Page 8 of The Divine Lies We Weave

Until all she had left was her bag of supplies and the address leading her to her chance at revenge.

3

LEELA

It wasn’t until Leela neared the central markets that she reached into her bag and pulled out the scarf she’d packed. Sweeping it over the curve of her mouth and the slight jut of her nose, she blended into the bustling crowd. The drumming continued, probably streets away, but loud enough to echo throughout Leela’s entire body.

The twin moons gleamed down with their crescent smiles, bathing the city in their luminescence. Charred meat and sandalwood from stalls wafted over Leela as she kept to the busy red streets, merging into traffic. Everywhere she looked, Nihikians wore an assortment of loose pants, shirts, and floral printed skirts despite the whispering, cool night air.

Numerous arches overlooked the city streets as people danced and sang into the night. Clinks echoed in a nearby courtyard as women and children flung their ankles and wrists to the skies. Children danced with one another, gripping arms while smacking their feet onto the dirt. Their smiles were enough to stop her. To see how happy the citizens were, fully unaware of what was happening in the palace.

The women of the palace were getting married. But to the locals, it meant more money for their already wealthy city. More food and protection.

Leela steadied herself against a nearby sandstone building and ground her teeth together. She didn’t have time to feel pity for the eleven women she’d left behind. She didn’t have time to think of the money she cost the palace because she’d escaped—rather, she didn’t give a shit.

She went deeper into the city, shoving aside her regret. Men hollered from between the alleyways, trying to entice her.

“Hey, pretty, up for some fun?” one of the men hollered.

Leela clenched the H-shaped hilt in her pocket and shook her head, not stopping for anything until she came upon the Goddess River that flowed from the mountains and through the city.

She pulled out the note and took another glance to make sure she was heading in the right direction.

Thunder struck across the cloudless night sky louder than the roar of a divine Flame, causing Leela to almost drop the note into the water. She pulled her scarf higher and quickened her footsteps along the riverbank, heading toward a cluster of buildings. She sincerely hoped it wouldn’t rain. But it hadn’t stormed in the desert kingdoms ever since the Flames above died more than three centuries ago, the thunder more of an omen than the threat of an oncoming storm.

Her heart raced, fingers clenching around the crumpled note hidden in her pocket.

Leela scurried behind another building. The further she ventured, the darker the streets became. She traced the red sandstone walls of a building leading down to a darkened alley. Grabbing a nearby barrel, she hoisted herself onto the roof and looked back at the layered maze of rooftops between her and the blazing palace nestled into the mountainside.

Under the light of the moons, she tiptoed along the rooftops, hoping the people inside thought her merely a squirrel. A very loud squirrel, but better that than a monster.

Two alleyways and a turn to the left, Leela finally found her destination. A building wedged into the mountainside. Several men prowled at the periphery with glowing weapons on their belts. Leela bit the inside of her cheek, assessing their godsblades which curved into elegant crescents—almost as blue as the twin moons above. The men’s darker camouflage clothing, scarves covering their mouths, and gleaming weapons told Leela all she needed to know—they were rebels.

“Shit,” she muttered to herself.

Leela had two options: sneak in or hope the note was as good as an invitation.

A bell chimed, and Leela cursed to the skies above. She turned toward the city walls that kept away the vicious creatures from the Netherworld and served as a shield from the howling sandstorms splitting the three desert kingdoms apart.

It tugged at Leela’s heart and reminded her why she was here. Get the relic. Destroy the lustisha. Avenge her family.

She crouched and tuned in to what the rebels were saying, but the aimless chatter strung itself into a melody she couldn’t pick apart. She leaned in closer, her feet inching over. Her hand fumbled on a loose tile and it clattered to the ground, shortly followed by Leela. She tried to scream. Her cloak billowed around her, flapping like heavy wings. A thud and a face-full of red sand later, she lay face down on the ground.

Groaning, she rolled over and stared into several pairs of haunted brown eyes. She sucked in a breath. Instead, she coughed up a clump of red sand. By the time she gathered herself, there were weapons flanking her.

Be calm.

It was too late now. All she could do was play along and hope they didn’t kill her.

“What have we got here?” one of the guards asked. He leered over her as he pressed his glowing blade against her throat.

“A nobody,” Leela answered with a forced smile. “Someone who can’t land on their feet.”

“A stalker,” another guard hissed.

Sighing, Leela pulled out the note. A flash of blue whipped by her face, and Leela held steady as more weapons circled her in a ring of silver.

Leela forced a smile. “Easy, gentlemen, I have a letter.”