I cover my mouth in an effort not to throw up. Amira was only twelve!
“Back then, I was scheming to get out of the palace,” Juhi continues. “I didn’t know when that would happen. But I knew it would. On a whim, I asked to see the prisoners alone. No one thought it strange back then. I had a reputation for trying to help whom they considered worthless causes. I was also one of Lohar’s queens, and queens had some privileges over the guards. When I reached Amira’s cell, I don’t know what came over me. I kneeled next to her and said: ‘Make sure you can run.’ I’m not even sure if she registered the words at the time.
“But the day finally came. I staged my own death and escaped the palace with the help of a few palace workers I trusted. I later found out that the head gardener, Latif, died trying to protect me.” Juhi’s voice has the flatness of someone forced to relive a nightmare far too many times to count. “I could have escaped then. Gone back to Samudra. But I remembered the bargain my sister had made with Lohar. Their magical contract would have forced her to return me to him. With home no longer an option, I felt lost, even a little hopeless. Then I recalled the girl in the labor camp, the one I begged to stay alive. It took me four days to reach the camp on foot, to knock out one of the guards and steal her uniform.
“Amira was there. Starving, but still alive. And she had Kali with her. So I took them both with me. Sneaked out into the night with no one the wiser. I heard later that the supervisor of that labor camp was transferred somewhere else and that new security measures were put in place. We were lucky to escape when we did.”
I’m silent for a long moment. “There’s one thing I don’t understand,” I say. “If Amira’s and Kali’s magic had been drained, then how can they do magic now?”
“That’s something I couldn’t quite understand myself. I’d seen girls who had been drained of magic before. Some were little more than husks: creatures without souls. But Amira wasn’t. Neither was Kali. My only guess is that whoever was assigned to drain them of magic hadn’t done a proper job of it. It took Kali over a year to regain her powers, Amira even longer—around two years.
“Prayer and meditation help in these cases, and so they meditated to the four gods, to Prophet Zaal, to Sant Javer. They practiced magic until they collapsed with exhaustion. And even if they hadn’t regained their powers, it wouldn’t have mattered to me. The day I rescued them, I vowed that we would be sisters in life and death. And that I would always protect them.”
I can’t help but feel awed by her story. “Was that how the Sisterhood was formed?”
“Yes. Amira told me that she and Kali would feel like thorns in my side. Kali countered that they were like the gold lotuses of Javeribad, the kind that bloomed in the mud. That’s how we came up with the name.”
The Sisterhood of the Golden Lotus. As badly as I want that tattoo on my palm, I know now that I am not worthy of it. Not one bit.
“I understand why Amira told Kali I haven’t suffered enough,” I say. “I haven’t. Not like that.”
“Suffering is different for different people. The gods never give you more than you can bear at a certain time in your life. Perhaps they have other tests planned for you. Other challenges that they might only reveal in the future.”
I shake my head. “That’s so arbitrary. As if we’re nothing but simply stringed puppets pulled at by the gods on a whim.”
“You sound like Amira.” Juhi laughs upon seeing the stunned look on my face. “She gave me the same argument when she came of age and became a follower of Prophet Zaal. Zaalians believe in the concept of free will in the face of magic. Amira’s determination alone helped her regain her lost magic.”
“Well, maybe the Zaalians have the right idea,” I say after a long pause. “Maybe it’s only magic—unstable and whimsical—that controls the world we live in with no care for humans or their miseries. The sky goddess didn’t come to my aid when the Sky Warriors murdered my parents. Neither did she rescue Amira and Kali. You did.”
“Perhaps the sky goddess was the one who sent me.”
“That’s maddening logic.”
“You have your beliefs; I have mine.”
It’s not really a rebuke—Juhi’s smiling—but I decide to say nothing further on the subject. I turn back to the courtyard, where, in a few hours, Uma Didi will lead the novices through the stretches that will prepare them for Yudhnatam, hands and toes gripping the dirt, faces turned up to the sun.
“Do you really think that I’m the Star Warrior?” Spoken out loud, it sounds even more foolish than it did in my head.
“Every heart holds a warrior. Some are born, some are made, while some choose to never take up arms. What you are and who you will become will be entirely up to you.”
“Do you give straight answers to anyone?”
Juhi laughs again. “Don’t blame me. You’re the one who still has to pass her test, remember?”
“I don’t know if I will be able to pass your test without Amira training me.”
“Perhaps you don’t need Amira. Perhaps you can do it on your own.” She taps my nose. “Go on now. Get some rest.”
At the end of the hallway, I turn one last time to see Juhi still there, staring up at the stars.
Over the next few days, my attempts to apologize
