by Matt Larkin
“What?” Dewi asked.
“Nothing.” Naresh rose. “I have to go, I have to get back.”
She almost leapt up as he did. “Did you say Ben?”
“Why?”
“As in Bendurana? The Serendibian?”
Naresh folded his arms and watched the girl. She was practically buzzing around. She half tripped over the tea table as she reached for him.
“You have to take me to him.”
With a sigh, he nodded. He didn’t know what Ben had to do with a Puradvipan prostitute, but at least she could help him escape the Coils.
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED FIFTY-ONE
Dewi Kadita knew the city, and with her help, Naresh had found his way back to the Lost Dugong quickly. The little guesthouse had become home, in a sense. At least, seeing it filled Naresh with a measure of relief after spending half the evening wandering the Coils. Perhaps the Luhur didn’t care about the poverty of the lower classes, or perhaps they encouraged it as a means of control.
When he opened the door to the guesthouse, most of the tenants had already retired for the evening. The owner kept the tables open late, for night owls. Like Ben, apparently, since he sat at one, sipping tea and eating curry.
“Ben?” Dewi’s voice came out as a squeak, and she tripped over her own feet as she rushed toward him.
Naresh caught her to keep her from falling face-first on the floor.
Ben looked up, curry dribbling down his chin. His mouth fell open. After a moment, he swallowed, slurped up the curry, and rose. “Ah, my lady,” his voice trembled at first, then grew steady. “Still shimmering like a flower on the sea. But with considerably nicer legs, I might add.”
Dewi pulled from Naresh’s grasp and threw her arms around Ben. “Surya … I gave it up, Ben.”
“What do you mean?”
“She let me go, after I was healed. Nyai Loro Kidul released me. I gave up the power for you!”
Wait, what? Naresh took a step toward them, trying to calm his face.
“She let me go so I could find you, but after Kasusthali drowned … I didn’t even know where to look. I tried searching the Isles, but I had no money.” Tears were falling from her face now. “I had no money, and I wound up here. And I … I had to survive. Surya, you know I tried! Oh, Ben.” Naresh couldn’t make out the rest of the words, muffled as they were against Ben’s chest.
In fact, Ben probably couldn’t make them out, either. He just cooed, spouting his usual nonsense and stroking her hair. “Ah, my dear. You know, fate’s been unkind to us. I need time …”
She pushed away from his chest, looking up at him. “What?”
Naresh shook his head. “I’ll leave you alone, Ben.” He wanted to say something more, but nothing came to mind, so he just walked down the hall toward the room he shared with Chandi.
Inside, she was asleep, although not peacefully. She tossed about the bed, grinding her teeth. He sank down beside his wife, stroking her jaw until it relaxed. “Sleep, my sweet moon.”
Poor Ben. If this was some old lover, her timing was terrible. Landorundun had been gone less than a year, and now this woman showed up, throwing herself at Bendurana. And claiming Nyai Loro Kidul had released her. The Queen of the South Sea.
Ben claimed, once, the goddess had saved him from a storm at sea. Then that same goddess had possessed Landi. Had the same thing happened to this girl? Surya, what were the odds of a man falling in love with two women, both of whom wound up possessed by the same spirit? Not so long ago, Naresh would have dismissed the idea of possession from Kahyangan as nonsense. It was hard to do so now. He’d seen the ghost of Rahu possess that boy, Mahesa. And Chandi swore Rangda Demon Queen herself had taken over her cousin Ratna.
So Kahyangan must exist. And it would be better for all concerned if the spirits would stay there. Earth had enough problems on its own.
Some time later, a soft knock sounded on his door. Naresh rose and opened it to a worn-looking Ben. He glanced at Chandi, who now seemed comfortably asleep, then followed Ben back out into the hall. It was dark. The old woman had closed the tables for the evening, and Naresh could barely see his own feet.
Ben stumbled over to a table and lit a lamp, then sat.
“What happened?” Naresh said, joining the Serendibian.
“Ah, Naresh, a bigger mess than a pair of mating elephants in the hold would make, is what.”
