Curse of Witch and War

by Matt Larkin

  Stilling her own trembles, Tanjung grabbed Calon and guided her back inside.

  “I can send Bintang to track them,” Calon said.

  Tanjung shook her head. “In the chaos of battle, and with the rain …” And that because Tanjung had wasted her own strength trying to save this damned city. Maybe a weretiger could track it. But she wouldn’t take that chance. “No. We’ll get it back. But we need something more powerful than a Jadian for that.”

  Calon paused at the threshold to her chambers. “What do you plan to do?”

  “Not me,” Tanjung said. “I will show you how to call it. You have lost something belonging to Rangda. But if you are very lucky, she may give you the power to retrieve it.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The crew was celebrating as the dhow returned to Bukit. At least until they saw the smoke and heard the screaming. Old smoke. Smoke of a fire already burned to cinders and ash that hovered in a cloud over the city.

  Rahu emerged from his cabin looking hardier than a phase of rest should have allowed. Hardier than a few weeks of rest should have allowed.

  “What has happened?”

  Malin glowered. “Isn’t it obvious? Bangdvipa was a ruse.” He didn’t wait for the order. He leapt from the side of the ship and ran for the cliff-side path. Trickier to run up the path in human form. But he’d need to ask questions. Easier to get answers when wearing clothes.

  A dead woman atop the path looked like her throat had been gnawed on. Malin edged around her body then hurried into the city proper.

  A palace lay in smolders, but not the Hill Palace, thank the Moon God. Lunars ran about, wailing, screaming. So many things assaulted his senses. But one word he caught repeated by the townsfolk, again and again, whispered into the night.

  Leyak.

  The subject of children’s horror stories. Spirits of the dead, come to feed on the living, to animate the corpses of the fallen. Spirits of Kahyangan, returned to Earth. It was impossible. Not even Calon could be such a fool. But then, Malin knew she was. Her sorcery had brought this down on them. And her answer—more sorcery.

  Malin stormed through the Hill Palace. He hurled Calon’s bamboo door open with such force it shattered. “What have you done?”

  The woman sat on the floor, head in her hands, while Tanjung sat in the shadows, back against the wall. Calon started to rise to meet him, her limbs trembling. Malin charged over and yanked her to her feet. “What have you unleashed, witch?”

  Calon tried to shake him off. As a Moon Scion, she should have had strength even greater than his, at least while he was in human form. He doubted she could match his rage at the moment, though. And she seemed too weak now. He dropped her and she sank back to the ground.

  “A Guardsman came here. Imagine the gall, weretiger. Snuck into my palace. Stole my book. But Tanjung, she still knew enough without it, to send something after the man. The Solars will never come here again, not after what we’ve sent them.”

  “A leyak.”

  Calon nodded.

  “Rangda take you, witch.” Malin backed away from her. Backed away from her damning smile. “You’ve unleashed the spawn of the Demon Queen on this island. Our own people are dead, a whole palace burned to the ground. My children are dead! My mates dead! All for your arrogance.”

  “Arrogance? I’ve ensured a future for my daughter, peace for my people. And I’ve done as my king and husband commanded. I’ve turned all my powers on the Solars.”

  Malin skittered away from the witch. “No.” Rahu wouldn’t have unleashed something like that. He was the War King, the Voice of the Moon God, guide and guardian of all Lunars. He would never have told the witch to call a leyak.

  Calon’s snicker faded as he backed away. Maybe her hand trembled, but she clenched it so quickly, Malin couldn’t be sure.

  “I’m going to stop this thing you’ve unleashed. And then we’re going to have a long talk, Calon. You’re not going to enjoy it.”

  Calon stared at him, her expression blank. He turned and ran from the palace and nearly collided with Bintang.

  “What of Bangdvipa?” she asked.

  Sooner or later she would learn the truth. But Bintang would become a wreck when she learned one of her children had perished. “The War King is wounded. Protect him!” Malin shoved her aside. He didn’t have time for this.

  The same rot he’d smelled permeating Bukit since Calon had begun her black magic now emanated from the leyak like a clearly marked trail. The bodies it left in its wake assured him he was heading the right way.

