by Matt Larkin
Some of the Lunars bristled at her words, but said nothing. Malin had no doubt she’d intended them to hear. He smiled despite himself. She thought he’d protect her from these people no matter what she did.
And he would, he realized. What they had done to her was unforgivable. And Macan Gadungan understood vengeance.
All things in time.
He led her to his house by the Hill Palace. Probably, she hadn’t wanted to walk through the city, but she needed to feel those stares.
And here, on his porch, they were out of earshot. Away from both the common people and Tanjung’s spies.
Malin sat, and Pohaci lounged beside him, her hands tucked under her head.
“What if it didn’t have to be this way?” he said.
Pohaci shifted to watch him.
“I’m going to change things for both of our peoples. Soon. Rahu created us. He did not own us. And Ketu and the other Moon Scions surely don’t either. We need to teach them this.”
Pohaci stretched. “Civil war?”
Malin searched her eyes. Not a hint of judgment there. Only the question. Everything he’d done for the past year had been to avoid civil war. If he brought the Jadian against Ketu and his allied Houses, they might win. But he’d probably end up destroying Ratna, too.
“I don’t know. Not yet. Right now, I want to try to save things here, if we can. Win over Ratna while Ketu’s away. We have to get her away from Tanjung.”
Pohaci nodded with her eyes, if that was possible.
“I want you to do something for me.”
“Anything.”
Good. “Find out everything you can about Tanjung. Watch her. Where she goes, what she does. Everything. I want to know her plans before she does.”
“Who is she?”
Malin sighed. “A witch. Fourteen years ago, she convinced Ratna’s mother to turn the spirits on the Solars. Attacked them with plague and flood, and when they responded, a leyak.”
Pohaci hissed. “Stories for children.”
“The Buaya Jadian inside you knows better.”
“So let’s kill her.”
Malin smiled. “Not yet.”
Pohaci rose. Stretched. She stepped off the porch and spun a full circle on one foot, then swept a dramatic bow. “I will never fail you, Malin.”
CHAPTER EIGHTY-SIX
Ratna didn’t mind that Malin had released the crocodile. It was insulting that he thought she wouldn’t find out, of course. And her father probably had a reason for locking the creature up, but she could have excused all that.
But this, she couldn’t excuse.
“She’s still out there?” Ratna stood, staring through the broken glass window in the Garden Palace’s—best everyone forget it was Palace Hasta—master chamber, looking out at the first sight of Chandra’s face tonight.
Purbararang nodded. The woman, Anusapati’s cousin, lacked Tanjung’s experience or power, but she made up for it with ambition. Ratna could use that. “Still hiding in the grasses, following Tanjung.”
Well. Even if the spirits hadn’t confirmed it, a real crocodile would never stalk a person like that. At least two days. This had gone on long enough.
“Tell Tanjung to move in on her. The werecrocodile will try to retreat into the woods in the hills. Meet me there with the guards. Upwind, or she’ll smell us.”
The woman, barely older than Ratna herself, headed for the door.
“Purbi,” Ratna called. “For Chandra’s sake, don’t let Malin catch on to any of this.”
Purbararang’s face creased. The young witch hardly knew how to hide her craft. Hiding from Macan Gadungan might test her. But untested, she’d never be of any use. Ratna waved her off.
Maybe she should have sent the Buaya Jadian to find Revati. The thought of letting one of them handle her daughter sent a shudder through her chest. Breathe. If the werecrocodile had half the determination at finding Revati she’d shown stalking Tanjung, maybe it would have worked.
Too late now. Ratna followed Purbi downstairs. Outside the Garden Palace, though, she could see a small crowd gathered in front of the Hill Palace. Ratna sighed. She’d taken to granting audiences to the people of Bukit. More and more came every day, but usually in the daytime, not at night. Unbelievable how much her uncle had allowed these grievances to fester.
It was always better to get these things out in the open. She plastered a smile on her face, then drifted among the people milling about in front of her home. Everyone bowed as she approached, but one woman’s face lit up. Hope. Ratna hadn’t seen enough of that lately.
