The Warrior Queen (The Hundredth Queen Book 4)

by Emily R. King

  “I have.” I rise, towering above him. “You’re done here. General Yatin will escort you out of Vanhi.”

  “You’re banishing me?” Lokesh sputters out a laugh.

  I drain all mercy from my expression, drawing upon memories of my father. “Be grateful I’m not ordering you hanged.”

  “I’m not your adversary,” he rejoins. “You’ve invited your enemy into your bed and asked us to accept her as our kindred.”

  The last of my self-control snaps. “Look around. These people are the future of the empire, and you are no longer welcome.”

  He glances at the sister warriors and their blades. “You cannot force peace.”

  “Of course I can. Removing you will be the start.” I signal at Yatin to fetch him.

  The general arrives at the dais and grabs Lokesh’s shoulder. He wrenches free and snarls, “My men will rebel against you.”

  “I’ll apprehend anyone who interferes with my wedding, and I’ll root out any informant in my midst. From this moment forward, Vanhi is under occupation. The unit of soldiers I relocated to the palace will maintain order on my behalf. A group of them will escort you out into the desert and return your swords. Leave, Lokesh, and do not come back.”

  His lips twist arrogantly, then he strides through the lines of soldiers and departs, his lackeys after him.

  Natesa lowers her khanda. “You didn’t have to banish him. I would have happily done him in.”

  I sink down onto my throne. “I have no stomach for bloodshed.”

  “You fooled me,” she says. “I almost mistook you for Tarek.”

  Eshana murmurs a sober agreement. Parisa’s attention has not left the door since Lokesh walked out.

  “Nicely done, Your Majesty,” Shyla says.

  “I should have shut him up sooner.”

  Lokesh’s lies are less valuable than pig slop, but one of his warnings holds merit. In three days, Gemi will become my first wife and I will ascend to the throne as rajah. Nothing and no one will stop our union.

  30

  KALINDA

  The sky grays as we come up to a body of water. The wind picks up, tugging at my hair like little hooks. Something strikes me as familiar. The bloody waves and deserted shoreline . . .

  “Is this the Sea of Desolation?” I ask.

  “It is.”

  I whirl on Enlil. “But we were already here.”

  “This is the way to the last obstruction.”

  I kick at a bone mixed in with the rocks. “The under realm makes no sense!”

  Our gate appears near the water. I am tempted to throw a stone at the low wall. How could the rabisu lead us in a circle? We have trekked for hours. I have no idea how long, since the sky of the under realm has no celestial powers. We have wasted so much time!

  The bloody waves lap against the short wall. Bubbles dot the liquid near the gate, growing in number. Enlil walks down to the shoreline. A sea monster slowly surfaces and stares at us with egg-size eyes. This rabisu, partially submerged, must be the largest yet. Bonelike ridges run down its twisting back and disappear underwater, the bloody sea dripping down its sleek scales.

  Enlil takes a massive chunk of meat from his satchel. “We seek passage across the next obstruction.”

  The rabisu answers in a gruff timbre, flashing its pointy teeth. “The Mount of Ruin awaits your arrival.”

  Enlil throws the rabisu his payment. It catches the hunk of meat in its jaws and dives under. Waves ripple out from its descent. I rub at my chilled forearms, wondering what other horrors lurk in the sea.

  The fire-god returns to me. “Are you prepared to climb?”

  “Climb what? There’s no—”

  He pivots me into the wind. In place of the desert we left stands a mountain. The misshapen landform is nothing like the Alpanas. Instead of a sharp apex, the peak is rounded like the end of a boot. Its ridges are not pinnacles of strength but slopes of rocky sluices. As with all else in the Void, the Mount of Ruin is a poor replica of its cousins in the mortal realm.

  I glance back at Enlil to find that the sea has vanished. We are stranded on an overhang on the mount, which is no longer far off in the distance but under our feet. My belly spirals from the sudden shift. The only constancy is the badgering wind. Gusts chisel at the slopes, sending lone pebbles down to our precipice. The rocks bounce past us and sail off the edge.

  Enlil clutches my elbow, steadying me. “Our path is ahead. Do not stray.”

