by Claire Luana
Yes, he owed Rika that much. “How is it possible, Sarnak? That she was born a world away? Have you ever heard of such a thing?”
“All things are possible. One must only have the imagination to dream bigger. And the universe has endless imagination.”
“I would not have believed it, but I see the threads that tie her to the stars. To Nua.”
Sarnak nodded sagely. “I see them too. We must help her remember the goddess she is.”
“I was hoping you would help her with that. Like you helped the rest of us remember our past lives.”
“I will have a lesson with her. But you must help her fall in love with Nua. And with you.”
“Nua, yes. But me? No. I’m a ruined man. I’ve already let one wife down. I won’t make that mistake again. She deserves better.”
“The fates may not think so.”
“The fates can go to hell.”
INTERLUDE
THE INVADING ARMY was a dark swarm in the distance, a slow-moving plague swallowing the green quilt of farmland that stretched between Yoshai and the sea. All that stood between this malignant force and her people was a wall of stone and gates of wood. They seemed painfully insufficient.
The wind ruffled Kai’s hair, bearing scents of iron and sulfur where it had once borne honeysuckle and grass. The day was warm, however, and the sun shone cheerfully. It felt like an insult to the ache in Kai’s heart. Her husband was gone—robbed from her—erased from the world without so much as a goodbye. There would be no body to mourn, no grave to visit.
”How long?” Kai asked, her eyes locked on the horizon. She stood in the upper courtyard of the palace at Yoshai. In this courtyard, she had once met the creator. She had sent two demons back through a rip in the fabric of their world—trapping them in their own dark dimension. What she would give to fight those enemies again. For those allies. At least then she had a plan. An idea. Now, she had only heartache and despair.
“A few hours at most.” Nanase stood at her side. Though her weather-worn skin was wrinkled from her years, Nanase still stood tall—her body supple and strong. She had been the headmistress of the moonburner Citadel in Kyuden when Kai had first trained. Kai had always been a little awed by fierce Nanase with her hawk’s tail of braids and her fierce reputation. That feeling had never truly gone. Kai was grateful to have her by her side.
“We’ve evacuated everyone from the land they’ll be crossing?” Kai asked.
“Everyone we could get to in time. A few thousand at least. They’re being housed in the palace, the temples, schools. Wherever we can fit them. The village of Antila was too close to the soul-eater forces for us to reach. But everyone else is within the city walls.”
“How are the preparations going?”
“We are ready to face whatever force they throw at us. Though from Koji’s description of what these creatures can do…who knows if it will be enough.”
“My mind keeps fighting with itself. I think that no creature can have the powers he described. That there’s no way our burners could be so ineffective against them. But then…”
“You believe him.”
“You heard him at the council meeting. He’s absolutely terrified of these creatures. Even if things were not as he says…he believes they are to the depth of his soul.”
“I don’t doubt Koji saw something terrible. Nothing short of a nightmare could have defeated the king. But some things we have to see for ourselves.”
“We will have the chance soon enough.”
“Your Majesty.” A cleared throat behind her interrupted their conversation.
Kai turned to find General Daarco striding across the courtyard, clad in red leather armor traced with veins of gold.
“General,” she nodded. “How are the fortifications coming?”
“We’ve reinforced the gates and have set up some nasty surprises on the approach. We have soldiers and burners stationed at all stretches of the southern wall with longbows, rocks, and burning oil. We’re ready for whatever they throw at us.”
“And messengers have been sent to Kistana and Kyuden to warn them to prepare their citizens to evacuate and shelter inside the cities?”
“They’re standing by for instructions from you.”
“How are the stores?”
“We brought everything we could inside the walls from the surrounding farms and manors. If we had had more time—”
“How long will we be able to withstand a siege?”
“With the number of people we have in the city…two months?”
Kai exchanged a glance with Nanase. “It’s not as bad as I feared,” Nanase said.
“Agreed. Thank you, General,” Kai said. “We estimate they’ll be at the gates in less than three hours. Ready the troops.”
