by Matt Larkin
Ratna snickered. Naughty boys? Sounded like him, though he’d never admitted it before. “And how is Gantangan?”
“You know my father. Big dreams, but rarely the will to act on them. He never … I mean, he and Ketu don’t …”
No. Gantangan supported Ketu, officially. They all did officially, after her uncle had ordered Malin to execute those that opposed him. Was it all necessary? Ketu said he needed to ensure unity within the Lunar Empire.
“I’m really glad you’re back, Ratna. Bukit wasn’t the same without you and Chandi.” He looked away. Should she take his hand, again? It would be easy. “I heard Tanjung is back, too.”
Ratna scowled. Well, she could guess where he’d heard that. “How much do you know about my mother?”
“I know Rahu and Calon were both powerful Moon Scions. Everyone figured you’d be a force to be reckoned with.” He hesitated then. “Oh, Ratna, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Never mind.” Ratna had long ago stopped caring her Moon Blessings were weaker than many others. Chandi’s Blessings were the strongest of their generation, by far. “What else?”
When he didn’t answer, she leaned closer. “Tell me.”
He took her hand. “She was a witch, Ratna. She called spirits of the underworld to plague Solars. Released a leyak.”
A leyak? If Rangda was real, then Ratna supposed her demon servants must be. If her mother had used one, perhaps she’d had a reason, or perhaps she’d just sought too much power. “She was a witch. The Solars killed her for it. They feared the spirits she communed with.”
Mahesa shrugged. “Can you blame them? I know she was your mother, Ratna, but the forces of Kahyangan are best left alone.”
Ratna snatched her hand free. “Really? No matter what they can give us? I have to find my daughter. Don’t you understand? She was taken from me. And if I have to call on aid from the Spirit World to find her, then I will find a way to contact Kahyangan. My mother could do it. She had a book.”
Mahesa tossed a seashell into the ocean. “I’m not sure I like where this is going.”
“I need that book, Mahesa. I need the power my mother had.”
“The power that got her killed? You want me to search for a book of secrets? Spells to contact Kahyangan? What if this book was in Kasusthali?”
The drowned city. Ratna had been one of the lucky few to survive the Igni revolt. What had Chandi been thinking when she allowed them to crack the domes?
“I doubt they’d have kept it in their capital city,” she said. “Pious, bigoted curates would call it blasphemous.”
“Then they probably destroyed it. Give it up, Ratna. We’ll find Revati the old-fashioned way. We don’t need spirits and witchcraft.”
Could he? She’d tried everyone else, from Macan Gadungan to pirates, even the damn Solars. “You think you can find her?”
Mahesa grinned again. “You’re looking at the winner of the Barisan Race. Fastest climber on Swarnadvipa. Maybe the fastest swimmer too, if you don’t count the werecrocodiles. Which I don’t.”
And he could fight. That would help. Ratna had never been very good at Silat.
But then, where would he look? Without the knowledge from the spirits, how could she find where Kala had taken Revati? No, she had no choice, and if Mahesa was the only one that could help her, then so be it.
Ratna pressed her hands to his chest. “Please, Mahesa. I know you mean the best, but we need that book. I’ve spent a year trying to find her. The trail is cold, and without Kahyangan, without the spirits, we don’t even know where to start. I need that book. I need you. You’re the only one I can count on.”
Mahesa blew out a breath, then took her hands in his own. He opened his mouth to say something, but just nodded. His hands shook a little.
“Of course.”
CHAPTER EIGHTY-TWO
Rumor said Ketu was leaving, and Malin could guess where.
He stormed through the palace, grabbed a slave by the baju. “Where’s Ketu?”
The slave babbled, shaking his head. Malin dropped the man. He flung open the door to the priest’s chamber—once Rahu’s chamber—but no one lurked within.
Once, silk wall hangings from Tianxia had adorned Rahu’s chambers. Ketu had torn them down, replacing them with simple wooden carvings.
The priest had kept Rahu’s tea table as a desk, though. Papers covered it. Malin knelt beside the low table and grabbed a handful. Reports of faltering Solar resistance in the Outer Isles. Ships going to Puradvipa. And new discoveries made at the Astral Temple.
