Yati returned to her shop with Rohak in tow. The old man continued to run the front, quietly tending to a handful of customers who dared to return. Outside, a soldier stood stationed by the door—a silent reminder of the captain's presence and the weight of their situation.
Inside the shop, amidst the shadows of hanging fabrics and tightly sealed containers, Yati leaned closer to Rohak. "You will need to go to the other two cities. You won't find that symbol here in Padmapur. People here haven't fully accepted the new rule yet. If that symbol shows up here, it may cause more trouble for Sarthak. Padmapur is the first city to enter Jangal Mandala legally. There are other ways too, but most are blocked by Sarthak's men."
Rohak sat down on a wooden crate, rubbing his temples. "I need to go back to the capital in the next thirty-six hours. I already spent twelve just getting here. I haven't found anything in Padmapur. Even if you're right and I won't find it here, going through two huge cities and returning to the capital in time is nearly impossible. They will kill me. That's assuming this soldier outside and his boss don't do it first."
"Calm down," Yati said. She crouched to his level, her voice steady. "Let's narrow down your targets. What you are looking for is a royal sigil. A double-headed eagle. Think—where would you usually find royal symbols?"
Rohak blinked and tried to focus. "Okay, a royal symbol. So does it belong to Sarthak? Or someone else?"
Yati raised an eyebrow. "What's more important right now: the target, or the owner?"
"The target," he replied quietly, staring at the floor.
"Exactly. Think of where to look for royal symbols."
"Flags. Banners. Soldier armor. Weapons. Machinery. Horses maybe."
Yati gave him a firm nod. "Smart. Instead of wasting time on everything, you can now focus on what matters."
Rohak took a deep breath and pulled out the slips Yati had given him earlier. "Who will I meet at these addresses?"
"In Anantagadh, you'll find Rati. In Aghorvan, you'll meet Vati. They are my sisters. They'll take care of you. Just tell them I sent you. Tell them exactly what you told me—that you are here for last month's purchase receipts and money collection. I've given you a few receipts from last month, just enough to make the story believable."
Rohak frowned and then smirked. "Yati, Rati, and Vati? Really? Your names rhyme?"
Yati's face darkened. "The guard is right there. I can point him toward you. He will make things rhyme for you."
Rohak swallowed and lowered his eyes. "Sorry."
"You barely know me and you're making jokes. Don't you understand how serious this situation is?"
"I was just trying to lighten the mood," he mumbled. "Can I ask one more question? I promise it's not a joke."
Yati exhaled slowly, then gave a small nod.
"Are you, by any chance, related to Trishan?" Rohak asked hesitantly.
"What do you think?" she replied.
"I don't know. I thought I saw some resemblance. Never mind."
"He's my uncle," Yati said simply, returning to folding some cloth.
"I knew it!" Rohak exclaimed, then caught himself as the guard turned to glance inside. He quickly picked up a bundle and began helping Yati organize the shelves.
Time dragged. Every tick of the hourglass was heavy in Rohak's chest. Neither he nor Yati showed it, but they were both waiting—impatiently, tensely—for the captain to return and decide whether Rohak could proceed to the other cities.
Each minute spent in Padmapur cost him valuable time. From Padmapur to Aghorvan, and then Anantagadh, was a daunting trail. Each city required at least two to three hours of travel, with another five or six hours of careful observation and collection. Then the final stretch—an eight-hour journey back to Suryagadh.
Rohak couldn't travel at night. What trader collected dues and gifts at midnight? His every move needed justification.
Yati began setting up a small sleeping space for him behind the counter, arranging some rolled-up mats and old blankets. "If the captain doesn't come by sundown, you'll sleep here tonight," she said. "And leave at first light."
Rohak looked outside. The soldier remained stoic, staring at passersby, one hand on his sheathed weapon.
Rohak turned back to Yati, his voice low. "You said your sisters will help me. How will I recognize them?"
"You won't need to. They'll recognize you. If all goes well, someone will meet you before you even reach the city gate. Just stay in character. Keep the receipts ready. Stick to the story. Don't ask questions unless you're alone."
"Understood. And the sigil—the double-headed eagle. What if I don't see it?"
"Then don't lie. Don't report anything you didn't see. This isn't about impressing anyone. It's about staying alive."
Rohak nodded. "Yati... Thank you."
Yati nodded.
The sun dipped lower. The light inside the shop shifted to gold and then orange. Yati lit a small oil lamp and pulled the shutters slightly inward.
Rohak sat on the mat, still dressed, legs pulled to his chest. He looked over at the bag containing the forged receipts, the pouch of mudras, and the folded paper with the eagle symbol.
Yati swept the floor silently, then sat near the door, her eyes occasionally drifting to the soldier.
Time was slipping like sand. Rohak closed his eyes. All he had was thirty-six hours.
And the clock kept ticking.