  After my incident in the desert, he does not need to warn me again. Enlil locates the path, though I cannot tell how he distinguishes it from the rest of the gravelly channels. I gaze up the vertical incline. “Must we hike to the top?”

  “And down the other side.”

  “A flat path would be boring in this hole of misery,” I grouse and trudge upward.

  We have been living on the verge of injury every godsforsaken second. My exhausted nerves misfire, and I deviate slightly from Enlil’s course. The rock crumbles beneath me. I fall onto my front and skid down to the end of the overhang.

  My hand grasps the firm lip and stops my fall. My shoulder spasms from holding my weight. Enlil pulls me up. I lie on my back, my pulse bellowing at me for my clumsiness.

  Enlil helps me stand. His nearness has become a second skin. Cala wants him closer. She desires to cozy up to him and—

  I retreat from her aspirations.

  “Kalinda, are you well? Did you harm yourself?” Enlil checks me over, his frown positively dashing. Cala wishes to touch his hair. I stop her—myself—before we do.

  “Let’s keep going.” I wave him along.

  Enlil’s expression transforms from worried to charmingly perplexed. He begins up the trail once more. My muscles relax once he is out of reach. Cala, however, grinds my teeth. I direct her strength of mind into climbing this mountain. In a short time, we are single-minded in our objective.

  Do not trip.

  Do not fall.

  Keep moving.

  The atmosphere thickens the higher we hike, the air an amalgamation of foul gas. I dare not dwell on its content. We crest the final rise, my thighs quaking. Cala and I are in agreement. We are tired of traveling.

  Enlil halts just shy of the summit.

  “What is it?”

  “Shh.” He swaps his grip on his spear from walking stick to weapon.

  I hear flapping. Two ugallus soar over the peak. I learned about the vicious lion-eagles in the book I studied about the Void. Edimmu and Asag, demon siblings, ride on the ugallus’ backs.

  Enlil shifts in front of me, my god shield, and addresses the demons. “We have honored the directives of the under realm and secured passage over the Mount of Ruin. We do not wish to contend with you.”

  “Relinquish the Burner and depart,” Edimmu says, her crocodile jaws snapping.

  “I will not,” Enlil rejoins. “Kalinda and I have an agreement.”

  Asag aims his poleax at him. “You are not welcome in our realm, son of Ki.”

  Enlil speaks to me from the corner of his mouth. “Remember when I advised you to reserve your powers? Now you must call upon them.”

  He shoots a lightning bolt from his spear at the demons. The ugallus veer apart and out of the line of fire. Edimmu flicks her tongue, hurling a dusty spiral in retaliation. We duck low to the ground, and the howling wind tunnels over us. The rocks beneath us rumble, the path buckling. Asag is turning the mountain against us.

  Enlil dispatches more lightning and wallops Asag’s ugallu in the flank. The lion-eagle bellows as it plummets into the peak. Big rocks loosen and vault past us, bouncing down the mountainside.

  Edimmu dives at Enlil, her ugallu’s claws outstretched. We stoop low, and the creature misses. I summon my powers and throw a heatwave. The ugallu’s tail lights. The lion-eagle lets loose a feline screech and lunges. Its claws tear into Enlil’s shoulder. He drops his spear as he is lifted into the air.

  I hurl a fire blast at them. It falls short and dies off mi
dair.

  Enlil calls from above. “You limit yourself with your mind, Kalinda! Never hide who you are for who you think you are!”

  Am I hiding? Or at the very least doubting myself? I tested the use of my powers with my right arm once and gave up.

  Enlil swings his feet up and kicks the ugallu in the ribs. Edimmu whips her tongue at his back. He bellows, an agonized noise that rattles the stones beneath my feet.

  She hurt Enlil, Cala seethes.

  I do not think. I lift my arms, channel my powers through them both, and lob a heatwave at Edimmu. A huge blast explodes from my left hand and right wrist. I stumble back as the discharge curves off and fizzles out. I gape at the glowing base of my wrist.

  I have total access to my soul-fire?

  You have complete access to your powers, Cala answers.

  I repeat the realization aloud for Enlil. “I have my full powers!”

