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Back The Dream Runners Save as PDF
Chapters (53)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. Part One
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. Part Two
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. Part Three
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. Acknowledgments
  50. About the Author
  51. Books by Shveta Thakrar
  52. Back Ad
  53. About the Publisher

Instead, she watched, her eyes stinging, as the rest of the runners repeated the cycle she’d gone through with her bracelet: utter joy that turned to bewilderment and finally to the bitter knowledge that it had all been for nothing. That ideal they’d been persuaded to give up their lives for didn’t exist.

A few of them cried. Srinivas pitched his plush bunny against the wall. “No!”

Mona approached her chapter book and flinched away. “It’s not right. Make it right!”

Others wrestled with what had to be moth-eaten memories, their eyes as glazed as doughnuts. The rest were silent.

Venkat put his arms around Tanvi and pressed close, as if he’d heard her question from earlier. “I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair.

“Me, too.” Tanvi sank gratefully into him, feeling his warmth, his solidity. She eyed the unclaimed toys he’d left by the door, a silent accusation on the part of their missing owners. “But at least they know.”

Venkat nodded before letting go, and again Tanvi felt the bite of tears in her throat. “We have to find Nitya,” she said, shaking it off. No time for these huge, seriously annoying feelings. She gestured to the wreck of her fellow runners. “Do you think we can leave them here?”

He rubbed his eyes. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“I don’t think we have a choice.”

“Yeah.” His shoulders drooped. “Too bad we can’t just ask Asha to whisk them all to Prithvi.”

Tanvi chewed the inside of her cheek. “Do you think Nitya’s okay?”

“I’m sure she is,” Venkat said bitterly. “They want me to show up, after all.” He ran his knuckles over Tanvi’s cheek, light as a damselfly’s wings. She closed her eyes. “I’d better get going. I have to change into my royal tailor–approved clothes. Nayan wants us to present our gift at noon.”

“What gift?”

“Remember I told you I can make things out of dreams?” Tanvi nodded. “We made something that Nayan says will fix everything. Tell a new story.”

“That sounds pretty vague,” she said, leaning into his touch.

“I can hear them,” Indu intoned, lying on her back while drifting in and out of what had to be a dream. Her arms and legs scissored feebly like she was an overturned bug. She opened her eyes and looked straight up at Tanvi. “They say we need to run. Now.”

“Who?” Tanvi asked. “Who says that?”

The door burst open, and guards swarmed in.

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37

It was happening. Venkat could scarcely believe it. Asha was getting married—but not until he’d debuted the secret project he’d labored over for so long.