An Introduction: I recently had the supreme pleasure of meeting Libba Bray on her book tour through the United States. I asked her to describe how Kartik and Gemma evolved, both as individuals and together throughout the trilogy, and she gave me an answer that warmed my heart. "At first, they fight and banter and are both so pigheaded you want to slap them. But eventually, they come to shape each other with the push and pull of their differences, and they find that they are drawn to one another." This gave me the idea of their story told through Kartik's eyes, and here is the result.
DISCLAIMER: All characters and place names are Libba Bray's. No money is being made from the publication of this story.
Here lies the faithful account of Kartik, brother to Amar, former brother of the Rakshana, of the events of the past year that have made me into the most pitiable fool in love who has ever walked this earth.
I remember when I first saw her. We were in India then, the land of my birth, the land I have always considered home. It was easier to forget for a time, when I hid myself in the folds of the Rakshana. I wanted to forget my family, that I had ever had a mother or a father or a childhood. But I think India has ever been in my heart.
And she, how long has she been there? I can scarcely remember. Now I find myself ensnared, in the middle before I even knew I'd begun.
But I remember that first meeting. I had been following Amar everywhere, just as he had been following Virginia Doyle…Mary Dowd. It was a hot, sticky day, but Amar and I still wore the heavy black cloaks of the Rakshana. We were in a dense crowd, Amar calling behind him to urge me forward every few minutes, telling me to make haste so that we might warn the priestess of Circe's presence. It seemed we pushed past thousands of people before suddenly stumbling upon a tall, elegant lady dressed in the English style, high lace collar and all. I remember thinking that she looked kind, much kinder than I would expect from one of the Order. I also remember her flaming red hair that caught the sun as she moved. My brother bumped into her purposefully and bowed in apology, muttering something that I did not quite catch. I might've seen her expression, but she had moved a little sideways then and I glimpsed her daughter.
Tall as her mother, but with a slimmer waist and broader shoulders, her equally golden-red hair pulled back from her flushed face, she caught the attention of every man in the crowd even as they rushed past, going about their daily business. I saw several of them turn their heads to look at her before hurrying onwards. And that was even without seeing her eyes, as I did at that moment. I remember thinking that they were the most startling green eyes I had ever seen, and my heart stilled for a moment. There was such strength and power in those eyes. She looked back at me, as if she could see into my soul, before looking away and rushing after her mother as Amar and I retreated into the crowd.
That same day, that black day, she and I both suffered the greatest blow that can befall any human being: the loss of a loved one. The pain of my brother's loss was almost too much to bear. When I was told by the higher powers of the Rakshana that I was to follow the priestess's daughter to England, I was almost relieved. Finally, I had a purpose. After stumbling blindly through my pain for days, weeks, I had a mission to accomplish and by all the gods, I was going to accomplish it.
The passage was not easy, and once in England, I had to find a way to blend in with the London crowds. I stowed away on a public carriage that took me as far as the nearest town to Spence Academy, Matlock. It was Fortune that led me to the band of gypsies who camped in the woods on the school grounds. They accepted me readily, taking me as one of their own, and there I awaited the arrival of the girl whose destiny was so inextricably tied to my own.
Almost from the beginning, I found myself drawn to her obvious strength of will and formidable mind. Our meeting in the chapel in the middle of the night was unfortunate, to say the least, both of us as vicious and wild as trapped animals. I was trying to intimidate her, thinking that if she feared me, it would be much easier to control her as the Rakshana wished. But I found that the strength I had perceived in those eyes of hers rose to the occasion. She would not be tamed, and part of me did not want to see her so. We left things at a standstill, and though I was angry, I was also intrigued. I found myself desperately wanting her to respect me as I was starting to respect her. But always there was my duty to the Rakshana hanging over my head, and I could not let that go so easily.
Those next few months, I watched her constantly, haunted her every step, inserted myself into her life even as I knew she did not want me there. I told myself that it was my duty to the Rakshana that so bound me to her, but I was deceived. I could not have left her even if I tried. My growing respect for her must have turned into admiration at some point, but I cannot say exactly when. Perhaps it was at her friend Ms. Cross's funeral, when I finally saw how the crushing weight of all that was placed on her shoulders took its toll. She came to me then, somehow knowing that I was there even if I had taken great care to hide myself. I did not want to bother her in her grief. But she knew, and that was when I first truly saw her for the person she was. She was not so very different from me, this strong girl with the frightening powers and strange eyes. They were tinged with sadness, and I had to stop myself from taking her into my arms to comfort her. I could only draw a thumb over her lower lip, wanting much more but knowing that it was impossible then. My heart ached for her. She had experienced loss as I had. And she struggled with her duty as I had found myself doing more and more since coming to know her. All my life, I had been devoted to the Rakshana, questioning nothing, always doing as they bid me. But suddenly there was this new power over me that I could not name. I only knew that Gemma Doyle was a part of it, and I would explore it.