Gifting Fire by Alina Boyden (read my book .TXT) 📕

a hijra, you’re driven from your home as a child. You flee everything you’ve ever known or loved, and you find yourself alone in all the world.”

Hina sucked in a sharp breath, because my words had inadvertently described her present circumstances so perfectly that it must have been like a dagger to her heart.

“And it’s not until you find one of your own kind that you ever find peace or safety,” I finished, my voice softening, my eyes looking right at Hina’s, hoping she could see the promise of safety in them. All of us knew what it was like to have to flee our homes, to come to a new city, to be at the mercy of a new guru. I wanted her to know that I understood.

“Hina and her celas are fellow hijras,” I told Sikander and Arjun. “They’re family.”

“They’re strangers and foreigners, and rebels, your highness,” Sikander said, his voice slow and clear like he thought I was crazy.

“They’re my sisters. We share a life that no one else comprehends, and our families are connected to one another by bonds of loyalty and rivalry as long-standing as any political bonds held by your kind.” I gestured dismissively at the men around me. “The deras of Bikampur and Kadiro have always shared good relations.”

I glanced to Hina. “But how is it that no one ever told me you existed, let alone that you were a zahhak rider? How are you a zahhak rider? Where do you find the money to feed them? And why are you so young? Shouldn’t a nayak be our grandmothers’ age?”

Hina’s smile was a sad one. “Well, I was only the nayak of Kadiro for a few short weeks—after Javed Khorasani’s death, and before Kadiro’s fall. Before that, Ali and I lived together as mercenaries, making our living as scouts and messengers on the backs of our zahhaks.”

The mention of Kadiro’s fall reminded me that I still hadn’t asked how it had happened. “About Kadiro . . .” I began.

“We were invaded,” she whispered, her fists clutching the fine fabric of her skirt in impotent rage. “We were consolidating our hold on the city when the Mahisagaris attacked, led by their prince, Karim Shah.”

“Karim attacked you?” I gasped.

“No!” Lakshmi exclaimed, her horror written all over her face. “No, Akka, Prince Karim wouldn’t do that!”

I gritted my teeth in fury as the realizations washed over me. Karim had known that I would be taking over Zindh as its subahdar. He’d known that Javed Khorasani’s death would have left the province in shambles. He’d known that my hold would be tenuous. And he’d decided to strike at the worst possible moment, to claim my lands for his own. I felt so betrayed, and I felt like a fool for being surprised by it. Had I really believed that Karim Shah had changed? That he’d suddenly become my ally?

“That bastard is going to pay for this . . .” Arjun growled. “Does he really think we’ll just sit idly by and let him get away with it?”

“But, Akka, why would Prince Karim attack us? He’s our friend,” Lakshmi said.

Sakshi enfolded her in a tight hug, pulling her head down onto her shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go play in the garden and leave Razia to figure this out.”

“No!” Lakshmi exclaimed, wriggling free of Sakshi’s embrace. “I don’t want to play in the ugly garden! I’m not a baby!” She turned to me. “Akka, she must be lying. Prince Karim wouldn’t do that!”

I didn’t know how to tell my little sister that the prince she idolized because he was a dashing zahhak rider who was kind to her was also my rapist and a ruthless pirate. But I was too stunned by the news to come up with a suitable lie. So I just said, “Lakshmi, we’ll talk about this when I know more. For now, I need to speak with Hina. So go with Sakshi and practice your music lessons.”

“But Akka—” she protested, but I cut her off.

“Now,” I said, my tone brooking no disagreement.

She flinched a little from the harshness of it, and that made my heart hurt. I’d never been the stern disciplinarian with her, never wanted to be, but my mind was reeling, my emotions were going in ten different directions at once, and I needed a second to think.

“Come on.” Sakshi pulled Lakshmi to her feet and led her away.

It was only once they were gone that I looked back to Hina, who had been watching all of that anxiously. Did she know of my connection to Karim? She must. It wasn’t any great secret that I had helped him beat the Firangi fleet, that he had helped me defeat Javed Khorasani.

“I’m sorry for that,” I told Hina. “My little sister doesn’t know Karim the way I do.”

“So he wasn’t lying, then?” Hina asked.

“Who wasn’t lying?” I asked.

“My brother knew Karim Shah well when we were in hiding from Javed Khorasani,” she said. “We even fought for him occasionally. As I’m sure you know, he was never shy about boasting of his sexual conquests, particularly with a little wine in him . . .”

My cheeks reddened and I sucked in a breath against the memories her words brought to the forefront of my mind—memories of strong hands pinning me to a cold marble floor, of screaming into the darkness. I forced them back into the vault where I kept them, slamming that mental door shut as tightly as I could.

“I don’t know what he told you,” I whispered, my voice colder than ice, “but I will never forget, nor forgive, what Karim Shah did to me when I was a child of eleven years.”

“Forgive me for bringing up such painful memories, your highness,” Hina said, reaching forward and placing her hand over mine. She noted, as I did, the way both Sikander and Arjun drew their swords halfway out of their scabbards before they realized that she was trying to comfort me. “But that story is one of the reasons why I came