The wind howled across the vast, empty wasteland, sweeping dust over Kiara's feet as she and Vikram came to a halt. The sky above them stretched endlessly, cold and merciless, offering no hint of direction.
Vikram checked the ancient map again, turning it left, then right, frustration tightening his jaw. "This… this doesn't make sense," he muttered. "According to the markings, the cursed island should be right here."
Kiara looked around desperately. There was nothing — no shadows, no ruins, no scent of life. Just a barren, lifeless stretch of land.
And every passing second felt like a nail driving deeper into her heart.
"Six hours…" she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don't have time for illusions, Vikram. Where is it? Where!?"
Her breath quickened, panic tightening around her like a noose.
Her palms heated with the surge of her power — and suddenly the stones around her trembled, then lifted into the air, suspended by the force of her desperation.
"Show yourself!" Kiara screamed into the emptiness, tears stinging her eyes. "Where is this cursed island?! I don't have time—Yuvaan doesn't have time!"
The sky remained silent for a moment… until a low, distant rumble rolled across the air.
Kiara and Vikram froze.
Vikram slowly lifted his gaze upward. "Kiara… do you hear that?"
Another rumble. Faint, but unmistakable. And it wasn't coming from the ground.
"It's… above us," Vikram breathed, astonishment widening his eyes. "The cursed island… it's not on the land."
The clouds shifted—just barely—and Kiara saw a ripple in the air, a distortion like a heatwave.
Vikram stepped closer to her, voice low with awe and fear.
"Kiara… the island is in the sky. Suspended. Invisible to the mortal eye."
Kiara's heartbeat thundered, her eyes locking onto the trembling patch of sky.
A hidden island. Floating above them. Concealed by ancient magic.
She clenched her fists.
"Good," she whispered, a fierce, trembling resolve in her voice. "Let it hide. I will still reach it.
For Yuvaan… I will tear the sky apart if I have to."
Meanwhile… inside Kaal Vansh
The torches along the cavern walls flickered violently as Taamsi stormed through the ancient corridor, her rage simmering beneath her sharp, painted eyes. The news of Yuvaan's condition had reached her — weak… dying… vulnerable.
She smiled.
A slow, poisonous smile.
"Perfect."
A rustle echoed from the shadows.
From the ceiling descended a figure — half-woman, half-spider, her eight legs clicking softly against the stone. Thick strands of web clung to her hair, and her six black eyes blinked in eerie unison.
The Spider Witch, Aranaya.
She bowed her head. "You summoned me, Taamsi."
Taamsi stepped closer, voice a silken whisper dripping with venom.
"Yes. I have a task only you can execute."
Aranaya's eyes gleamed. "A kill?"
"A very important one," Taamsi replied.
"The King who betrayed our kind… the one whose light destroyed our darkness."
Her lips curled.
"Yuvaan Pratap Singh."
At the name, Aranaya hissed, her legs scraping against stone, eager. "He's dying, they say."
"Yes," Taamsi purred, "but not dead. And I cannot allow Kiara or anyone else to save him."
She leaned closer, voice dropping to a cold whisper:
"Infiltrate the Pratap Singh mansion. Slip past their shields.
Find him.
Finish him."
Aranaya's mandibles twitched in delight. "Consider him dead."
Taamsi straightened, darkness gathering behind her like a cloak.
"And remember," she added, eyes narrowing,
"No spell protects against you.
Go."
With a piercing screech, the Spider Witch shot a silk thread to the ceiling and vanished into the shadows — heading straight for the Pratap Singh mansion… and for the dying king whose heartbeat was already running out of time.
Time is slipping. Hope is thinning. And Kiara's heart is burning.
---
The wasteland lay silent around them—too silent. The kind of silence that felt like a countdown.
Vikram stepped beside his daughter, staring up at the faint distortion in the sky where the invisible island hid. His voice was gentle, firm, carrying the weight of truth Kiara didn't want but desperately needed.
"Kiara… only you can do this."
He placed a steady hand on her shoulder.
"Only a Jishwa can summon hidden realms into sight."
Kiara wiped her trembling hands against her gown. Her throat felt tight, her heartbeat pounding against her ribs like a trapped bird.
"But how?" she whispered, breath uneven. "I don't even know if I'm doing it right—"
"You will," Vikram said calmly. "Because you must."
Kiara took a step forward.
Her heels pressed into the cracked earth.
The wind swirled around her gown.
Her wedding chain glinted against her skin, heavy with meaning.
She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and raised both hands toward the sky.
"Jai Bholenath!"
Her voice echoed across the barren land.
Silence answered.
No ripple. No flash. No tremor.
Not even a spark of magic.
Kiara's brows knit with panic. She tried again—louder, desperate.
"Jai Bholenath!"
But the sky remained still. Untouched.
The air did not bend.
The clouds did not shift.
The island did not reveal itself.
Her breaths grew shaky. She tried a third time, her voice cracking.
"Jai… Bholenath… please—"
Nothing.
Her hands fell limply to her sides.
Her knees weakened.
Her chest tightened.
Her vision blurred with tears.
"I can't—" Kiara choked, stepping back. "Papa, I can't do it. Why isn't it working? Why now… when Yuvaan needs me the most… why am I failing?"
The earth trembled faintly beneath her feet—not from magic, but from the force of her heartbreak.
Kiara dropped to her knees, tears falling silently onto the dust as the sky above her remained painfully, cruelly unchanged.
Vikram knelt beside her, pulling her into his arms while her shoulders shook.
"Shh… Kiara," he whispered, fighting his own rising fear.
"You're not failing. You're frightened. And that's human. But you're still his only hope…"
Kiara buried her face against him, voice breaking:
"He's dying, Papa… and I can't even make one spell work."
The floating island continued hiding behind its veil—
while the minutes Yuvaan had left slowly slipped away.