Daarco nodded, his golden hair glinting in the sun. Then he spun and was gone, disappearing back down the stairs.
Kai crossed the courtyard and picked up Quitsu from the chair where he sat, sinking into it. Quitsu didn’t normally like to be held like a housecat, but he seemed to sense her distress and curled into her lap. Nanase sat down beside her.
“I keep thinking…” Her voice was soft. Had the army’s great shadow grown closer in the last few minutes? “What are we holding out for? Two months…two months until what? There are no reinforcements coming. If Koji’s right, we can’t defeat these creatures with burning. We don’t even know if they can be killed. Maybe it would be better to ride out to meet them. Go out in a blaze of glory and battle.”
“That’s your grief talking. Giving up before we’ve even begun the fight.” Nanase said. “Everything can be killed. We just have to figure out how.”
“I don’t have the faintest idea where to begin. We know nothing about these things. At least with the tengu…we had something to go on. Legends. Myths. History, however tangled it was. This…this feels like a foreign language.”
“We have one clue,” Nanase said.
Kai raised an eyebrow quizzically.
“The prophecy. Rika. Koji said she did something. Fought one of the creatures. Killed it.”
Kai’s heart twisted painfully. Rika. Where was her daughter? Was she dead? Was she being held captive by those monsters? Tortured and maimed…her body broken…Kai closed her eyes, shaking away the rush of worries that threatened to overwhelm her. “We don’t even know if Rika is alive.”
“Do you think your daughter could pass from this world without you knowing it? That your soul wouldn’t feel it? Truly?”
”No. A mother knows,” she whispered. She met Nanase’s sharp gaze. “What if she’s their prisoner?”
“Then it’s lucky they’re marching right to our door. We’ll get her back.”
Kai let out a grunt of laughter. She took Nanase’s sinewy hand in hers. “I’m not sure what I did to deserve such wise counsel.”
“You were a damn good queen. And friend.” They looked together over the dark stain of the approaching army, drawing strength from each other.
Nanase nodded to herself. “I feel it in my soul. Rika is the key. We just have to find her.”
CHAPTER 17
RIKA SWAM IN and out of consciousness. Strange sights and unfamiliar faces passed above her. At times, she wasn’t sure if she dreaming. Or dead. But there was movement and pain—and didn’t both mean that you were still alive? Vikal’s tanned face flashed before her, his brow knotted with worry. “Stay with me,” he mouthed, but his words were distant, as if spoken underwater.
There was darkness—an immense weight of earth and stone bearing down on her. A lavender light that surely must have been a dream. Twisting passageways. Shadowed faces peering through the gloom. Still, Vikal was with her, his arms beneath her, his touch against her temple. He was a tether holding her to this world.
Rika woke to throbbing in her side and memories raging in her mind. She had almost been killed fighting that soul-eater. She had felt so small and foolish as she’d lain there, her lifeblood leaking out into
foreign soil. Gods, she had been excited when the shadow of the soul-eaters’ army had appeared on the waters. Had thought it would mean the arrival of her powers. How naive she had been. How childish and selfish to wish for danger just to satisfy her own need to be special. To fit in. What kind of queen would she have been, to put her own needs before the lives of her people?
Hot tears leaked down the side of her face. She wouldn’t be queen anymore. She would never see Kita or Miina again. There might not even be a queen, a land to rule. She’d never see her mother again—Kai would go to her grave thinking Rika had disobeyed her and been killed. She had had everything and appreciated none of it. And now it was all gone, vanished in a flash of black and glowing green.
A light flickered to life, blooming behind her eyelids. She opened her eyes, glaring at the interloper, ready to tell them to leave her alone.
It was a girl, perhaps twelve years old. She wore a cropped blouse and loose skirt that might have once been orange or pink but were now faded to a mute tan. She was lovely, with thick, black hair and wide dark eyes, but painfully thin—her collarbones protruding from her chest. The girl spoke—asking something in the strange melodic language the soldiers had used. She approached slowly, the lantern in her hand emitting a dim lavender glow. In the light, Rika could just make out her surroundings, cast in shadow. They were in some sort of cave.
