“I can’t find a mention of Malihabar, my dear. It must be in these blocks that are so badly damaged. I’m so sorry. I was assured the Keep was to withstand the likes of fires or rains, but clearly, my masons were mistaken.”

Janurana looked back and forth between the slabs at names similar to her last. 

Mali, Malik, Malindani. That one sounded vaguely familiar to her. Mavya.

She looked, and looked again. The Maharaj stepped aside and Janurana fully poured over them. Her own confusion superseded her desire to not think about her family. Interspersed in their research were a plethora of blocks with scratches, chips, and pieces missing, which on its own was not alarming. Such changes could easily be revisions or poor record keeping, but the true oddities were the oversaturation of burn marks and water damage, none of which had faded or sunken into the porous clay as one would expect over time. Other names were damaged but not in such a way and none were fully removed with recent defacement.

Dhanur crept closer to see what had gone wrong. She dug her palm into her forehead, not only unsure of what to say to ease the distress, but also increasingly frustrated at her failure which made her head hurt more. Her one friendly suggestion had come to naught.

And despite Janurana looking like Aarushi, her seemingly providential arrival at the inn didn’t look like a sign to Dhanur anymore. The Maharaj was still only a few arms away, but remembered nothing, and she couldn’t even help the poor, unfortunate soul that showed up at her inn table. It was a complete failure, not like the heroes in the stories plastered over temple walls, and Dhanur hung her head again.

Aarushi Aabha laid a hand on Janurana’s shoulder, almost feeling her pulse through the thick fabric of her sari as they all stood in silence.

“Join me for a meal. I must offer my condolences. I can hardly imagine how lost you must be.” The Maharaj finally broke the thick air that had settled on the three of them.

Janurana was lost in thought and slipped out from under the Maharaj’s hand. She froze after two steps, realizing she had shown terrible disrespect ignoring Aarushi Aabha, but the Maharaj was simply waiting for a response as if nothing else registered. Janurana fell back into her thoughts and returned the records to the shelves. As she gingerly slotted them back to their marked positions, she used it as an excuse to consolidate her thoughts and regain her composure in peace. 

The lack of damage to other houses weighed on her. Other names had been damaged, but none so completely purged as her own. Despite everything Janurana had forgotten or even blocked out, she remembered the battle that brought low her home clearly, except the ending. She thought erasing the name of your enemy couldn’t be that important, that it was surely a mark of pride. She did happen to remember some of the victory trophies displayed in the family home.

“Thank you,” she called out as she ascended the stairs. “But I couldn’t do that, great Maharani. It’s not necessary.” She gripped the shelf as she collected her thoughts.

“If only we could interview my record keepers. But, unfortunately, my dear, they are perpetually gathering information and meeting with my hands. The best I can do…” she trailed off to a murmur and her eyes lost focus as she struggled with her next words. “Is tell you… where to go…” She placed her fingers to her temples and struggled to concentrate. “To have a good meal.” 

Janurana glanced at Dhanur, who only tightened her lips and turned away. Flexing her hands against her parasol instead of the shelves, Janurana continued to mull over the new attack on her family’s name. 

‘So, the Maharaj really didn’t know anything about this.’ She thought, remembering Dhanur’s zealous assertion that Aarushi Aabha wasn’t a gwomoni. ‘But they couldn’t have recognized me at the gate. It had been too long.’ 

Janurana’s thoughts dragged on and the Maharaj continued to stew in her catatonia. Determined not to give her stimuli and snap her to lucidity, Janurana gently took a few steps back, grasped Dhanur’s shoulder, and turned so their backs faced Aarushi Aabha. 

“Janurana, I’m so sorry,” Dhanur babbled with a hushed tone and without the energy to raise it. She was fisting her hands so hard that if she didn’t have her gloves her nails would have drawn blood. “I get now ya really didn’t wanna do this but I just wanted to help and it just ended up failing and I shouldn’t’ve forced you to come that was selfish and stupid and now you’re upset and seeing Aarushi—”

“It’s okay, calm down, please.” Janurana shook her head dismissively, her lips pressed together in thought. 

Her commanding tone brought Dhanur’s spiral to a halt, like an officer who needed their soldier to focus. It was as commanding as her outburst before but far more fitting. 

“I don’t know if you overheard but my name…” Janurana shook her head again. “My family’s name isn’t simply worn away. It’s gone. Removed.”

