a story?” At his questioning glance, she shrugs. “You said it was a Hindu festival. Is there a story behind it?”
“There is always a story.”
