In his vanity, he could not resist another glance into the looking glass. When he saw he still had no reflection, no double, he roared his wrath.

The young woman waited. Unlike her brother, she had befriended patience.

He thrust a fist at the mirror’s beclouded surface, yet instead of smashing it, his hand penetrated into the world on the other side. Swift as a snake in the grass, the young woman’s double tugged him through.

His sister had no desire to witness what transpired next. She tucked the looking glass back into the drawer, securely locked it, and set off on the first in an assortment of adventures beyond counting.

The brother no longer leads, and the sister no longer follows. Instead, the full moon shines bright and cool as silver, and that is why you may sometimes note its glint as you pass a mirror at night. It is Lord Chandra in his chariot, bearing the young woman’s tidings to her heart’s reflection.

—FROM THE NAGA PURANA:

A FLORILEGIUM OF FOLKTALES,

PROPERTY OF THE OFFICIAL ROYAL

LIBRARY AT BHOGAVATI

35

The day of the wedding dawned like a dreamstone mosaic: a sky of ceruleite and greenish-blue tourmaline, gardens ranging from Panjshir emerald to pale green prehnite, with a spectrum of blossoms in the deepest garnet to the brightest lavender quartz. Lord Surya himself was a blazing topaz no amount of coin could ever buy.

It was a perfect jewel box for a perfect royal couple.

Except the bride didn’t want to marry the groom, and Venkat was locked in the workshop with Nayan, soldering together the final sections of the revisioning. He would have finished it yesterday, if he hadn’t gone to Prithvi with Tanvi and Asha instead.

Outside the mandir, he’d seen the baleful way Madhu had stared at Nitya, whom she’d believed to be Tanvi, and all his doubts dissolved. She had been arguing with Nayan, and after last night, it didn’t take much to imagine her conspiring with the garudas in revenge, orchestrating the breaches when his back was turned.

Nayan needed to know. But Venkat didn’t have the slightest notion how to bring it up. He didn’t even think he could ask where Nitya was. Or how she was.

At least, he comforted himself as he molded the last of the solder, Tanvi was safe.

It almost made the chill in Nayan’s demeanor bearable. Almost.

In all their years together, Nayan had never frozen him out like this. The charged silence between them, harsh and unforgiving, was shredding the already-unraveling gossamer threads of their relationship. It hurt more than Venkat could have expected, and it infuriated him, too. He wasn’t the only one who’d broken their trust. What about that?

“There,” he said, standing back to survey his work, “done, just in time for your wedding gift.”