  Oh, the leyak would find Calon’s book, Malin had no doubt. And he would send the demon back to Rangda’s frozen underworld. And then he’d find a way to deal with the cursed book and the witches both.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “You cannot rely on Malin,” Tanjung said.

  Calon narrowed her eyes, and folded her arms over her chest.

  By now they had finally dried out from the rains Tanjung had called, and Tanjung was just managing to get her strength back. Still, she was in no shape to do much herself.

  Powerful as he was, Tanjung seriously doubted Malin could destroy a leyak. But could she afford to take that chance? Could any of them risk further offending the goddess? Tanjung liked her soul firmly lodged in her body, and in one piece.

  Simhika entered bearing a tray of hot tea. Calon’s cousin was not terribly talented as a witch, but her dedication to her family meant Tanjung had to tolerate her presence. Calon would have it no other way.

  “You think he might be able to kill the demon?” Calon asked, then took Simhika’s offered tea.

  “Kill it? No.” The spirit itself could not truly be harmed in this world, and it had possessed a corpse, so in that sense, it was already dead. “But suppose he manages to delay it. The Solars will use the opportunity to escape with your greatest weapon.”

  “Maybe we should let them,” Simhika said. “The curses we called down are what led to the deaths tonight.”

  Tanjung glowered, wishing she could strike the foolish girl. “And would you rather the Solars begin turning those curses on our people? Would you like to see our rice fields ridden with pestilence? Would you have your children laid low by malaria?”

  Simhika and Calon exchanged a look Tanjung didn’t quite understand, then both shook their heads.

  “What would you have me do?” Calon asked.

  With a sigh, Tanjung put a hand on her old friend’s shoulder. She wanted to empathize with the things Calon cared about, but they seemed so far away now. For the hundredth time, Tanjung cursed herself for wasting her strength calling down that storm. That was what her empathy had bought her—weakness. Weakness in her body born of the brief weakness in her heart.

  “Take your Macan Gadungan and go after the Solar yourself. Kill the thief, kill them all. But keep the party small—you cannot allow even other Lunars to know the truth of your source of power.”

  The rumor that the War King’s wife was a witch already had half the Lunars whispering behind her back. Give them confirmation and they might find a revolt on their hands.

  “You summoned a leyak to do all that,” Simhika complained.

  “And now Malin is interfering,” Tanjung said.

  The other woman frowned and turned to Calon. “You don’t want to do this. Think about the girls.”

  “I am thinking about them!” Calon snapped. “I always think about them. What if Tanjung’s right? Chandi barely survived her last bout with malaria. Are you willing to take the chance she’ll resist it again? What if it’s Ratna this time? I will not let the Solars win! They don’t deserve the book.”

  Tanjung concealed the smile threatening to overtake her face. It was good. Rangda had clearly begun to seep inside Calon as well. Once they got the book back, they could truly begin. Through Calon she would build the kingdom of Rangda Demon Queen. And Tanjung would be the power behind the throne. If Rahu got in the way, perhaps Calon would need to become a widow. The Lunars could
have a War Queen if need be.

  “You must hurry,” Tanjung said.

  Calon rose and nodded. “I’ll just bring Bintang. She knows her place, knows to keep her mouth shut.”

  “No,” Simhika said. “No. If you’re going to do this, I’m going too.”

  Calon opened her mouth, but Simhika cut her off.

  “You just asked me about Chandi! You think I’d let something happen to my daughter? And I’m not going to risk you either. We are two Moon Scions. We’ll watch each other’s backs. Just like we always have.”

  At Simhika’s outburst, Calon snapped her mouth shut, then she nodded. “They must have a ship, probably to the north, away from the fighting.”

  The two women looked to Tanjung, who offered them a slight bow, though the movement left her dizzy. Then they took off, slipping from the palace and racing out after the Solars.