“I don’t understand,” Rika said.
The girl crossed the chamber and set the lantern on a little cleft in the rock wall. She pointed questioningly to a bowl next to it that was filled with glistening water.
Rika nodded eagerly.
The girl lifted a ladle of water to Rika’s lips, and Rika inched her way onto her elbows to drink, groaning at the pain in her side.
The girl spoke again as Rika slurped greedily.
“I wonder how long I’ve been out?” Rika asked herself, slowly trying to maneuver herself into a seated position. The blanket that had been draped over her fell, and a fierce blush rose in her cheeks. She was naked beneath. She snatched the blanket back up, tucking it under her armpits. Who had undressed her?
“Where’s Vikal?”
The girl brightened, recognizing the name. She pointed out the door, motioning for Rika to come with her.
Rika looked down at herself, clothed in only the colorful blanket. She gave the girl a questioning look, and the girl smiled, a dimple appearing on her cheek. She bolted towards the roughhewn opening to the cavern.
“Wait!” Rika called after her. “What’s your name?” She frowned. How best to communicate? She pointed at herself. “Rika.”
The girl understood immediately. She pointed at her own chest. “Tamar.”
“Nice to meet you, Tamar.” Rika said as the girl slipped into the darkness beyond.
Tamar returned quickly with a bundle of clothing and a bowl of some sort of orange mush topped with a red broth. Though the food was unlike any she had seen before, Rika’s mouth watered. The girl handed her the clothes and quickly turned her back. Rika sat up with a groan, her head swimming with the effort. She dropped her legs off the side of the bed and paused, fighting a wave of dizziness. She took a deep breath and immediately regretted it as a stab of pain shot through her side. Okay. Take it slow. Rika pawed through the pile of clothing and found underclothes, a long-fitted skirt in a pattern of purple and gold, a white buttoned shirt, and a gold sash.
After dressing, Rika sat back on the bed to eat the mush and broth—woozy after only a minute of standing. The orange stuff was sticky and sweet, the broth warming and spicy. The flavors were strange to her palate but surprisingly delicious. She ate slowly at first, not sure how her stomach would react, but quickly gained momentum. At least she wasn’t stuck somewhere with terrible food. When she had slurped the last bits of broth and washed it down with some water, Tamar clapped her hands, motioning for Rika to follow.
Outside her door, nestled against the wall, lay a neat row of green leaves covered in trinkets—flower petals, coins, candles, berries. What were they? Rika left them behind as the dim lavender light of Tamar’s lantern continued down the tunnel. She tried to hurry to catch up with Tamar but found herself as weak as a kitten, leaning against the cold stone wall for support. Rika squinted into the gloom as she slowly passed openings into other rooms, searching for inhabitants within. Was this truly the place from Vikal’s story? The labyrinth of tunnels felt ancient—she could almost imagine the great snake thrashing about beneath the mountain before breaking free, winging towards the sky.
The smooth floor of the tunnel angled up ever-so-slightly until it deposited them into the next cave. If it could even be called that. Rika’s jaw dropped as she craned her neck to take it all in. The cavern was big enough to fit half the palace at Yoshai. The ceiling soared above them, gleaming stalactites barely visible in the gloom. The walls’ cracks and crevices glowed lavender, illuminating the space in fairylike light. Rika bent down to look into Tamar’s lantern more closely, groaning at the pain in her side. The lantern was filled with a glowing lichen, or fungus of some sort. It must have been native to the cave, and the inhabitants were using it to light the space.
And the inhabitants…Rika could hardly comprehend the number of people housed here. From the tunnel where they stood, a spiderweb of wooden walkways snaked down to a veritable city of fabric tents. People chatted and cooked over fires while children chased each other through the narrow alleys between rows. A woody smell like incense mingled with the smoke from the fires and the ancient scent of the caves, forming a strange perfume that set her teeth on edge. Tamar led the way along the edge of the cave and Rika followed, not sure whether to watch her footing or the people. Vikal’s whole city must have been here.
