That was great as far as rousing speeches went, but Venkat didn’t want a speech. He wanted to understand. “What does that mean?”

“There is only one way to end the war,” Nayan said. “As you know, I have devoted centuries of study to the problem, and in time, it became clear to me that no measures we take in the present can stem the enmity between our peoples. It has become the story of who we are.”

“Right . . .”

“We must go to the root of the conflict—the wager that pitted Kashyapa’s wives against each other. That is where all the problems began.” Nayan’s eyes blazed gold enough to rival the sun. “We must revise the old story.”

“You want to undo the wager.” Venkat felt like someone had blown off the top of his head. The enormity of what Nayan was suggesting—the purpose behind Venkat’s entire training—was almost more than he could process. I could rewrite history. Something I made could do that.

All their talk of stories made sense now. Nayan had been preparing him for this from the beginning.

“What do you think, my son?” Nayan asked, watching him expectantly.

Venkat’s mind had gone on strike. Every time he thought he’d gained a handle on what revisioning really meant, the true scope of it fanned out before him once more. For all his imagining why Nayan had taught him dreamsmithing, he’d never even approached the reality.

Revising history. What in all the worlds?

Hoping to digest it, to come to terms with such a profound idea, Venkat rubbed his temples and limited his thoughts to the wager.

It did make a kind of sense. One rigged bet had led to so much cruelty. “I get it,” he said cautiously, “but wouldn’t messing with the past cause other problems?”

He didn’t know how to feel about that.

Then he remembered the council meeting and the garuda attack on Asha and Tanvi. Maybe there really was no other way to realize peace.

“A fair question, and one I have spent much time considering. There will always be difficulties in life, my son. Yet they need not perpetuate wholesale slaughter and endless strife between those who should be kin.” Nayan’s smile was serene. “Do you see now why I waited to tell you our true aim? If you had known sooner, you might have begun to question your capabilities.”

“Yeah.” It came out in a huffed breath. “Yeah, I do.”

“Good.” Nayan patted Venkat’s shoulder. “In my haste, I spoke too harshly. Take some boon fragments for your runners. Nourish them. Let that ease your mind.”

“Thank you,” Venkat said, though he would never be able to forget that while he considered the runners worth nourishing, Nayan didn’t. But at least Nayan had unknowingly given him exactly what he needed to help Tanvi. “I will.”

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