by Matt Larkin
“Then war is inevitable?” Chandi asked. And everyone in Kasusthali would die?
“War is always inevitable,” Rahu said. “It is only a matter of time.”
So everything, sending his daughter to marry the Solars, it was all a ploy for time? Deep down, she’d always known that, known it was why he’d sent her to spy on the Arun Guard. But, after so much time, somehow she’d allowed herself to believe it didn’t have to end this way. And did Ratna know she had been traded as a breeding slave, or was it more convincing to keep her ignorant? From the look on her cousin’s face, she knew now.
Her cousin had believed she could be the mother of peace. Knowing her father had never meant her to succeed would not make her failure easier.
“I’m not convinced the Solars believe Malin was responsible,” Chandi’s father said. “And they won’t act without proof. If they wanted war, they wouldn’t have allowed us here. They are fools. They don’t understand that the Moon God will see his children rule the Skyfall Isles.”
Rahu grunted. “Whether the Moon God wills or no, I will see this city burn.” Her father sputtered at her uncle’s blasphemy, but Rahu continued without pause. “The entire archipelago shall belong to me. Belong to the Moon Scions.”
“You plan war, but you’ll leave Chandi and me here?” Ratna asked.
“They may know, or at least suspect I’m a spy,” Chandi said. She couldn’t look at them, just stared at the sandalwood bed. Some Solar must have paid a fortune for the crafting of it, and now Malin had ruined it. And it would burn, too.
She had betrayed Naresh. And yet, no one came for her, no one came to burn her at dawn like she deserved.
Naresh had trusted her. Even when her uncle hadn’t—Rahu didn’t seem to care she had exposed herself as a spy. He wouldn’t have lost a tear if she had been burned alive. And she would have been, if not for Naresh. Did his letting her live mean he felt something for her, too?
“Then you must deal with the consequences of your failure,” Rahu said. She ignored her father’s sharp intake of breath and kept her gaze on the broken bedpost, tracing each grain with her eyes. “And yes, Ratna, you stay here. Ketu and I will try to negotiate peace with the Solars, but one in which we keep the Astral Temple. Kakudmi is too weak to stand up to us. The coward will cave. Now that we have the Temple again, we can prepare a much stronger offense.”
Chandi did look at her uncle then. Why would a religious monument affect their tactics? She understood her father’s outrage that the Solars had held the Temple—it was an affront to his beliefs. But Rahu had never expressed enough faith for her father’s liking. Yet he allowed Malin to assault the Temple.
“What would you have us do?” Ratna asked.
“Fulfill your wifely duties as you have, of course.”
Ratna choked on her tea.
Rahu continued. “Chandi will continue as Ratna’s handmaid. If you can keep from getting caught, that would be preferable. The information you’ve provided has helped us get this far. And helped us see just how weak the Solars have become. They’ve lost their greatest fighter. More importantly, we’ve taken the Temple. Perhaps in another year or two, maybe less, we will be ready to take this city. When Kasusthali falls, the entire Solar Empire will soon follow.”
Chandi slumped on the bed and let her head fall onto her palms.
“Now, Chandi, I have a new task for you,” her uncle said. He paused until she met his gaze. “I want to know everything about the Radiant Queen. Follow her, learn her habits, her weaknesses, her secrets. Learn how she can be manipulated. If she is the strength of the Solar Empire, we will control that strength.”
Chandi started to refuse. But when she opened her mouth, nothing came out. However much she loved Naresh, she couldn’t betray her father. She saw the concern in his eyes at the mission Rahu had set her. Concern and confidence. How could she betray that confidence? And if she did nothing, if war did come, she would have only herself to blame if anything happened to Ratna.
Swearing under her breath, she rose. And she bowed to Rahu’s wishes. As always.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Naresh was near, Malin could smell him. He slipped into the shadows of a side hall. Footsteps echoed, then two men in cerulean uniforms passed. So close Malin could have reached out and ended Naresh. A single twist of the keris knife and the Butcher’s protégé would share his fate.