  Edimmu whips her tongue at him. Enlil swings out of reach, and she strikes her own mount. The ugallu shrieks and dives sideways into its injured flank.

  Lifting my arms once more, I cast three consecutive flames at the demon. They pelt her ugallu’s wings, and the screeching monster drops Enlil. He lands uphill on the gravelly slope. The stones beneath me rumble and start to slide.

  Edimmu and her injured mount plummet down the other side of the mountain. I scoop up Enlil’s spear and fight the drag of the rockslide, running uphill to meet him. We grab for each other. Our hands clasp, and the avalanche sweeps us away.

  Our momentum escalates as we summersault down into a pile, half-buried by rock. Enlil lies beneath me, jaw slack and eyes shut. Coughing on the ashy dirt that covers us both, I set aside his spear and unbury us. Asag and Edimmu are nowhere in sight.

  Enlil does not stir, yet his cuts are healing. Cala is not consoled by his recovery. Her panic compels me to tap his cheek and shout, “Wake up,” in his ear. He gradually rouses.

  “Thank the gods,” I breathe. “You scared Cala.”

  “Just Cala?” He drags me to lie on top of him. Before I connect what is happening, he covers my lips with his own.

  I go starkly still. Cala’s need for him debilitates me, paralyzing my impulse to stop this. Her joy brims over, her spirit centered upon Enlil. Through me, she has found her love.

  How I envy her. I have felt lost since I stepped down from my throne. My place in the empire, in the palace, in the Sisterhood has changed. Nothing has turned out as I wished, yet Cala is positive that where we belong is with Enlil.

  Cala touches his chin, then the nape of his neck. She tucks my curves against his hard planes. I am losing myself to him, to her.

  Enlil’s lips grow needier. His body heat flows into me, fusing Cala’s emotions to my own. Her longing for Enlil aches from every pore. Nothing in all the realms matters more to her than him.

  No, I tell her.

  She delves further. I am Enlil’s hundredth rani. I never concede.

  Enlil’s grasp slides up my waist and over my back. He whispers her name over and over. Cala shoves me far inside myself and slams the trapdoor.

  Let me out!

  I sense Enlil and her kissing. My body experiences the touches, but I cannot stop them. I want to shove him off. Wash my skin. Rinse my mouth. I continue to wail at Cala, my inner voice screaming. She disregards me and becomes more lost in Enlil. My revulsion gags me. There must be a way to escape.

  Cala’s memories splay before me, laid out for the picking. I delve through them for something that will compel her to listen. The memory of her tournament is still foremost, closest from our last connection. No, not that one. But my mere acknowledgment of the recollection wrests me to it.

  The past rushes in, pushing me off-balance. I stagger into the middle of the dusty arena. The crowd cheers Cala’s name. I am separate from her, a bystander. She wields her urumi against her competitors. One of them runs past me, khanda raised, and attacks Cala. They battle, oblivious to my company. I am an unseen onlooker like in the first flashback Enlil showed me.

  Cala dispatches her last two challengers, slashing through them without remorse. Countless women have fallen and bleed out on the arena floor. I turn away from Cala’s barbarity, repulsed, and catch sight of one of the fallen.

  Jaya.

  My lungs twist on a gasp. I stumble to my friend, passing by more slain women. They stare up lifelessly. In the present, they are very much alive. Indah. Tinley. Natesa. Each one pulverizes my soul. I identify Eshana and Parisa next. No more. Additional blank gazes bore holes through me. Shyla . . . and Asha too?

  I collapse to the blood-speckled ground. My sisters, my friends. I crawl to Jaya and bury my sobs against her.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” My apology is for breaking my promise to protect her from the Claiming. She swallows loudly. I meet her open brown eyes. “Jaya? Jaya, it’s me. Do you remember me?”

  “Kali.” Her hand finds mine and squeezes. I sputter out a coarse laugh. The squeeze is our secret way of saying I love you.

  “I’ve missed you terribly,” I say, returning her clutch. “I didn’t do this to you. I would never.”

  “Cala isn’t you,” she says. “You’re Kalinda, and Kalinda doesn’t serve herself. She serves others.”

  I press her hand to my tearstained cheek. “Please don’t leave. I cannot lose you again.”

