BooksBarbecue
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

The spite in Karan’s voice was more than she could deal with. Not when she was so tired, and Venkat was about to punish her.

But Venkat stopped a few feet away. “Tanvi,” he said again. This time, it was an acknowledgment.

His gaze hooked onto hers, and she flinched. Something stirred in his expression, a sort of wondering, like he might be surprised, but not because she was here in the trees.

His eyes—they were so soft. They looked . . . worried? For her?

Something shy behind her ribs tickled at that, and she found herself openly looking at him. Letting her eyes rest on his. They were brown, warm. Nice. And they didn’t hurt no matter how much she looked at them, not the way all the other details she couldn’t block out did.

Tanvi could have stayed there for at least another minute, just looking.

Karan, though, moved closer, watching them intently, and she snapped back to reality. What was wrong with her? Who cared what someone’s eyes were like?

She stared, rankled, past Venkat. There was only one thing she should ever be noticing, and that was her bracelet.

Venkat smiled his smooth, professional smile. “Thanks for finding her, Karan.” He turned the smile on Tanvi, and she felt how impersonal it was, exactly as it should be. “Looks like Asha forgot to tell you we finished giving out the dream scraps last night. Sorry about that! But if you hurry, it’s not too late to go harvesting.”

She still wanted to punch Karan, and she didn’t know what to make of Venkat—why was he giving her an out when he’d seen her talking to a naga who wasn’t Asha or Nayan in public?—but she was too exhausted to care.

Fighting not to think of anything at all, Tanvi took off toward the palace.

image

12

The amrit gleamed up at Venkat, reflecting his bewildered expression in liquid as golden as the sapphire-and-emerald-studded goblet clutched in his sweaty palm.

Why in the worlds was Tanvi wandering the palace grounds? If he hadn’t been there when Karan found her . . .

Venkat scanned the remaining guests by the light of the sparklers flashing and the diyas flickering everywhere. Now that the party had migrated outside for fresh air, the others had scattered, some to the bridge, some to the aquamarine fountain flowing with amrit and the nearby carved marble benches. But aside from Karan—and Asha, who’d witnessed the whole thing from a safe distance—no one else appeared to have spotted Tanvi. Good. For his part, Karan was busy flirting with two of Asha’s friends.