Malin took a step after the Arun Guardsmen, then paused. He wanted them all dead, but even with surprise, he couldn’t fight two Guardsmen, and one was even bigger than he was. A single Sun Stride and one would escape, bring the wrath of the palace down on him.
He cursed under his breath. Chandi was right, of course. He couldn’t let Naresh see him. Yet. But he would not hide from the man for long. One day he would taste Naresh’s hot blood.
This time of evening the Arun Guard would be bound for their mess hall. With the Guard distracted, Malin could move about the palace with little concern. He continued down the hall. Chandi was the key to controlling what happened here. The girl was beautiful and talented, but she didn’t seem to understand the reality of their situation. And she was too fond of Naresh.
On instinct he slipped into another dark corner when his ears picked up more footfalls. But it wasn’t Solars who passed him by, it was a foreigner, a tall man with red-gold hair and fair skin. The foreigner didn’t look at him. But Malin had caught that scent before.
As the foreigner slipped around the corner, Malin followed, careful to keep his footfalls too silent for human hearing. The man headed into the hall leading to Kakudmi’s sitting room. An Arun Guard let the foreigner pass without challenge.
So Kakudmi accepted the foreigner into his private hall. Trusted him enough that the Guard didn’t even stop to announce him. Malin quickened his pace, almost to a run. His muscles itched to release his frustration, to sprint through these halls and out into the rain. The rain he’d not even feel because he remained in this mad city beneath the sea. He hated this city, but he had to win Chandi, had to keep an eye on events.
Now that the Astral Temple was back in Lunar hands, it fell to the Solars to decide what to do about it. Malin had already stationed many of the Macan Gadungan to protect the Temple. The Arun Guard would come for it again. He would see no repeat of Astral Shore. Ketu had ensured that Moon Scions would also be there to … Malin slowed his pace. The Astral Temple. That’s where he had smelled the foreigner before.
He turned to look back in the direction of the emperor’s hall. What in Chandra’s name had the man been doing at the Astral Temple? If he was a spy for Kakudmi, if he had been there all along, perhaps he was witness to the slaughter. Malin grit his teeth. Rahu had ordered him to leave no survivors, had not taken it well when reports of a witness surfaced.
Rahu would never aid the Macan Gadungan. He cared nothing for his creations. Malin slipped into Ketu’s chamber. The priest sat upon a straw mat, legs folded. The room smelled of strong incense that irritated Malin’s eyes and nose. He knelt beside Ketu, heedless of the man’s meditation. Let him commune with Chandra later. The moon hadn’t even risen yet. “I have done all you and Rahu asked,” Malin said. “Now aid me, priest.”
Ketu snorted but didn’t crack open his eyes.
“For two decades we served the Moon Scions. We say the strong earn the right to rule through their strength. If the Moon Scions are stronger, then so be it. But we have enough strength to deserve respect.” He’d need to know about the Stranger, but first, Malin wanted to make certain he had an ally.
Ketu snorted again. “You are animals. Now you whine at your masters to see if we’ll reward you with scraps. Be glad for what you are given, tiger.”
Malin rose and paced the room, struggling to keep from lashing out at the priest. So he had seized the Astral Temple, destroyed the Butcher, embarrassed the Solars all on Rahu’s command. Twenty years of loyal service hadn’t earned his people honor. Neither would this.
“When people are give
n less than their due, sooner or later they’ll take what’s owed, Ketu.”
“You forget yourself, tiger.” The priest still didn’t deign to open his eyes.
Malin stormed out of the chamber without further comment. Let them figure out about the foreigner on their own. The man was no concern of his. If Ketu and Rahu owed him no loyalty, he owed them no better. He had done everything for them. Had given decades of his life in service to them, feeling he owed Rahu for the power the man had given him, a power that had saved his life and given it purpose. But it was enough. Malin had delivered the Astral Temple back to the Lunars and still they treated him as nothing.
The moon would rise soon, Malin could feel it. He could leave the city through the harbor. Become the beast, run through the jungles of Yawadvipa outside Kasusthali. Run and never return. But he would not abandon his people or Chandi. He needed to find her.