Naresh leaned back on his arms. He’d seen a lot of messes in their lives.
“Before I came to the Solars, I served with some Lunar pirates. Real bastard, that captain. About as much fun to be around as a tiger with a toothache. Anyway, we found this girl. Sick. They were going to kill her, but I saved her. Had to play hero, you know.”
Naresh rolled his eyes. He knew.
“She let the spirit take her. Saved her life. I thought we could never be together. I moved on, became a private captain. And then I met Landorundun. She was … luminous. Ah, Naresh, she was beautiful as the sunrise, wasn’t she? I’d never seen her like. You call me a scoundrel, but she stole my heart before she even knew me. Pretty underhanded, huh?”
“I doubt it was her intention.” Naresh had known Landi a long time. She stole hearts for certain, but she rarely meant to.
“Maybe not at first. But she plucked it out of my chest, tied a ribbon on it, and kept it in a box, just the same.”
Right.
“I guess I never understood the difference between Loro and Dewi, not until Loro took over Landi. But I never stopped to think what happened to Dewi. Gods above, I was a fool. And I don’t make such a claim lightly. You know, I’ve known a great many fools in my time. Some of monumental proportions. You yourself can sometimes … Well, never mind. Of course, if Loro wasn’t in Dewi anymore, back when she took Landi … it meant her old host was free, right?”
Naresh sighed. Ben seemed awfully fond of this woman. “She’s a prostitute.”
Ben waved his hand. “Ah, Naresh, she had to live. She grew up in a harem. What skills did you think she’d have?”
“You want her?” Naresh supposed Ben was entitled to any happiness he could find, however he found it, even with such a woman.
“I … How can I? All I see right now is Landi.”
Naresh reached across the table to clap Ben on the shoulder. “I wish I could tell you what to do, but I’m no expert. Follow your heart.” It’s what Chandi would have said. She was usually right about such things.
“And if I did choose her? Wouldn’t that be betraying Landi?”
Naresh sighed. Landorundun was the most tragic of all, perhaps. Whatever she’d sought out of life, it seemed she’d never found it. Or, perhaps, she’d found it for just a moment, with Bendurana. “I think she’d want you to be happy. If all we’ve seen of Kahyangan is real, then maybe she watches you from there, awaiting her return to the Wheel of Life. But you have to live in this life. Your next one will attend to itself.”
“I just don’t know anything anymore,” Ben said.
Naresh nodded. “I know the feeling.”
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED FIFTY-TWO
The world burned. Naresh reached a hand toward his wife, but flames swept over all the Isles. Blistering heat seared his skin. And in the midst of the conflagration, armies still clashed, oblivious to the death knell of the Earth around them.
Naresh started awake at the sound of a crash. Chandi was there, rifling through the dresser. Through his drawer.
“What are you…?” He rubbed his face. Surya, what a dream. He could still smell charred flesh in his sinuses. Nauseatingly sweet.
Chandi dashed over and knelt at his side. “Where is it? I just need a little bit, Naresh. I’ll be better after a little.”
The Amrita. Naresh glanced down at his side. The weight was still there, tucked into his sarong.
“It’s on you? This whole time?” Damn, she’d seen his motion.
Naresh sat all the way up and scrubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Chandi, I was up late with Ben las
t night. Some things happened. I need you to be calm for a little while.”
His wife leaned over him, hands on his shoulders. “I’m calm. Don’t worry, Naresh. I’m calm. I just need a sip … I can’t … It’s burning inside me, calling for it.”
Naresh took her hands from his shoulders and wrapped her in his embrace. “Shh. You’ll be all right. Breathe.” He rocked her back and forth. Her heartbeat against his chest was fast, erratic, and her hair was matted with sweat.
“Please,” she said. “Please, it’s eating me up inside. Please.”
“Calm, my moon. Breathe.”
Her fingers ran along his side, reaching for his sarong.
Naresh caught her wrist and pulled it away. “Chandi, no. Stop.”
She shoved him back on the cot. Hard. “Just give it to me!”