Malin clenched the paper. He’d seen more than enough discoveries there. Ketu had used the Temple to create an eclipse. Threw all the seas into chaos, risked the wrath of the Moon God, to destroy the Solars. Everything always came back to that damn temple.
Footsteps behind him. Malin stuffed the papers back under the pile and rose as Ketu entered.
“What do you want, tiger? You have no business in my personal chambers.”
Malin advanced on the priest. “You’re going after them, aren’t you? You’re going to risk your daughter’s life to get at Naresh?” If Ketu planned to leave so soon, Malin could be damn sure it was because of the Guardsman.
Ketu grabbed Malin and dragged him from the room, then out into the courtyard. The priest glared at the slaves until they scampered out of earshot. “I’m going to see this thing finished. We can’t have the Solars haunting us from the shadows. We need to be certain the Solar Empire is gone forever. And the best way to do that is to destroy the Arun Guard.”
Malin stepped close to Ketu’s ear. “I handed you this throne because your daughter loves you. Because she made me promise to.” Even knowing he would regret it. “Now you turn on her.”
“You serve me, tiger,” Ketu said, grabbing Malin by the hair, “because I am a descendant of Chandra. I am the War King. I am a Moon Scion.” He flung Malin to the ground. “Bow before me.”
Malin remained kneeling. Pride be damned. Other things mattered more. “Chandi promised me that the Macan Gadungan would—”
“Chandi betrayed me!” Ketu clenched his fists beside his face. For a moment, Malin though the priest might attack him. “Do not speak her name, tiger. Her promises mean nothing.”
Damn him. Malin rose. “Then make your own promises. The Macan Gadungan have served the Lunar Empire loyally. All the Jadian have served. You want to be Lunar Emperor? Free us. Make us the equals of Moon Scions, instead of servants.”
“The werebeasts are animals, tiger. Your place is to serve. I could no more make you our equals than I could grow wings and fly. Chandra’s blood makes us superior by nature.”
Malin had to bite his tongue to keep from throwing the lie back in Ketu’s face. Chandra’s blood didn’t make Moon Scions. Amrita made Moon Scions. Drugs given to the young so they could call themselves gods. They told the next generation the truth only when they had children of their own. One dose, given to a child—and only one, for the addiction it created was more powerful than even Rahu could withstand. Blood of the Moon God. Just a fantasy to keep the population in line.
“Protect Ratna while I’m away, and obey her, Macan Gadungan. She’s my heir now.” Ketu’s face trembled and he looked away. “I’ll hear of no other.”
Malin spat as soon as Ketu walked away. Rangda take the man. Maybe Chandi wouldn’t even care if he killed Ketu.
No. He was her father. He could see her face, were he to kill the man. Not a pleasant image.
The tiger in him snarled. Or maybe Malin snarled. He couldn’t say. Malin stormed out of the Hill Palace, scowling at any servant that got in his way.
Ketu leaving to destroy Naresh. But he couldn’t get to him without going through Chandi. And the man didn’t care. His own daughter.
So he’d leave Ratna in charge. But the blind, selfish girl saw nothing but her missing daughter. She’d somehow convinced Mahesa to disappear after a day. Probably sent the boy to search for a child he’d never find.
The Macan Gadungan had given Ketu his throne. Still he made them slaves. Still. But Malin had promised Chandi to support the man.
Malin shut the door. Then he stomped on the tea table. Smashed it to bits. Kicked the bits against the wall.
The tiger spirit clawed at his mind, roared in defiance of Ketu and Ratna and Chandi. None of them appreciated the things he’d done for them. Years and years of service to House Soma. His muscles twitched involuntarily. The spirit demanded release, but could not find it with the sun up.
How could Chandi have married Naresh? No answer came, no matter how often he asked that question. The Solar shared none of her values. Their future was doomed. But she’d made her choice. It wasn’t his problem.
Malin fell to his knees. Not his problem. Chandi had made her choices. Ratna wouldn’t listen. The Macan Gadungan needed him. No, all the Jadian needed him.
