‘Do not say ‘the great forger’ again!’ she screamed. Shutting her mouth, she rose and gently touched the floor with her feet. She growled through the effort as pain slowly became an ally. The Namin was right. She pictured the charred bodies of her family, and she walked. It did not matter that she did not have the strength to do it; she used her rage to walk. Taking long breaths, she waddled towards the door, her arms held out for balance. She made it to the hearth, her whole arm and side throbbing.

She gathered herself and turned. She was going to grow strong every day. Every day. She began to walk back to her bed, clenching her teeth through the pain lancing through her knees and ribs, into her back. Sobbing, cursing, groaning, whimpering, spitting, but she did not stop. Turning made her head ache. She massaged her scalp. She remembered the way Matre would plead with her to keep her hair long. Pain shot through her fragile ankles as she took another step. She remembered how Caani had applied balm to the same ankle when a wild Nora girl had pushed her off a branch. Her bloodshot eyes hurt with the effort of keeping them open.

She remembered how she had felt when she saw Meru for the first time. She remembered complaining about Craw’s lessons with Varcin. She thought of the life she had fought so hard to earn. Bheem had taken it all from her in a night.

Pain is a great forger. To and fro. To and fro.

IV

‘You said you owed me for saving your life,’ Nala said. She was able to walk with a limp now, able to eat solid food, and was working towards using her arms for something useful.

‘If that beam had fallen on me, it would have broken in two. But I do appreciate the gesture. It would have been inconvenient otherwise.’

‘You said you owe me.’

The Namin hesitated. ‘I guess I do. Wouldn’t you say that killing my donkey and using up so much of my time, along with the supply of my precious herbs, clears my debt? What do you want?’

‘I want you to teach me.’

‘Healing? Go to a collegium and get…’

‘I want you to teach me vengeance, Acharya. I pushed you out of the way of that beam, not caring about my own life! You owe me, and I am claiming it. Teach me!’

‘Acharya? Does your head still hurt?’ the Namin asked, concerned, turning her skull to examine it. ‘How can I possibly teach you vengeance?’

Nala pushed away his hands. ‘You of all people should understand, Acharya. I beg you.’

The Namin looked at her curiously. ‘And why is that?’

‘Because you swore vengeance when a Ksharjan slew your father. You destroyed entire lineages of Ksharjas across the realm in retaliation. You led an army and set fire to the world to quench your thirst for revenge. Who else would understand better?’