Naresh scrambled to his feet, with difficulty considering Chandi had launched herself on top of him. “Chandi, stop. Now.”
“Give it to me! It’s mine! You want it for yourself? Is that it?” She shoved him against the wall so hard it knocked the wind out of him.
Staggered, he tried to fend her off with no breath in his lungs.
“You think you can keep it all?” she shouted. “It’s mine, I’m Chandra’s Scion!”
He tried to speak, but still couldn’t get enough air. Chandi hurled him to the ground. He Sun Strode as she leapt for him, reaching the other side of their now-too-small room. Naresh rose, gasping.
Chandi launched herself at him, snarling. Naresh Strode again and his wife slammed into the wall.
“Love, stop!” he shouted at her.
She rushed him again, swinging at him with a right hook. Naresh blocked the blow, and the next several. He tried to hold her still, but she caught his arm and twisted him around.
“Chandi!”
She jerked his right arm, the one Malin had dislocated, and something popped out of place again. Naresh screamed. Red haze filled his vision and his knees threatened to give out. Chandi shoved him back against the wall and yanked the bundle from his sarong.
She held the Amrita reverently for a moment, before moving to unwrap it. Naresh tried to blink away the pain. If she drank that, he’d lose her forever. Assuming he hadn’t already.
He roared at her, and, as expected, she glanced at him. He Sun Strode behind her, and she spun. Her reactions ruled her. Before he even oriented himself, he Strode again, back in front of her and slammed his fist into her jaw. Chandi fell like a rock, landing on her backside. After a heartbeat, she looked up at him, utter shock on her face. Blood trailed down her busted lip.
Surya! Naresh had hit his wife. In the face. The horror of her expression was probably matched by his own.
She’d dropped the bundle.
Naresh Strode to it, grabbed it, and Strode away before she recovered. But she was still sitting on the floor. He had to get this away from her. No matter what it took, he had to keep the Amrita from Chandi. This was destroying her. He dove through the window, bursting through the shutters and landing in the street.
In the moment it took him to recover, Chandi had rushed to the window. “Naresh!”
Naresh glanced at her. Then he Strode to the roof of a building, then to another, and another. He had to get so far she could never track him.
Two more Strides, and he was down in an alley. He fell to his knees. He had hit his wife.
He had hit his wife.
And, Surya, she’d dislocated his shoulder. On purpose. She’d known that was the weakened one. Naresh stumbled to his feet and braced himself against a building. Damn but this was going to hurt. He roared as he slammed it back into place, then slipped back to his knees.
His breath came in gasps. For a moment, the pain overwhelmed everything else. Not long enough. It didn’t keep his thoughts at bay long enough. Chandi had attacked him. It had happened before, when she’d gone lunatic after Rahu’s murder. But this was different somehow. It wasn’t rage, even. This Amrita had poisoned her to everything else, blinded her until she saw nothing but it.
Maybe Pohaci hadn’t saved her with that second dose. Maybe she had only prolonged his wife’s death. Created a slow, terrible spiral.
No. No. He wouldn’t allow it. He’d get this away from her. He could pour it into the sea, destroy it. He stumbled back to his feet. And if he did so, if he cast aside an elixir that could save someone from fatal wounds, was that not almost the same as condemning someone to death?
He clenched his fists, though agony shot through the right one.
But whatever he did, he couldn’t go back. Not now. She’d attacked him. And he’d hit his wife.
Naresh wandered, not sure where he was going. Phases, perhaps, he walked the alleys. He had no shirt, so he dared not wander the main streets. The Sun Brand glittered with stored sunlight. Such a thing had attracted attention in Kasusthali. Here, it would become the talk of the city.
And then Chandi would find him.
Surya, her face would probably swell from that blow. She’d be lucky if she hadn’t lost any teeth, for that matter. She’d warned him darkness was growing in him. And she was right. Faced with adversity, he’d resorted to brutally efficient violence, even against the person he loved best in the world. It’s what he did. The most direct path to ensure a foe can no longer stand against you. And now he’d taken that path with Chandi.