“Please, my lady. My husband’s been stationed at the Astral Temple over a year.” The woman’s fine sarong and baju meant she was probably a Moon Scion, though who knew what House.
Ratna put her hands on her hips and clucked her tongue. “Well. I suspect there are a lot of people eager to see the Temple.”
She watched the crowd as a slight murmur ran through it. Plenty of them had bled or lost loved ones over the years for the Astral Temple. How many had even seen the sacred place? Ratna never had.
She turned to a slave. “Find Malin. Get him to round up a handful of Moon Scions who want to serve there. Bring them for interviews tomorrow morning.”
The slave nodded and scurried off. Perhaps three month shifts, then? If they seemed loyal, she’d send them to Ketu. Only in small groups, of course. Give her uncle time to adjust to new faces. With new blood to protect the complex, Ketu could afford to send some of the current guardians home. He never thought of such things.
“When they start sending home Moon Scions, I’ll make sure your husband is among them.”
The woman fawned over her, bowing and mumbling her gratitude. Ratna tried not to smile. “Please, the rest of you come back in the morning.”
Ratna made a show of waving them off as she entered the Hill Palace. In the courtyard, she drew her Gliding Blessing and ran up the wall. She had only crested the large eave of the saddle roof when she collapsed, panting. Damn Chandi for having it so easy. She made this look like breathing. Ratna’s stomach kept throbbing, contracting, and her ears popped.
Altering her gravity might give her the chance to make sure no one followed, but Ratna hoped she wouldn’t need to do it often. Once more, she drew her Blessings and ran along the roof, then down the backside of the palace.
By the time she found Purbi in the hills north of the Garden Palace, she’d controlled her breathing. Ratna wiped the sweat from her face, fixed her hair, then made her way up to where Purbi sat. Three of their personal guard stood nearby, fingering keris knives, chatting about the local girls or some such nonsense. Each had seligi stuck in the ground, the javelins ready for quick throws if needed.
“Is everything ready?” she asked the young witch.
Purbi nodded. “Tanjung will lure her here. I doubt the Buaya Jadian will fight. The assassins are not trained for handling open conflict against so many.”
Ratna grunted. Purbi seemed to know a fair deal about Jadian training. But then, she was House Kshuparaka, and they had helped run Bangdvipa.
She sat down beside Purbi and folded her hands. Damn Malin for making her waste her time with this. She could be using the witches to find Revati or solve the many problems Ketu had left in Bukit. Instead she had to deal with Malin’s shallow schemes.
Purbi scratched her head, then turned to her. “Malin really killed my cousin, didn’t he? They say he interfered in a duel.”
“He did.” If Malin hadn’t killed Anusapati, the lunatic would have murdered poor Chandi. Poor Chandi? Yes, because whatever had passed between them, Chandi had been her best friend. Malin had saved Ratna’s cousin by killing Purbi’s.
“I miss my cousin,” Ratna said. Foolishness. Purbi probably missed her cousin, too. And she might say he was dead because of Chandi.
But Purbi said nothing. Just clasped her hand and waited.
Ratna did miss Chandi. And her father, too. The Solars had taken both her parents fr
om her, and her cousin. But she couldn’t bring herself to hate them, not the way Ketu did. Not after seeing the devastation of Kasusthali.
She heard the rustling before she saw anything. Then the grasses wiggled, parted as something scurried through them. The crocodile darted into the open, spotted them, and tried to make a dash to the east.
“That’s more than enough, werebeast,” Ratna said as she leapt to her feet. “I don’t want my men to have to impale you with seligi.”
The crocodile held very still. Watched her, with those eerie, unblinking eyes. Yellow, slanted like a reptile’s, yet somehow still human. A chill ran down Ratna’s spine, though she tried to keep from showing it.
“Show us your real face. Now.”
At first, the crocodile didn’t move. Ratna put her hands on her hips and stared it down, trying to mimic the same intensity in her gaze that Tanjung had. After a moment, the creature started to morph. The slight, sickening sound of bones and muscles shifting filled the air, drowned out by the girl’s moans. Scales receded into flesh, teeth shrank, and the long snout became a dainty nose.
