Ganam stood near the dangerous edge of the triveni, where it was open to the sky and the sheer cliff face surrounding the Hirana. But he didn’t look afraid. Ostensibly he was Ashok’s guard, but his hands were clasped behind him, weaponless. His expression was grave. “There are going to be more tomorrow,” he said. “And more worshippers the day after that. The rot’s growing worse. Spreading faster than fire.” His gaze flickered over Ashok, in a way that was somehow both dismissive and respectful. “Something’s changed for the worse in Ahiranya,” Ganam went on, as if he couldn’t help himself. “And
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