Still dizzy, Tanvi fumbled over to the tiny ablutions area. There, she brushed her teeth with turmeric paste. The yellow-orange color stabbed at her eyes, like she’d never really noticed it before now, but at least she didn’t have to see it once it was past her lips. Then the flavor exploded on her tongue, so intense that she gagged. “Why are you here?” she spluttered.

“I wanted to check on you,” Asha said. Even her voice—had it always been so high?—made Tanvi’s nerves screech in protest. “You missed your appointment.”

A clash of aromas suddenly stung Tanvi’s nostrils: sweet, sour, savory and all strong enough to knock her over. Shocked, she turned to find breakfast on the table. Asha had even stuck a bouquet on the windowsill.

Tanvi couldn’t stand to look at the flowers, but she dared a glance at the spread. Rose-gold apples, jewel-mangoes, jewel-figs, spiced ivory almonds, piping hot payasam—all things normally wasted on her. Food was fuel. It should have no scent, no taste. It just needed to fill her stomach.

But now, when she could almost smell the various spices on the almonds and the tang of the toothpaste still sat in her mouth, she couldn’t bear the thought of eating. The second Asha placed a loaded plate in front of her, Tanvi pushed it aside. “Why are you really here?”

“Navratri is upon us,” Asha said, “and night has fallen, when you may roam free. Perhaps we could select our outfits and venture to Prithvi for one of the mortal celebrations? Sameer assures me the dancing is something to be seen, and the sweets, oh, the sweets!”

Tanvi squinted in her direction. Asha was the one who had helped train her, the one who had brought her to Bhogavati in the first place. No one understood more than she did how little Tanvi or any of the other runners would be tempted by a scheme like that. “No.”

“Venkat suggested you—”

“No!” Even the thought of Venkat brought the panic back. If he found out about her dreams . . .

Asha frowned. “I see.”

The air between them grew as cold as the blizzard Tanvi had endured last winter in order to fill her quota, and remembering that left her even madder. Her memory of that night was smooth and glassy, a time when she didn’t make out things like colors and scents and textures—or feelings.

All she wanted was for everything to go back to the way it had been.

“I am betrothed,” Asha said, her eyes sparking gold. Tanvi immediately dropped her own stare to the floor. “My friends, my family, are of course overjoyed.”

If she was expecting an answer, Tanvi didn’t have one. It seemed weird for Asha to get engaged when she was still so hung up on this imaginary boyfriend of hers, but that was her problem.