“You did not have to come to me, to attempt to perform the rite,” he said softly, as if he had her in his snare again. With his power over her restored, his fear abated visibly. The broken light in his eyes grew. “You could have tried to perform it alone, far from this place, but you came to me because you are a weak and foolish creature after all.” He leaned forward, into the support of Kalini’s hand. “You came for him.”

“I did,” said Mehr.

“If you refuse to vow yourself to me, if you refuse to obey me, he dies too,” the Maha said, in the same slow, gentle voice. “Everything dies.”

“I am not as much a fool as you think, Maha. I know. But I also know his heart. He would rather die than remain with you. If the world is the price, well.” She swallowed. Raised her head high. “I will have his freedom, one way or another.”

The brightness of the dreamfire was growing, growing. Beneath the howl of the daiva she heard the creak and skitter of new limbs. Fear, animal and raw, crawled down her spine. She heard the prayers of the mystics rise, somewhere far below them. The Maha turned to listen. His expression was hungry, utterly starved of the power that had kept him blessed for so many years. When the light filtered over his face, his skin looked as thin as gauze.

“Without the dreamfire, you’re nothing but a man who likes to hurt people,” Mehr murmured. “I see you, Maha. I know you won’t deny me this bargain.”

Kalini was looking at the Maha too, gazing at him with eyes that drank him in, that consumed the new hollows of his face, the thinness of his skin, the turn of his thin, starved lips. Her gaze never wavered. Her mouth was slightly parted, her hand soft on the Maha’s arm.

The sound of screaming rose suddenly between the prayers. Bahren cursed, startling from his place by the door. Abhiman began to unsheathe his weapon. “What is that?” he shouted.

“Nightmares,” said Bahren. He sounded sick. “They’re here.”

“I won’t act before I see Amun’s vow broken,” Mehr said.

Abhiman wrenched Mehr to her feet with an oath. Mehr bit down on her tongue to stop herself from making a sound. She maintained eye contact with the Maha. There was nothing he could do—nothing she could hear—that would make her relent.

“Bring Amun here, Abhiman,” the Maha said. He spoke through gritted teeth. “Bahren, you stay and watch the girl.”

The Maha looked at Mehr, his fractured eyes full of fury and helplessness. “You have a bargain, Mehr.”

Abhiman was stammering, protesting, but when the Maha snarled, “Go,” he stumbled swiftly out of the room.