Rick Riordan Presents by Sajni Patel

Author:Sajni Patel [Patel, Sajni]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Disney Book Group
Published: 2024-01-16T00:00:00+00:00

MANISHA SLEPT IN A TREE THAT NIGHT, SOMETHING SHE’D done with her sisters growing up. They’d pretend to be watchers of the night. If they were lucky, they got to play with leopards or tree fairies, whisper secrets to bioluminescent flowers, and weave tall tales to monkeys.

She woke up in a startle, gasping for breath, her heart racing as her nightmare dissipated—barely there fragments of the General’s attack but also, strangely, conversations with Eshani. Manisha desperately clung to her sister’s words, but they faded within seconds.

Gathering herself before she toppled off the tree limb, Manisha took in the early morning sights of the jungle. Peaceful and calm with no signs of Noni.

Her feet were covered in salve and wrapped in leaves. The bleeding had stopped, and by morning, the wounds had vanished. Either her healing abilities had miraculously sped up, or that was one incredible ointment.

Rayna fetched her for the hunt early in the morning, handing her an extra bow and a quiver of arrows. Manisha took the weapons reverently. It’d been so long, and the anticipation didn’t disappoint.

The girth and smoothness of the bowed wood was like a lifetime ago rushing to the present. It had been five years since she’d last held a weapon—kitchen knives didn’t count—but she immediately found completeness, feeling more like herself instead of the shell the temple had made her.

Pieces of Manisha had been shattered when she left her family; the shards floating around slowly faded over time. Now one piece after another floated back, reattaching to their rightful places as if they had never been blown away. This was more than a weapon, more than a means of survival and food. It was home.

“Are you all right?” Rayna asked.

A slow smile made its way across Manisha’s face. “Yes. It’s been a while since I’ve used a bow and arrow.”

“Well, I hope you remember enough to help with the hunt. But if not, that’s okay. It’s scarce sometimes.”

Manisha checked the tautness of the string and slipped the slender quiver of arrows over a shoulder. She’d expected to take to her favorite weapon with ease, tapping into muscle memory, but frustratingly, she needed a lot of practice. Her skills were wobbly at best, and a growing pressure rose inside her knowing that Rayna was watching. Maybe Rayna thought she was joking about having been a good archer once?

Heat crawled up Manisha’s neck as she quietly rebuked herself to get it together. Her palms were clammy and her arms shaky.

“Sometimes, what helps me to focus is humming my favorite song,” Rayna suggested.

Manisha could only think of the songs she’d learned as an apsara. Eloquent and soothing. But they weren’t songs of the heart. She closed her eyes, trying her hardest to think of songs from home. She struggled to remember the melodies her mother and aunts would hum while working, or the ones that Sithara belted off-key. But the naga—the men of her city—had an impeccable harmony. Papa and cousins and uncles would sing from high to low.

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