The Skyfall Era Trilogy: Books 1-3

by Matt Larkin

  Semar knelt across the room from him, watching with those crystal blue eyes. “At last you have chosen.” He rose, leaving a pot of steaming tea on the floor. “You won’t need this anymore, I think.”

  Naresh pushed himself from the floor. He tried to speak, but his throat was raw, like he’d been screaming for a phase. Maybe he had.

  “Sleep now,” Semar said. “You will see dreams you have never seen before. And when you wake, the world shall see what it never dreamed of.”

  PART THREE

  1197 AP, The Rainy Season

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED SEVENTY

  Damn that girl for letting herself get captured. The thought had become Pohaci’s daily mantra. She could have gone to Swarnadvipa alone, but her best chance of finding the information she sought was through Chandi, the last living Scion of House Soma. Besides, maybe she could help her get Malin back from Rahu.

  She had no other reason to help the Moon Scion. No reason at all to care.

  Pohaci pushed through the underbrush in the wetlands. It was a comfort. Many people thought marshes contaminated or dirty, but they were no such thing. Wetlands represented the confluence of water and earth, the triumph of nature over civilization. Nothing could be cleaner.

  Nevertheless, Pohaci’s life had become a nightmare. Become? Who was she kidding? She’d always had a rough life, but she’d dealt with each loss, each deprivation or torture as it came to her. But she would not give up Malin. She would not let him suffer under Rahu’s lunatic whims. Malin had descended into the Bowels to save her from her nightmare. She’d brave anything to save him from his.

  But she could never rescue Chandi from Rangguwani. The Iron Palace was a fortress, and from all reports, Rangguwani had chained Chandi to his very throne, demanding Naresh come to him. So Pohaci would give the king what he wanted.

  She was going on a fragile hope, trusting her network of informers. They claimed Naresh had fled to Pottala, the Igni village. Firewalkers were dangerous, but with luck, they wouldn’t see her until she was ready.

  She passed into the wet rice fields, remaining so low the farmers couldn’t spot her. The waters stirred as she passed, but only a little. She could wait until nightfall and pass as a crocodile, but she’d already spent too much time tracking the Solar down. Every moment she wasted here, Chandi was at Rangguwani’s mercy. Not that Pohaci cared about her …

  From the edge of the wet rice fields, she spied on the village. A group of young men and women were practicing their Firewalking, tossing flames back and forth between them like a ball. A ball that would explode if one of the fools dropped it.

  When no one was looking, Pohaci dashed from the fields to one of the houses, hiding in its shadow. She passed from one shadow to the next, moving through the village like a whisper.

  There.

  Behind the fire shrine, Naresh paced around a training mat, working through Silat forms. That was Lunar Silat. And he was fast. Faster than she had ever seen a Moon Scion do the forms. Faster than her eyes could fully track. Faster even than she remembered him being in the battle with Rahu. A warrior with such speed and skill would be unmatched, even without the Sun Stride. It might give them the edge they needed to sneak in, save Chandi, and break out of the palace before Rangguwani killed them all.

  Of course, she’d have to reveal herself for that to work. Pohaci sighed and stood, but only after surveying the area one last time. The fire priest Semar watched Naresh with folded arms, saying little, but otherwise, the Guardsman was alone.

  Time to make herself known. Pohaci sauntered over, keeping one eye on Semar at all times. Probably a Firewalker himself, though she’d never heard of him using the power. Still, she couldn’t afford to underestimate the Igni. Best to be ready to take him down if he tried something.

  Naresh thrust both palms forward in her direction. His sleeves issued a crack from the sudden snap of his arms, and Pohaci could swear she felt the wind, even from ten feet away.

  Naresh’s eyes narrowed a moment, that was all. “What do you want, werecrocodile?”

  Semar regarded her too. Odd, the man didn’t even start at her appearance. Not easy to spook this one, then.

  “Your help.”

  Naresh shook his head and resumed his forms. “I don’t have the time to indulge your search for Malin. The Isles are in chaos. I have to finish my … training.”

  Of course the selfish Solar cared nothing for Malin—the man who had ended Rahu for everyone. Or tried …

  Pohaci eyed Naresh carefully. He smelled different. Faint, but his arrogance had been replaced with something deeper. Determination? Something had changed him, physically and mentally. “What happened to your limp?”

