But now, once again, she found herself in a prison. There were no locks, no ill will from Nivriti, but her mother had made it patent she saw Mahiya as a babe. Someone who’d be kept safe in this palace, have her wings clipped, and be shut away or ordered into silence when it came time for the adults to talk. Protected from the harsh realities of life.
Already, Mahiya could feel an oppressive sense of suffocation constricting her rib cage. “It is too late, Mother,” she whispered, and it was a decision she’d needed to make before she could carry on with her life. “I have not been a babe for a long time.”
Sadness tore through her veins at all they had lost, the time they could never reclaim. But there was also a sweet, sweet relief, the leaden guilt in her stomach at the thought of abandoning Nivriti leavened by the knowledge that to build a relationship with her mother, she’d have to leave her. It was the only way to force Nivriti to see her as a woman grown. A woman who loved a spymaster with wings of black.
Had Jason known? That had she flown away from Nivriti on the battlefield, she’d have forever wondered what her life might’ve been like with her mother? That her guilt at deserting a woman who had survived a nightmare, and who looked at Mahiya with love in her eyes, would’ve been a constant pain in her chest?
Her lips curved, because of course he had—Jason thought four steps ahead. Hope bloomed, but fingers tightening on the post, she forced herself to be rational, to remember he’d parted from her without any indication he intended to find her again. Even if he did, he couldn’t guess that she’d have come to her decision, be ready to leave only hours after arrival. Loyal as he was to Raphael, he’d most probably already left the subcontinent to make his report.
Which meant Mahiya was on her own.
Drawing in a deep breath, she stood and took stock of herself. She was a little tired from the flight to the palace, but not exhausted, as the army had moved at a slower pace to accommodate their injured brethren. Nevertheless, it would be smart to rest, regain her full strength—except that she wanted to leave now.
Even the most loving restraints were still chains that sought to hobble her.
Departing now did give her one small advantage—the secondary angelic unit, with their injured cargo, had arrived as she was being escorted to her room. Her offer of help had been declined, and from their condescending smiles, she was fairly certain it was because the guards thought she’d faint when she saw the damage, never realizing the things she’d witnessed in Neha’s court.
Everyone else who could be spared was tending to the wounded, the palace’s defenses the thinnest they would ever be. It was her best chance to slip away—because the fact was, she didn’t think her mother would simply let her go. Not when Nivriti believed her a child unable to care for herself. Mahiya’s eyes burned, and she wondered if her mother’s blindness was willful, if she tried to find the babe who had been stolen from her so very long ago.
Swallowing the wave of raw emotion, Mahiya pushed aside the curtains on the balcony doors, saw that the early morning sunlight was crystalline. She’d be spotlighted against the blue sky . . . but no one had forbidden her from taking flight. Decision made, she walked into the bathroom and washed her face, tidied her hair into a tight braid, then opened the balcony doors and stepped out.
There were any number of angels outside, and one flew toward her at once, his wings a dyed black that told her he’d been part of the assault. “Princess,” he said with the curt courtesy of someone who had far more important things on his plate. “How can I serve you?”
“I’d just like to stretch my wings a little before I rest.” Widening her eyes, she gave him a hesitant smile. “I assume it’s safe to fly in the area above and around the palace?”
As she’d wanted, he focused on the second question and didn’t bother to wonder why she’d want to stretch her wings after four hours of flight. “As safe as we can make it.” Frowning, he directed a trio of angels with a complex set of hand signals. “However, I’m certain Lady Nivriti would prefer you remain safely in your quarters.”
He was a general of some kind, she thought. There was too much authority in his tone for an underling. Instead of obeying as he clearly expected, she straightened her spine and said, “Are
Weariness washed across the general’s face, and she had to fight to keep from wincing in sympathy—she wouldn’t like to be dealing with this version of herself, either, especially after a battle that had cost him so many of his people. But if she didn’t get out now, she could be stuck in this painful purgatory for weeks, even months, smothered by a maternal love blind to the truth of the life Mahiya had survived.
“Please wait,” he said, not giving ground in the face of her outrage—which meant he wasn’t a general, but probably
Snorting at his assumption that she’d stay where she was put, she stepped off the railingless balcony, swept over the courtyard, and instead of spiraling out in wide circles, went straight up as she’d seen Jason do so many times. If she could get above the fine layer of white cloud before anyone noticed what she was doing, she could confuse and maybe distract any pursuers long enough to get away.
That pursuit came far sooner than she’d expected, a brusque voice ordering her to descend. Older and stronger as he was, she knew the general would catch her in seconds, but she grit her teeth and continued to beat her wings upward, shoulder and back muscles straining until her tendons felt as if they might snap. Let him think her a spoiled brat—it would plant the wrong idea in his mind, perhaps give her another chance later on—
A sweep of black in front of her.
“Ready to leave?” he asked when he came up to join her—as if she had gone for an afternoon visit somewhere.
She almost burst into tears at the piercing tenderness of his mental question. “Yes and yes,” she said with a shaky smile, wondering if she would ever understand this man she adored. “But I’m afraid I have acquired a problem.”
“I see that.”
Situating himself beside her rather than in front, Jason reached back and withdrew his sword, holding it casually at his side as the general reached them. The angel’s eyes snapped from Jason to Mahiya, to the quiet threat of Jason’s black sword, and he seemed to decide silence was the best policy. So they all looked politely at one another until her mother winged up to face her.
“Mahiya”—a whip of anger directed at an errant offspring—“I expect my child by my side.”
“Mother,” Mahiya said with utmost gentleness, not wishing to hurt Nivriti, but knowing she had to force her mother to see the truth if they were to ever build a relationship, “I haven’t been a child for centuries. I was never truly allowed to be one. You know that.”
In spite of the gentleness, Nivriti flinched. “I will kill her for what she did.”
Mahiya held up a hand. “No. Do not think to use me as an excuse in your war with Neha. I want no part of it.” Heart twisting, she held that gaze so familiar and so alien. “Three hundred and seven years,” she said in a whisper that held a lifetime of lost dreams and shattering pain. “That’s how long I survived—I do not want to survive any longer, Mother. I want to fly.”
A moment of utter silence before Nivriti’s eyes slammed into Jason’s. “If you do not care for her, spymaster, I will hunt you to the ends of the earth.” With that violent threat, she and her general dropped back down to the palace.
Sliding away the sword, Jason turned to her.
43