The sounds of murmured conversation and children’s laughter died down, fading to silence. Rika looked back to the cavern that stretched below her. The people had grown still and were now staring at her and Tamar. Quiet voices like a wave sounded as Vikal’s people realized who she was. “Dewa,” they murmured. Then the murmurs rose to a buzz—calls and cries of “Dewa” echoing through the space. Rika stumbled against Tamar, edging past the girl towards the tunnel leading out of the massive cavern.
In her haste to leave the strange scene, Rika crashed into a hard body, recoiling. Vikal, she realized with relief. She fought an urge to hug him, so thankful was she for a familiar sight. “What are they saying?” she asked, turning back towards the cavern, where the people had quieted again.
“Dewa,” he said. “It means goddess.”
Rika shook her head, trying to shove down her rising panic. “I’m not their goddess. I’m nobody’s goddess.” Two dead soul-eaters did not a goddess make. Just a few short days ago, before black sails had appeared on the horizon, before her father…she might have welcomed this. But now…she felt like a fraud. She hadn’t seen Cygna again since they had arrived and she had so unceremoniously sunk their boat, destroying her only way back to Kitina. She had almost gotten herself killed battling a few thralls. If she was truly these people’s goddess, she couldn’t help but think that they were in for disappointment.
Concern was etched on Vikal’s face. He blessedly ignored her comment. “How are you feeling? Are you sure you should be out of bed?”
“I needed to see…to understand where we were. What had happened. What… What did happen?”
Vikal said a few words to Tamar, who curtsied and handed him the lantern. He reached out to ruffle her hair, but she ducked out of the way, sticking her tongue out at him before scampering off. Rika raised an eyebrow. “Does she know you?”
“She’s my niece,” Vikal said, ushering her to walk with him through the corridor. Niece? she thought, questions swimming in her mind. She and Vikal hadn’t had much time to exchange small talk, and that included personal histories. What other family members might she come across in this place?
“What do you remember?” Vikal asked. He walked slowly next to her, keeping pace with her pained shuffle. His hand hove
red behind her like he was afraid she would topple over at any moment. Though in fairness, her knees seemed to be considering that very possibility. Vikal had changed into a pair of green trousers and a white collarless shirt. The dark shadow of stubble was gone from his jaw, and he smelled fresh—faintly of eucalyptus. He looked softer than he had in his black leather. She liked this domesticated version more than his black armor-clad self.
“I remember fighting the soldiers and the leech. I was stabbed. But I killed the soul-eater, right?”
“You did.” He nodded. “You fought well, but you were injured. You were near death when we brought you here. You are lucky to be alive.” Vikal’s voice was grave, his face stony. “You were in a fevered sleep for so long. Though Sarnak said you would live… I still worried.”
“How long?”
“Three days.”
“Three days?” Rika yelped, her heart sinking. What damage had the soul-eaters done to Yoshai in three days?
“Yes. We came so close to losing you.”
Rika didn’t miss the word choice. We. Not I. She needed to remember. It didn’t matter if the hazy memory of his thumb on her cheek sent the butterflies in her stomach into a maelstrom. Vikal cared about her for one reason, and one reason only. She was a tool to free his people. And he was a tool to get her home.
“How did we get here?”
“After you fell, the forest showed us the way here. It was a close thing.”
“Thank you for saving me. Again.”
“It was you who saved me, Rika. Without you, I would never have seen this land again. My friends and family. So it is I who owe my thanks.”
“We’re even,” she said, uncomfortable with the intensity of his words.
“Do you feel strong enough to meet the other gods?” Vikal asked. “They are gathered. We’re discussing what to do about the leeches.”
Rika nodded, following Vikal down the dark tunnels dimly lit by violet light.