He yanked up the loose floorboards. Underneath, now covered in dust, rested the vial—the Amrita he’d demanded, begged Chandi to give him. Chill to the touch, though perhaps it was only in his mind.
This had made Rahu a lunatic. It wasn’t a gift—it was a lie the Moon Scions used to place themselves above others. That’s why he hadn’t taken it yet. He didn’t want to be like them. That’s all.
But Chandi was gone. And Ketu would never see reason. Ratna was going down the same path as her cursed mother. And Malin couldn’t save any of them.
But he could still save the Jadian.
He uncorked the vial. The liquid within glittered like moonlight, but smelled like milk, with a hint of jasmine.
Perhaps he’d held out hope Ratna would be a bridge between him and Ketu. That hope was gone.
And without it, his people would never be freed. Forever enslaved.
Malin drained the vial in one swig. It even tasted like sweet milk. He tossed the empty flask back in the hole.
As he tried to rise, warmth began to spread from his stomach. His limbs wobbled and he collapsed. Spasms wracked his body. Even the tiger’s voice grew distant.
His head might have smacked the floor. He couldn’t feel it.
Fire surged through his veins. Every beat of his heart sent the heat through him. He clenched his eyes against the beautiful pain.
Eyes closed, still he saw something. Fire filled the sky. Erupted from within. Icy mist crept over him, swept down from frozen mountains. The mist of the dead. Rangda’s underworld.
There were things moving in front of his eyes. Things crawling under his skin. They saw him. Reached for him. Tried to enter him. He’d felt that before. Felt it when Rahu put the tiger spirit inside him.
Malin roared. Flailed at anything, everything, nothing.
His heart beat again. There were stars, millions of stars. And the moon. Glorious, terrible. Watching him, unblinking.
Chandra? Did the Moon God see all he had done? Let him. Let him judge Malin. The Moon Scions had no right to judge any longer.
It called to him. The moon pulled his mind and soul, and even the tiger within. Claimed him. Or maybe, it was all in his head.
Slowly, the things watching him receded. But something remained awakened within. Some awareness of the universe.
Malin rose. His throat was raw. His muscles trembled. But he had never been more alive.
CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE
Ratna stood in the doorway of Ketu’s chamber, watching her uncle meditate. Eyes closed, hands on his knees, he was still as a corpse. He wore the same baju her father had once worn, black, embroidered with gold songket. Ratna didn’t remember so much of her mother, but she thought Calon had given her father the first baju like that. Afterwards, after she died, her father had always worn that style.
And why did Ketu have to wear it? Easy to say he wanted to honor her lost father, but then, it was easy to think he wanted to replace him, too.
“You summoned me?”
Ketu breathed deeply before opening his eyes. “Ratna, what do you think of the other Houses?”
Ratna shrugged. Once, she might have cared about the petty Moon Scion rivalries. That time had passed. “They follow our House. A few others are strong enough to challenge us, but they wouldn’t dare.”
Ketu grunted. “Are you so certain? I must go to Suladvipa. It’s time our Igni allies proved themselves. And what will the other lords do while I’m away?”
“So send Malin instead.” The damn tiger had done little enough to help her find Revati. Let him deal with the Ignis. The former Solar slaves would be bad enough, if they hadn’t decided to drown all of Kasusthali. Murder on that scale surpassed even the worst the Solars had ever done. Under the guise of aiding Lunars, they had wrought terrible vengeance and destroyed an entire people. Perhaps the Solars had been Ratna’s enemies, though so much time among them obscured it, like mountain mist. Because her father had started a war over a building, because that war had sent her to the Solars.
And in the end, wouldn’t she have been happier had they kept the Temple, shared it? Her parents would live, she’d have married Mahesa, and Revati would be his daughter. Still with her now.
Ratna rubbed her face. Breathe. She could feel the pain in her chest creeping over her again. Breathe.
Ketu rose and walked over to look down into her eyes. “Are you certain we can still fully trust the Macan Gadungan?”
Ratna started. Why wouldn’t they?