In the end, all it left was a small, skinny, naked girl on her hands and knees. Her short hair fell about her face, and her eyes, when she looked up, could have reduced Ratna to cinders.
More rustling came from behind, then Tanjung emerged from the bushes, a bundle of clothes in her arms. She dropped the clothes at the werecrocodile’s feet, then moved to join Ratna. Tanjung nodded at her, but showed no other sign of approval.
Ratna blew out a deep breath, waited while the woman dressed herself. The men around her seemed disinterested. Perhaps seeing her as a crocodile a moment before kept them from enjoying the girl’s lack of modesty. When the werecrocodile had buttoned her baju, at least as far as it seemed she intended to, Ratna edged her way closer.
The werecrocodile was a little taller than her, which wasn’t saying much. Of course, despite her slight frame, the girl probably had more strength than any one of the men guarding Ratna.
“Malin sent you to spy on us?”
The woman glared at her.
“It’s fine. It’s what your kind are good at, so I’m not angry with you. In fact, I’m going to give you the chance to keep spying. But you’re going to report to me. Everything you do, everything Malin says, everything the other Houses do. All the secrets of Bukit, you’re going to bring to me now.” And maybe she wouldn’t have to waste any more time playing these games with Malin.
The werecrocodile snorted, grinned a little.
Ratna shrugged. “Oh, did you like the Bowels? In that case, we can always arrange a more permanent location down there for you.”
The smile slipped off the girl’s face in an instant. She even took a step back, though she seemed unconscious of it. When she spoke, though, her jaw was firm. “You are your father’s daughter, aren’t you?”
“Oh, yes.” Ratna stepped closer. “Report to me, or we put you in a hole so deep not even Malin will be able to dig you out again.”
The girl’s shoulders fell, her head slumped. Ratna didn’t need any other answer. She passed the werecrocodile without another look, heading back to the Garden Palace. Purbi and Tanjung slipped in beside her.
“You did well,” Ratna told the young witch.
Purbi ran her fingers through her long hair and shrugged. As if it were nothing, cornering the crocodile while keeping the plan secret from Malin.
“The Jadian will continue to be a problem,” Tanjung said. “Especially Malin. Not as loyal as he once was. Always stubborn.”
Ratna shook her head. Whatever else Malin was, he was loyal. Her bodyguard had dogged her every step since childhood. Watching her too closely, like an infant that could hurt herself if left alone.
“The Jadian are the greatest weapon in the Lunar Empire. It’s not just the spirits in them, it’s their training.” Nowadays, they were trained in their arts from childhood. Trained to be perfectly loyal, perfectly lethal. “And Malin’s heart is with the Jadian, especially the Macan Gadungan.”
They reached the Garden Palace, and Purbi opened the gates for them. As soon as they entered the main hall, the smell of sticky fried rice and egg overwhelmed her. She must not have eaten since midday, in the lingsir kulon.
“So what do you suggest we do?” Tanjung asked, when the three of them sat with bowls of fried rice and a mug each of coconut water.
“The Jadian are trained to be loyal to their Moon Scion Houses. We want them loyal to me. So we need someone to watch over them where they’re trained, when they’re young.”
“Bangdvipa.”
Yes. The island off the coast served as the training ground for all werebeasts. They saw it as their home. And if Ratna controlled the island, she’d control Malin, through his people.
“You want me to go?” Tanjung asked.
Ratna shook her head. “I want her to go,” she said, pointing to Purbararang. “Purbi proved herself today, and her family already has a history with Bangdvipa. Now let her show just how valuable she can be.”
Purbi paused with a bite of rice halfway to her mouth. “You want me to live on an island filled with weretigers and werecrocodiles?”
“No. I want you to run the island.”
CHAPTER EIGHTY-SEVEN
After three years living under the domes of Kasusthali, being outside in the rainy season had grown foreign to Chandi. How much worse did Naresh have it, then, having grown up in the undersea city?