“What, like, carved out?”

“Exactly. There was some organic damage to other names, but not recent and not so absolutely gouged. Mine was. There’s still clay dust, no doubt it was chiseled, and purposefully.”

Dhanur processed the information. “I heard her mention fires and rain. So, I’m guessing any soot is there still? And the water hasn’t soaked into the clay?”

“I think you’d agree with me that the Maharaj doesn’t look to be in a state to order destruction of any records. And I don’t want to further alarm her.”

Dhanur peeked behind her and Janurana copied. Aarushi Aabha was shaking her head, blinking rapidly. Janurana spoke almost too quickly for Dhanur to follow. Almost.

“They tried to do this far too recently. Likely soon after I passed the walls.” Janurana peeked back again at Aarushi Aabha.

 Dhanur’s heart raced and a genuine smile tugged at her lips. If her inner voice could, it would have patted her back and said ‘I told you so’. Not only did Janurana look like Aarushi, she was sounding like the Maharaj used to as well.

Both women’s ears perked at the sound of a footstep. They faced her simultaneously and bowed. The Maharaj had awoken.

“Kumari, warrior? I’m so sorry. I’ve lost myself. Will you please join me for a meal? I’m truly beside myself with grief on your behalf.” She took a few more steps forward to reconvene with the pair.

Janurana replied in measured and confident words, “If our Maharani will allow me to speak to my escort for a moment to decide our next course of action.”

“Ah. I understand. Please.” She turned her back and the pair turned theirs, continuing in hushed whispers.

“The gwomoni did this to her.” Dhanur’s previously budding smile had fallen to a scowl bordering on venomous. “After the war and we tried to remove them.” she sighed heavily. “Couldn’t kill her. Too weird to have a young Maharaj die all of a sudden. She’s leverage too. To keep me quiet.”

As Dhanur seethed with anger, the obvious realization smacked into Janurana as she suddenly felt her seal in her pocket. “They know who I am and that I’m here. We should probably get out of their domain.”

“But they never killed me, and they’ve left us without guards. You’d be surprised by how cocky they can get.”

“And do you want to bet on those dice now that there are two obvious targets deep within their home?”

Dhanur paused, locking eyes, and then gave Janurana a gentle pat on the back to break off the conversation.

“Ahem, my Maharani.” Janurana turned and gave an extended bow as Aarushi Aabha was drawn from her waiting. “We thank you thoroughly for your assistance, but we must take our leave. My companion and I wish you well. Long may you rule.”

Dhanur copied Janurana and, with the bows, the Maharaj came to her senses and joined the conversation, slotting into the goodbyes. 

“Oh. Yes. Of course.” Aarushi shook her head as if waking up. “I bid you farewell. I hope the information you obtained was applicable to your cause.” With her own bow, she escorted them out.

As they departed, staying clearly on the side of Aarushi Aabha opposite the guards, Deiweb’s wispy form hung above the torch Dhanur had left lit outside the record hall. 

The pair hurried through the Keep, urging Aarushi Aabha when she slowed or strayed. With one eye on every guard they spotted, they did their best to appear nonchalant. Upon reaching the exit to the garden, they gave their goodbyes, bowing once again. 

Dhanur locked eyes with the woman who had been her beloved. She tried to take in a breath to quell her bubbling emotions, but she couldn’t inhale at the sight of emptiness behind Aarushi’s eyes. So different from the adventurous fire that had been before the gwomoni had taken hold of her. Aarushi did blink, however slowly, as if there was effort behind it. It wasn’t much, but Dhanur couldn’t wrench herself from them.

Janurana grabbed Dhanur’s arm to tear her away from their stare. They burst through the Keep’s gate the instant the gap was wide enough. 

They blew past a few market patrons taking their disputes up to the highest office and others seeking the Maharaj’s judgment. Each ducked out of the way, one lobbing an insult their way as a few others tripped. 

Dhanur looked back and saw Aarushi ushered back through the garden by a pair of Keep guards. She gritted her teeth, swallowed the lump in her throat, clenched the tears from her eyes, and yanked her arm back to slow Janurana down.

“Probably a little obvious we were fleeing.” Dhanur leaned in.

“Well, seeing as we are,” Janurana stated, holding up her sari’s hem from the ground by her finger tips, open parasol held between her cheek and shoulder.