  Tanjung worked her way out of the palace as well, slowly heading back for her own home. She needed sleep badly. She needed her strength back to help Calon through the changes to come. And that meant she needed to be doubly careful about revealing the extent of her powers.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Blood and gore splattered the rainforest where the leyak had passed, leading into the southern marshlands the werecrocodiles called home. Little chance they would help him. Spies, assassins. They had their roles, and he had his.

  The scent of putrescence drew him on and on, guiding him toward the demon in an all-too-clear trail. Fortunate, as night had grown dark and he needed to find this demon quickly.

  In the shin-high muck, he almost tripped over the body. Headless, a gaping hole where its neck should have been, as though something had ripped away the head and insides. Malin swayed, barely controlling his nausea at the sight. Stories said the head of a leyak flew free to hunt for prey at night.

  It would return to its body at dawn—only a phase away now—and might even pass for human again. He couldn’t let that happen. It had hidden its body in the swamp to keep it safe. But not safe enough. With a grimace, Malin set about dismembering the corpse.

  A shriek echoed through the marsh. The scream shredded the edges of Malin’s mind, a sound like the cries of the damned. Something smashed through the tree branches, crashing and plopping, hissing.

  The head flew above Malin, entrails hanging behind it, leaving red smears of gore on the branches it passed. Its too-wide grin revealed a mouth full of fangs. No, not a grin. Baring its teeth. Malin did the same.

  He tried to swallow the fresh rise of bile. Tried to shake it off. “Come to me, demon,” he said, hoping bravado made it into his voice.

  The thing’s eyes glowed red. It dove for him, flying faster than he ever expected. The entrails whipped his legs out from under him. Malin caught the demon’s chin with his hand as he fell, tried to push its head away. Its saliva—or venom, perhaps—dripped on his chest. Burning.

  Searing.

  Malin grunted, trying not to think about the smell or sound of skin sizzling.

  The leyak’s intestines coiled around him like a constrictor snake, squeezing the life from him. He couldn’t breathe. Ribs cracked. His vision blurred and the world swayed, until his face fell beneath the muck. Mud and water stung his eyes, filled his mouth.

  The leyak jerked itself free, shrieking again. Malin struggled to the surface, sputtering, coughing. Blood and swamp water trailed down his face.

  The leyak had squared off with a man, a Solar. The fucking thief who had started all this. The man held a book before him—one bound in dark leather and smelling foul—taunting the leyak, before tossing the book aside. The leyak’s gaze followed the book. The Solar pulled a keris sword and charged.

  The leyak spun back and lunged for the Solar, whipped its entrails about and smacked the Solar in the face. He fell. Should let the demon eat the thief.

  But that Solar had saved his life. Damn it. Malin didn’t want to owe the man a fucking thing.

  “Over here, Rangda’s monkey!” Malin shouted.

  The leyak shrieked and spun back at him. It darted for him like an arrow from a bow and it was all Malin could do to leap aside. He grabbed the leyak by the entrails as it flew past and swung it like a rope. The head collided with a tree root.

  The Solar rose, shaking himself, and trudged through the muck toward the demon.

  No time to shift. Malin leapt on the head and held it down. The demon strained beneath him, shooting knives of agony through Malin’s broken ribs. The Solar rammed his keris into the skull. The demon flopped once more, then was still.

  The man freed his sword, held it between himself and Malin. Only a boy, really, probably not even twenty.

  For a moment, Malin stared at the Solar. Then he batted the sword from the boy’s hand. “You come into our city, attack our people, steal from us. Who are you? Why should I let you live?”

  The Solar backed away. If he was Arun Guard, why not Stride away? Not a Guardsman, then. “I’m Empu Bahula, son of Empu Baradah, and potential for the Arun Guard. And I saved your life.”

  Malin glared at the boy until he took another step back. He didn’t bother saying he had just returned the favor. He owed the Solar nothing. And if this bastard hadn’t shown up and taken the book, the leyak would never have been released.

  “Wait—” the man began as Malin retrieved the book. “You can’t return that to her. You saw the demon. You think she can control Kahyangan? You think anyone can?”