  The Guardsman glanced down at his once bad leg, then shook his head. “Exercise and a good diet.”

  Fine. What did she care, if he didn’t want to tell her? “You may not have time for me, but I imagine you have time for your wife.”

  Naresh paused, then walked over to her. “What about her? Where is she?” His voice was dry, harsh, and very serious.

  Pohaci looked up into his eyes, eyes that threatened terrible violence if something happened to his wife. She could see why Chandi would find him attractive, even if he was a Solar. He had nothing on Malin, of course. Malin was her mate. My lover, he’d called her. And she’d earned the title. “Rangguwani has taken her. He holds her, demanding your service. The Ratu Adil thinks he can cow you with a threat to your wife.”

  Naresh’s fists clenched by his side. “He wouldn’t dare.”

  “He has. Ask anywhere in Daha and you can hear his challenge. You are too sheltered here.”

  Naresh glanced at Semar.

  “It’s quite possible,” the priest said.

  “Of course it’s true,” Pohaci said. “You think I’d come all this way to waste your time?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded of the priest.

  “Do you think I track your wife’s every movement?”

  Naresh looked back at her, and his eyes narrowed. Then he started off, heading toward the village outskirts.

  “You still have things to learn,” Semar said.

  Naresh didn’t slow, so Pohaci trotted after him. “Naresh?”

  “Come.”

  She had to hurry to keep pace with him, but since he didn’t Sun Stride, he must want her along. “What are you going to do?” That smell, that scent coming off him had become something else, something she knew from deep inside her. Rage.

  “I’m going to educate the public in the proper behavior for an honorable king.”

  Pohaci had to hurry to keep up with his longer legs, now that his limp had vanished. “You plan to fight him?”

  “No,” he said, favoring her with a dark glance. “I plan to make an example of him.”

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED SEVENTY-ONE

  The chains grated against the iron ring that bound them, but they didn’t bend. Even when Chandi had drawn her Blessings as hard as she could, they’d only shrieked in protest. Now, she dared not continue to use her Blessing. The poppy extract they put in her water left her half-dazed, and she would not risk lunacy. Not again.

  “You won’t break those,” Rangguwani said to her. He sat on his throne, watching her from the corner of his eye while receiving his advisors.

  The Moon Scion who stood in front of him bore a bandage across his face. Hints of red seeped through the cloth near his right ear. “We’ve retaken Bukit,” the man continued, “but Bangdvipa is lost.”

  Rangguwani drummed his fingers on the armrest, scowling. “Tell your people they must hold the capital. We’ll make that a staging ground to spread throughout the rest of Swarnadvipa.”

  The wounded man bowed, swaying a bit as he did. “My lord … Reports from Yawadvipa seem … unbelievable.”

  Chandi had heard the rumors. She’d remained on her knees beside this throne for so many days, hearing everything. Would the man never tire of looking at her? She’d tried snide comments to see if
he’d send her away. He ignored them as he ignored her threats, pleas, and anything else she tried. Drugged with poppy, they let her walk twice a day, once in the morning, and once in the evening. The only time she could relieve herself, or take food.

  Once, the man had apologized for the treatment. “Truly,” he’d said, “I regret leaving you like this, Chandi. But I know enough of you not to let you out of my sight. And I will not allow Naresh to remain rogue. The Arun Guard have a place at my side. And nowhere else.”

  Chandi shook her head, trying to clear out the poppy haze, then turned her attention back to the wounded man.

  The Moon Scion bowed, but he looked ragged. “The soldiers who returned … The few who returned claimed the entire island is overrun with leyaks. Living nightmares.”

  When Chandi was a child, a leyak had attacked Bukit, or so stories claimed. People whispered that Malin had hunted it down and destroyed it. But the weretiger never spoke of such a thing. Had she failed to give proper credence to such tales? Would Malin know how to handle these things? If only someone knew where to find the Macan Gadungan. And if only Rahu hadn’t … Chandra, poor Malin.

  “We will attend to Yawadvipa once Swarnadvipa is secured,” Rangguwani said. “Hold the creatures at bay, and do not let them spread. Until we’ve dealt with the Witch-Queen, we cannot split our forces.” Rangguwani waved the man away.

  “You don’t think the two might be related?” Chandi said.