He slumped down in another alley. The pain had faded from his shoulder, though it still felt tender. Naresh looked around the shadowed street. It was midmorning by now. This place didn’t look like the Coils, so he must be somewhere off the market district.
Naresh leaned his head into his left hand. Surya, please say he hadn’t broken her jaw. No, she’d spoken after that, hadn’t she? He glanced around the alley. There was a gutter to carry away the rain. If he poured the Amrita into it, it would be gone. Gone as the temptation for his wife. And gone forever the last hope of the desperate. Because her arguments for keeping it were good, despite the risk. It could save lives. And it could damn well destroy them, too.
“They said you were in these parts,” a voice said.
Naresh looked up. Asamanja.
“Boy, you look like you had a rough night. Put on quite a show this morning, too, Striding around rooftops in the marketplace. Made the people nervous.”
Naresh narrowed his eyes. He cared how the Luhur felt about as much as he cared about politics in Au Lac.
“See, an Arun Guard starts attracting that much attention, people talk. They worry it means change in Kutai.” Asamanja was fingering his keris knife. “We like things the way they are.”
With a sigh, Naresh rose. “I need a shirt.”
Asamanja fell back a step, but nodded. “Yes, boy, you need a shirt.”
“You’re worried I’m disrupting your perfect city? Fine, get me on a ship out of here.”
Asamanja’s hand left his knife. “Going where?”
Naresh shut his eyes a moment. “It doesn’t matter.”
PART TWO
1197 AP, The Rainy Season
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED FIFTY-THREE
Sweet Chandra, what had she done? Chandi had been asking herself that same question for almost three weeks. She’d searched Kutai for Naresh. Rumor said he’d left the city. He’d left her. She’d finally lost him for good this time, hadn’t she?
She sank against the cushion in the darkened teahouse. This place, The Sea Dragon, was a Luhur haven, in their palace district. It didn’t open until late in the afternoon, but it stayed open late, and no one bothered her here. Her eyes burned. She didn’t sleep much these days.
Asamanja plopped down on the cushion across from her, depositing another goblet on the table. “Lychee wine from Tianxia,” he said when she glanced at it. “Not as strong as the liquors, but tasty. Hard to find on the Isles, though.”
The liquors. Yes. Last time she’d come here, he’d given her those. Burning fire within. And merciful oblivion.
Chandi grabbed the goblet and took a long
swig from it. It burned, too, but was sweet, and had a thick aftertaste. She gasped, then took another sip.
Chandra help her, she’d thought she could control the need for Amrita. And then she’d attacked Naresh. How could she blame him for leaving her after that? She’d yanked his shoulder out of its socket like … like she would a foe on the battlefield. And he was trying to protect her.
She took another sip.
“Expensive drink in these lands.”
Chandi dropped a bag of pearls on the table. Oh, but Naresh had left her all his money. And he had plenty from the work he’d done for Rangguwani. Money she had, for now.
“Bring the baijiu,” she said. The warm Tianxian liquor burned more. It took her mind faster.
By the time Asamanja returned with the steaming glass Chandi had drained the lychee wine. It was enough to give her a slight dizziness, but didn’t remove her mind. It was her failing mind that had cost Chandi her husband, so it would be nothing to lose it. Why should she mind letting go? She’d fought the lunacy for too many years, trying to hold her mind. Why not let these Tianxian poisons carry it away at last?
“Chandi, girl,” Asamanja said. “Parents aside, you’re one of the most powerful Moon Scions in your generation. We could use someone like you. You can live like a queen among the Luhur.”
She snorted. “You want me to be a pirate?”
“You don’t have to leave the city at all. You can join us here. Imagine your own palace, servants awaiting your every pleasure. Bringing you whatever exotic delicacies your pretty heart fancies.”
Why not? How could she hold to any illusion she was better than these criminals? Most of them probably hadn’t tried to hurt their own loved ones. Not that she believed Asamanja even had loved ones.
“You could even be my queen,” the pirate said.
She slapped his hand away when he reached for her. “A queen … maybe. Yours? Not if the moon fell from the sky.”