  No. Clearly not. Nor should anyone. Malin stared down at the book. He didn’t know where Calon or Tanjung had found this thing or if they had made it. And it didn’t matter. Maybe he was deluding himself if he thought Calon wouldn’t have ever called the leyak without Empu Bahula’s interference. Rangda damn her, she’d probably call another as soon as he brought it back to her. The Solar was right. “Burn it.”

  “We tried. The witches did something to it. It’s why my father gave it to me to hide while he drew off pursuit. Now, please, Lunar. Please let this be the first step toward peace. Or at least the first step toward sanity.”

  Sanity. Yes. Madness had crept into Bukit. Lunacy, even. It had come from Calon. The Jadian were only the beginning. Plague, pestilence. And now demons. Or perhaps he should trace it all to Tanjung. The other witch had taught Calon her sorcery, had she not? That meant all of this tracked back to her. And what had witches ever wrought but evil? Magic was not meant for mankind. It never had been. Curses and demons and pain. And the war with the Solars was bad enough without the supernatural ravages this tome would unleash.

  He tossed the book back to Empu Bahula. “Pray to your Sun God I never see you again.”

  With a bow, the boy left.

  Malin spat, cracked his neck. Moon God help him.

  He knew the werecrocodiles watched him as he left their marsh. They watched, but didn’t speak. Perhaps they’d seen the battle. Perhaps they’d seen him spare the Solar. If so, they might not let the boy leave the marsh alive. Which wasn’t Malin’s problem.

  Calon and Tanjung were his problem.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The sun had risen, harsh and burning, when he returned to Bukit. Most of the city had calmed, gone to sleep at last. Not the Hill Palace, though. Still a flurry of activity, but no sign of Bintang.

  “The War King demands your presence,” one of Rahu’s soldiers told him.

  Well. Demands were new.

  The palace servants seemed to have found somewhere else to be. Or at least somewhere else to turn their gazes. Rahu, though, paced about the courtyard, then whirled on Malin as soon as he entered.

  “Calon and Simhika are gone.”

  Malin cracked his neck. So Rahu’s witch wife had fled, and taken Chandi’s mother with her. Did she fear Malin’s wrath? Doubtful. More likely Tanjung had drawn them into further schemes. He was going to kill that witch. All of this was her fault. She had brought witchcraft to Calon in the first place.

  “Don’t just stand there, Malin, find them!”

>   Malin jerked at Rahu’s abrupt tone. Demands indeed. Given Rahu’s injuries and the state of Bukit, he supposed he could excuse the treatment. This time. He bowed, then slipped from the courtyard. Still the servants tried to look like they weren’t watching him. Cowards. He could browbeat any of them into talking, but Calon probably didn’t tell servants anything useful.

  Tanjung would know, though, if she was still here. He ran for the old house on the edge of the city. House Nishadipathi, once powerful, now consisted of a solitary woman. A witch, living in a near-ruin.

  Malin barged in without knocking. Tanjung jolted upright, hand over her heart. Malin yanked her to her feet, pulled her face close to his. “Where are they?”

  Tanjung looked like she might form a question. His glare must have withered that idea. “They went after an Arun Guardsman who stole her book. You were so concerned about the leyak, Calon thought you might not bring it back yourself. They figured he must have a ship to the north.”

  Malin dropped her. The witch fell onto her cot with a thump. So easy to end her. End this madness. But she was a Moon Scion. Even if no one in Bukit cared for this outcast, no Macan Gadungan could turn on a child of the Moon God. That was his only purpose, to protect. Maybe he’d failed at it, but if he killed Tanjung, he would be abandoning any hope. He’d be accepting himself as an animal. And despite it all, he wasn’t ready to do that. He didn’t hide his snarl, though. “Be gone before I return, witch. If I find you on Swarnadvipa again, we will see which of us is truly the greater monster.”

  He fled the house without waiting for her answer. The look on her face told him enough.

  The wet rice fields blurred as he sped past them. Couldn’t maintain this pace for long. Still he had to find the Guardsman. The witch was mad, going after him, and Rangda take her for it. Maybe he shouldn’t have released the Solar boy. Part of him hoped the werecrocodiles would get him. Part of him hoped the boy would take the book so far away no one would ever find it.