Ketu shook his head. “Well, they’ve been there for your entire life, I suppose. Still, I cannot send Malin. Some things I should attend to myself. And I may need to go to Puradvipa after, anyway.”
“Why go back to the Astral Temple? You have plenty of other priests to care for it.”
Her uncle patted her cheek. “So many years we fought for sole control of that place. It’s time I paid my proper respects there. I’m leaving you in charge in my absence. Watch over the other Houses, keep them in line. Then when I get back, maybe we can see about a new marriage for you. You are heir to the Empire, after all.”
Ratna embraced her uncle, then he left. So he thought her clever enough to manage his affairs, but still enough a fool she wouldn’t know he was holding back. Pay his respects at the Temple? Please. He’d been there, before. Well, Kakudmi had thought her a fool, too. But she was here, and he was … gone.
Whatever secrets the Astral Temple held could wait.
She wound her way through the highlands, past the theater, and up to House Nishadipathi’s decrepit palace. The old door creaked like it would fall from its hinges as Ratna pushed it open. Why didn’t Tanjung get the damn thing replaced? Had her House really fallen on such hard times?
The woman herself sat on a mat on the floor, chewing some black herb. The thing smelled of brine and moss and Ratna didn’t want to know what else, and Tanjung had been spitting the foul juices into a bowl. She looked up at Ratna with glazed-over eyes, but didn’t seem to see her.
“It’s time,” Ratna said. “Ketu’s finally gone.”
It was time the full resources of the Lunar Empire turned to finding Revati. And, in truth, she had a responsibility to her father’s people. To uphold his legacy. Ketu had done a poor job of that, from what she could see. The priest cared only for destroying the Solars, not even pausing to consider the fate of the Lunars.
Tanjung spit out the last of the herb. Black juices sloshed in the bowl and dribbled down her chin. “The spirits say the child’s soul never passed the bridge of Kahyangan.”
Ratna knelt beside the witch. “You thought Revati was dead?”
“I wanted to be able to assure you she wasn’t.”
She had to press her hands into her knees to keep them from trembling. “I didn’t need assurances. I’m her mother. I know she’s alive. My little bidadari …”
“Your mother called you that.”
Something caught in her
throat, and she had to rise and turn away. Now was not the time. “I wasn’t sure if I’d imagined it.”
Tanjung smiled, then rose, and guided Ratna back out into the rain with a gentle push. The witch stared off into the distance before she spoke. “Your mother and her cousin Simhika were once the pride of House Arang, in the far northern highlands. At least until it became known Calon was a witch. Then, the Lord of Arang couldn’t have her married off to Rahu fast enough.”
Ratna’s sandals caught mud and rocks as she led Tanjung back to Bukit. She hated coming up here in the rainy season. “The same reason you were chased away. Why do people fear what you do so much?”
It took a moment for Ratna to realize Tanjung no longer followed her. She turned to look at the witch, who stood watching her with her head cocked. “Do not make the mistake of thinking Kahyangan is not dangerous, child. People are right to fear such things, because they could never understand the world underneath our own. And most should never want to.”
But Ratna’s mother had understood it. Maybe Calon was crazed with power, maybe a lunatic, even. But Ratna wasn’t about to start worshipping Rangda Demon Queen. She just needed her mother’s secrets to find her daughter. Then this would be over.
Ratna led Tanjung almost out of the highlands, toward Palace Hasta. In the year since its lord had fallen, the once well-trimmed vines had overgrown the gates. The few Moon Scions that remained tended their affairs and tried to stay out of others’. Which made it a shame Ratna had to do this. But Palace Hasta was perhaps even more beautiful than the Hill Palace, and she needed to make a statement.
Her witches were not going to be outcast. These people were going to help her find Revati, and that meant the entire Lunar Empire would answer to them, if need be.
“Get the others, then wait for me here.” Tanjung drifted off to do as she was bid.
Well, then, time to set things in motion. She found Malin on the porch of his own house, looking dazed. The tiger appeared to have drained three jugs of water and now slumped against the wall, staring at nothing.