Tanvi shook her head. “I said no, didn’t I?”

Asha sighed heavily. “Stubborn to the end.” She morphed into a blue tree snake and leaped onto Tanvi’s wrist, where she molded herself into a delicate bangle.

Whatever that meant. Tanvi didn’t really think Asha would bite her. Or at least, she didn’t think it was likely. But it was worth the risk if it meant she didn’t have to do this all alone.

She slogged up the pebbled path, each step bringing her closer to the house. Someone had drawn a chalk rangoli with daisies and lotuses in jewel tones on the driveway. Asha lifted her head to inspect the artwork, her tongue testing the air.

Tanvi could swear she’d seen something like the rangoli before. Something about the daisies. Her temples ached.

The holes in her memory were like moth bites taken out of a wool sweater, inviting in the bone-biting chill. She shouldn’t be here. She should leave.

But she’d arrived at the red door. It had a doorbell, and doorbells were for ringing. Tanvi’s finger reached out, independent of her doubting head, and pressed the button.

The door opened almost immediately, and her own face stared back at her. A million different expressions flitted over it: incredulity, relief, joy, anger. “Tanvi?”

Say it, Tanvi commanded herself. “Nitya.”

The girl with her face set down the camera she’d been holding and yanked Tanvi into a bear hug. It felt suffocating and gross—but it also felt like something Tanvi knew. Despite everything, she relaxed into it.

“Tanvi,” her twin sister breathed. “You’re alive.”

14

Venkat pushed his blanket away. The tiny mirrors embroidered along the soft, sea-toned cloth snared the first rays of Lord Surya’s chariot as it crossed the sky and flung them over him. He glimpsed his own eyes in the glass—sad and worried, with hollows beneath.

He’d tossed and turned for what little remained of the night, one ear primed for Asha’s trademark hiss. Waiting for her to let him know Tanvi was okay. I shall keep her safe, she’d promised, and he’d had to accept that. Go and rest.

Tanvi’s question about Jai ate at him as he traipsed through his suite of rooms and down the winding stairs to the carved jade tub. How did sending the dream runners back to Prithvi in a state of burnout, their hearts still silenced, actually solve the problem? Maybe Nayan could overlook that in the name of the greater goal, what with everything he had to juggle.

But having seeing runner after runner burn out, Venkat wasn’t sure anymore that he could.

He rushed through his too-hot bath, scrubbing harder than necessary, like he could slough off the guilt along with the grime. Where was Asha? Why hadn’t she returned with Tanvi yet?