  “You haven’t lost me. I’m waiting for you in Vanhi.” Her assertive gaze confirms what I supposed about Jala. “Free Deven and promise you’ll return.”

  Fresh tears race down my face. “Last time I made you a promise, everything went awry.”

  “You’re a rani now. A Burner. A sister warrior. You were always those things, only now everyone sees you as I do. Tarachand needs you. You have more to give.”

  “Jaya,” I cry, grabbing her close. She understands me better than anyone. I will fight for any opportunity to return her to my life, to have a life of my choosing with the people I love. “I’ll come for you. I swear.”

  She kisses my palm and slips away.

  Crying harder, I shift onto my knees and bow. Memory or not, I will not leave here without a prayer for the fallen. “Gods, bless these women’s souls to find the gate that leads to peace and everlasting light.”

  After a moment of silence, I rise. The crowd in the amphitheater disappears, as do Cala and her slain opponents. Even the arena begins to vanish. The memory is fading. I will not return to confinement. Leaning back, I harness my resolve and shout at the sky.

  “Cala! No more!”

  My fury shatters the door she locked me behind. The amphitheater disintegrates to sand in a cyclone. I ride the whirlwind up, up, up. I am myself again, my awareness acute and senses heightened. Cala and Enlil are flagrant in their affections. The violation fuels my anger against Cala.

  How could you harm Jaya? You slaughtered my friends!

  They were my challengers. They tried to come between Enlil and me. I couldn’t let them.

  I will never forget my friends’ horrible wounds, injuries inflicted upon them by my former self. Cala’s callousness and disregard for my will appall me.

  I am not this. I am not you. I heave every ounce of injustice storming through me at her, casting it as I would a heatwave. Get out of my head!

  Control slides back into me.

  “Stop.” My protest garbles against Enlil’s lips. I leverage more disgust. “Stop!”

  His lips withdraw, his arms still around me. “Cala?”

  “Stop calling me that!”

  “She is within you. You are the same.”

  “I will never be her.” I wriggle against him. “I saw her tournament. She slew my friends.”

  “They were your enemies,” he says, sensible and aggravating. “They were my wives. They challenged your throne. You won and became my hundredth rani.”

  I shove against him harder. I might as well be wrenching against bricks. “I am not yours!”

  “You deny our kinship after what you witnessed?” H
e tries to nuzzle me. I twist my head to the side. “Your previous lives exist inside your soul, layers and layers of devoted warriors. They were all mine.”

  I growl in frustration. Must I belong to a man, any man, even a god, to fulfill my measure? Is my purpose to serve as a shadow to another? The daughter, the sister, the wife . . . When am I myself without owing my life—my fate—to a man?

  I ram a finger into his chest. “You knew Deven was trapped before I came to you. All my prayers, all my pleading . . . You heard me and knew I would come for help. You left him to suffer so I would climb into your web.”

  “You came to me of your own choosing. I am not a man, Kalinda. With me, your happiness will know no bounds. As my companion, you will be free to do as you wish.”

  “I will live to suit your needs,” I retort. Cala takes offense, but I still dominate our voices.

  “Deven can make you a wife. I can crown you a goddess. He can give you a life. I can bless you with an eternal home. Pick me and you will thrive in Ekur. You will be above the anguish and misery of the world. Mortals will worship you and hail your name. I offer more than a future. I offer everlasting peace.” Enlil relaxes his iron embrace. “Is contentment not your heart’s wish?”

  “My heart’s wish doesn’t include murder.”

  His displeasure turns icy. “Would you not battle for a life with Deven?”

  “He would never ask me to.” I take off Cala’s championship medallion and thrust it at him. “I don’t like who I was with you. What Cala did for you.”

  “You spoiled child.” The fire-god’s eyes go molten. “After all I have done for you.”

  Cala cowers. I lean into the deity, weathering his feverish temper. “Will you keep your bargain?”

  “You question my honor?” he bellows.

  “I question your motives for guiding me here. Your honor is your own concern.”

  Enlil’s intense glow stings, yet I do not flinch. He replies, his tone incredulous. “Is the worth of one soul so high?”