It took him a few moments to catch her scent and follow it to the rooftop garden where they had once sat and talked. She sat in the same spot, legs dangling over the edge, chin on her hands. Standing motionless in shadow, he watched her, lost in her own thoughts. Since he returned to Kasusthali, she had seemed despondent.
When Chandi was born, back when Malin still thought Rahu and Ketu had all the answers, Malin had sworn to always watch over her, and Ratna as well. Since their childhood, Ratna’s exotic beauty had always drawn the comments and the eyes of admirers. But Malin was drawn to Chandi, her sense of adventure, her courage. And slowly, she became a woman, and he felt other things as well. His breath came heavy as he watched her in the moonlight.
He approached, not trying to sneak, but she still spun as though startled when he neared. “Chandi. Are you well?”
She turned back to the water and lowered her head to her hands. He knelt beside her, reached out to put his hand on her curved back, but stopped himself.
“You destroyed a nice bed earlier,” she said.
Malin cursed under his breath. She did have a habit of bringing out his temper. Was that the beast inside him, or had he always been that way? He couldn’t remember where one began and the other ended. For too long they had been one and the same. “I will help you find Aji Bidara in the morning. You’ll need me.”
Chandi sighed, but nodded.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
When Malin had offered to accompany Chandi on her efforts to spy on Aji Bidara, she didn’t know whether to be grateful or worried. His nose did make it easier to track the Radiant Queen, but Malin shouldn’t even be in the city. If Naresh found out, Chandi had little doubt what he would do.
She’d had to Glamour both herself and Malin to get them out of the palace. Everyone had taken the Macan Gadungan for an Igni porter and Chandi for a Solar servant.
The effort of the Glamour had driven her to a fainting spell by the exterior fountain. Did anyone else know this was possible—to Glamour another person? Chandi giggled when Malin woke her. A bout of euphoria held her, afterward, as they walked through the city.
The Temple District seemed the best place to start, so Chandi had sat through the morning service while Malin waited outside. Even if Aji Bidara could have picked her out among all the worshippers, the Radiant Queen had no reason to recognize Chandi. Since she didn’t know the Solar hymns, she mimed singing along until the service ended, then wended her way through the crowd.
She found Malin nearby, harassing a banana vendor. Chandi shook her head as she drifted over. With a firm tug she pulled him away from the vendor. “Find her, Malin.”
Malin put his arm around her shoulder. “We need to blend in.” He guided her around the back of the temple, where she shrugged free from his grasp.
“Your friendship with the Guardsman was quite useful,” Malin said as he stalked closer. “Maybe you shouldn’t cast it off too quickly.”
As if she had any choice in the matter. Because of Malin, because he’d murdered Empu Baradah, Chandi had lost any chance of ever winning Naresh over. The saddest part of all was this was the second of her loves the weretiger had taken from her. Chandi bit her lip and said nothing.
In the distance, the Radiant Queen, her outfit gleaming, disappeared into the Circuit to the High District. Chandi had had little reason to visit the High District before, though she knew it housed the wealthier citizens. Ratna had taken Revati on a tour once, the only time Chandi could remember seeing the place.
They lingered in the Temple District until Aji Bidara had slipped from view. Malin’s ability to track her scent meant they didn’t need to risk the Radiant Queen spotting them.
“You’re worried about Ratna,” he said as they stood waiting. Chandi acknowledged with a nod, but didn’t look at him. “Her father wouldn’t really abandon her here in war.”
“You don’t think so?” Hardly a comforting reassurance. Though she had always feared her uncle, she might once have looked up to him. Before Anusapati had returned to the Wheel of Life. Before Rahu had traded his daughter for his schemes. Now, she knew he’d sacrifice anything to accomplish his ends. Why he was so set on conquering the Isles or holding the damn Temple, she’d never know.
Malin shrugged and started down the tube. “I probably know him better than anyone but your own father. I have no love for the man, but he does care for Ratna. He was never the same after Calon died. Your father was like that, too, with Simhika.”
She didn’t answer until they had crossed into the High District. The houses here stood several stories tall—most could pass for small palaces. Crystal sculptures lined the walkways, perhaps scenes from Solar religion. “It seems like you’re not too grateful for what Rahu gave you.”