Suladvipa was the smallest and easternmost of the four great Skyfall Isles, and homeland of the Ignis. And of Landorundun, which was why Naresh had agreed to shelter here.
Despite the heavy rains, Bendurana seemed anything but bothered. The Serendibian ran about in the mud with Landi, kicking the rattan Sepak Takraw ball, while children chased them around the field.
“Ah, my dears,” Ben shouted, “brace yourselves. Amazement is headed your way.” He jumped in the air, kicked the ball backward over his head, and promptly fell in the mud.
Chandi had seen a few professional matches when she lived in Kasusthali. Even if those players played with more skill, they never matched Ben’s enthusiasm.
Landorundun chuckled. “Consider us amazed.”
Chandi stood in the rain, arms crossed, unable to hide her smile, as Landorundun helped her beau up. Mud caked the back of his baju and dripped from his locks.
“It’s a good look for you,” Chandi said.
“Ah, Chandi. I was going for rugged and adventurous, with maybe a dash of danger.”
A pair of children laughed as they stole the ball Landi had abandoned. One girl stopped to stare at Chandi, then turned and ran away.
Still.
Chandi sighed. Run little children, don’t let the Lunar monster get you.
She opened her mouth to tell Ben she was going inside, only to find the Serendibian had wrapped Landi in an embrace. One of the children made gagging sounds at the prolonged kiss.
When they came up for air, Landi had her hand on his face. Neither of them seemed to see anything else, so Chandi left them there in the rain.
Teaching the children of Cenrana the game had been Bendurana’s idea, but Landorundun had joined in with a little nudge. “Ah, well, if you won’t play, I guess our Lunar friend will have to show us all how it’s done, eh, Chandi?” Ben had said.
And there Landi had stood, arms folded, looking Chandi up and down. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”
Chandi might have wanted to try it, if not for the way the Solar children shied away from her.
Cenrana village wasn’t large in population, but it was widespread. Chandi and Naresh shared a house on the western edge. They’d built it themselves, log by log, because she’d fallen in love with the great, twisted tree nearby. The moss-covered thing must have been two hundred years old, and would have looked at home in the rainforest.
That first morning, after the house was complete, Naresh had climbed the tree with her. “I could just Stride us up ther
e,” he’d said.
Chandi laughed. “I know your leg hurts, but the climb itself is the point.”
The sun had risen while she lay cradled in his arms, dozens of feet above the ground.
And now, in the shadow of Chandi’s house, Landorundun’s older sister ogled Naresh. Of course, Chandi’s husband did cut an impressive figure, pacing around on the bamboo mat beneath the house in nothing but a sarong. The sunburst tattoo of the Arun Guard rippled over his muscles as he moved, his limp now reduced. His feet slapped the mat with each step he took, practicing the Lunar Silat forms she’d taught him. His leg trailed behind him a bit, but otherwise, he was becoming as adept unarmed as with a sword.
Naresh leaned forward, chest parallel to the ground, standing on his bad leg. All those strength exercises rebuilt his muscles, but damn, that had to hurt. Why did he do this to himself?
“Naresh, let’s go inside.”
Landorundun’s sister, Hainuwele, started. Chandi suppressed her smirk. Was it wrong to enjoy sneaking up on the woman?
“Chandi.” Naresh smiled without breaking his form. “I’ve almost finished. I’ll meet you upstairs in a moment.”
Chandi bit her lip, then trudged up the stairs. Despite his limp, Naresh never accepted help up the stairs. The stilts that kept the house above flood level meant he had a difficult climb, after what Malin had done to his leg. But she couldn’t begrudge him his pride.
She couldn’t even really hate Hainuwele. Cenrana was her home, was Landi’s family home, and they had accepted the refugees from Kasusthali, Chandi included. Barely accepted, in Chandi’s case. She’d betrayed her people to be with a Solar. She could never go home again. They might at least pretend she was one of them.
The villagers had helped them build this house in typical Suladvipan fashion. A narrow porch surrounded the house on all sides, most of it covered by the eaves. Chandi sat on the porch and watched the rain. Soon, Chandra’s bright face would rise above the clouds.