“Just because someone gives you a gift doesn’t mean they should own you forever.” He pulled ahead, and she followed, until he stopped before a large house. “She went inside.”
The front yard held a garden of crystal statues, people and animals of amazing detail. “If this is her house, Naresh must have grown up here.”
“What?”
“He’s her son.”
Malin didn’t speak for a moment. “You left that out of your report.” When he brushed her cheek with his hand she should have pulled away. Should have, but she didn’t. “He’s not good for you.” The weretiger stepped close behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders, his chin by her ear, his long hair brushing her cheek. “I’m sorry for what happened with Anusapati, but even he would have been better than a Solar.”
Maybe. Everything seemed too complicated now. A few steps forward took her from his grasp. “I need to get inside. You should return to the palace.”
Malin shrugged and slipped away. After a glance around to make sure no one was watching, Chandi drew her Gliding Blessing and ran up the wall to the roof. The center of the Radiant Queen’s roof was carved from the same glass-like crystal as the domes, letting in lots of light, and, of course, the prying eyes of those who could run up walls. That central pane looked down on an atrium open all the way to the first floor. Dozens of birds of paradise perched around the interior, contained by an almost invisible crystal barrier.
From her vantage, she could see Aji Bidara change out of her ceremonial baju into the one she wore to court. Even through the crystal pane, Chandi could make out the sunburst tattoo. So the Radiant Queen bore the Sun Brand just like the Arun Guard. Except this tattoo seemed larger, as though it might cover almost her entire body.
The Solar lifted her face up, sending Chandi scurrying backwards. Had she seen her? After a few moments she peeked over the pane again and found the Radiant Queen studying a block of crystal, hands clasped behind her back. As the Solar woman reached her hands toward the block, it began to shape and flow like liquid. Chandi pressed her hand over her mouth to stifle her gasp. Even as she watched, the crystal solidified into a perfect replica of an anoa.
With a hand on the statue, Aji Bidara vanished from view, taking the crystal anoa with her. The Sun Stride. A glance over the edge of the roof revealed Aji Bidara positioning the statue in her
back yard.
Was this how they had built Kasusthali? Sweet Chandra, if the Radiant Queen could grow a city, how could even Moon Scions stand up to her?
And then Chandi’s heart jumped into her throat as she realized this woman, this font of power, glared up at her. Even as Chandi rose, the crystal roof pane behind her turned fluid and crystal tendrils wrapped around her legs. In an instant the crystal turned solid, holding her fast.
CHAPTER FORTY
Crumpled missive in hand, Naresh hurried through the archway into the Ministry of Law. Spacious, open, painted warm colors. The holding cells were not as inviting.
“The Radiant Queen brought in a prisoner not long ago,” he told the desk clerk. “I need to see her.”
The clerk bowed deeply, and sent a servant to escort Naresh to the holding cells. The Empire didn’t incarcerate prisoners long term. Anything that couldn’t be covered with fines resulted in exile, or for the worst offenses, execution.
The guard unlocked the door to the cell, where Naresh found his mother glaring down at Chandi. The foolish girl sat in the corner by the cot, her hands bound before her, eyes vacant. His heart clenched at the look of pleading she gave him, fear and hope warring over her face. He’d hardly seen her since that day, and now to see her like this stole his words and his breath.
His mother turned to face him. The windowless cell was painted a depressing brown, highlighting her crimson baju. “We see you received report of the incident at our estate. We assure you, we are well. Leave us,” she said with a wave of her hand. “We must question this Lunar.”
“I never doubted I’d find you well, mother.” He had always found her use of the plural pretentious, even if tradition held she spoke for the Sun God as well as herself.
Naresh looked down at Chandi again, watched her lip tremble. He’d spared her once, Surya knew why, when he should have turned her in for spying. But she didn’t look like a hardened spy now. Much as he should turn and leave, he couldn’t shake from his mind the image of her screaming as they burned her alive. If he let it happen, he’d never shake it. “I’m here for her.”