  Rangguwani blinked, but didn’t look right at her. Still, he must know the truth. If the Witch-Queen hadn’t called the leyaks, she must at least be coordinating with them.

  As the Moon Scion left the great hall, Sunten entered, still walking with a slight limp. The Macan Gadungan healed fast, so she must have damn near destroyed his knee for it to still give him trouble. Chandi waved at him, earning herself a snarl.

  “Announcing Arun Guardsman Naresh and Buaya Jadian Pohaci,” the weretiger said.

  Naresh was here? Chandra’s bitter spit, she hoped he had a plan. A better plan than walking into a trap.

  At the announcement, soldiers rushed about the hall, most standing off in the wings, others forming up in front of the throne, alongside Lembu Ampal. Rangguwani’s hands gripped the armrests and he leaned forward. A moment later, Naresh stepped into the hall, walking down the plush purple carpet with a determined stride.

  His eyes met hers and filled her with a sudden warmth, though only the barest hint of a smile touched his lips.

  “Naresh, it’s a trap,” she said.

  “I know,” he said, then looked to Rangguwani. “And you have but one chance to escape it, king.”

  Rangguwani slapped his hands on the armrests and stood, advancing to stand just behind Lembu Ampal. “You forget yourself, Guardsman! You are a servant of the king. I am that king, I am your new emperor, and yet you do not stand by my side. You abandoned your duty. Where is your famous honor? You will swear an oath of service to me, of loyalty for life. Only then will I accommodate your wishes.”

  Pohaci stood at the entrance to the great hall, eyes slowing taking in the mass of soldiers. And she would see everything, wouldn’t she? There were a half dozen Macan Gadungan, as many Moon Scions, a Guardsman, and at least twenty soldiers she’d seen—with probably others waiting in the wings.

  “Honor?” Naresh said. “You have abducted my wife. Release her.” He began to advance on the throne again. “Immediately.”

  “I am the Ratu Adil! You do not presume to give me orders, servant. Swear the oath or pay the price. You are nothing but a rogue soldier, given powers you do not deserve. You are a destabilizing force threatening this grand empire. Who do you think you are to challenge us?”

  Naresh stopped, taking in every face in the hall. “I,” he said at last, “am the Scion of Sun and Moon. Avatar of Night and Day!” His voice echoed through the throne room, as everyone else fell deathly silent. “And you will release my wife, or I will cross your broken body to free her.”

  For a moment Rangguwani stood there, slack-jawed and trembling in either rage or disbelief. Maybe both. If Naresh had wanted to provoke him, he’d succeeded. Indeed, Chandi found her own mouth hanging agape. Avatar of Night and Day? Did that mean Naresh had taken …

  “Kill him,” Rangguwani said.

  Chandi’s breath caught in her throat. Whatever his escape plan, it had better be good.

  But Naresh just stood there, hands spread to his side as the soldiers advanced on him. Sunten bounded forward, charging him from behind, keris knife in hand. More soldiers rushed after him.

  And then Naresh exploded into motion. He spun, catching Sunten in midair with his fist. He moved so fast, he seemed to be in two places at once. He caught a soldier’s arbir in one hand and slammed his palm through the shaft and right into the man, sending him flying back into his companions.

  He Strode behind a man tripping him, and again in front of another, flipping him over his shoulder. He Strode into the air, near the roof, carrying the man with him. His momentum built as he fell, and he Strode again, converting it to hurl the man straight out of the hall. The poor soldier must have flown thirty feet and blown straight through the double doors.

  Naresh was everywhere. Chandi’s eyes blurred trying to track him. He was on the ceiling and the floor, Striding across the room. His every blow sent men flying. At one time she’d swear he stood in three different places, leaving afterimages in all of them. It must have been the poppy affecting her mind.

  More and more men rushed him, but they were hurled everywhere. He was in midair, fighting Lembu Ampal. They were falling, each Striding all across the room. He punched the big man, sending him flying, then appeared behind him in the air, caught him, and flung him at the ground.

  Naresh landed atop him with crushing force.

  Someone tried to shoot him with a gandewa, but he was gone in an instant, and the archer fell dead before his arrow had crossed the room.

  Rangguwani himself ran at Naresh, moving fast enough he must have drawn every bit of his Potency Blessing.

  Naresh spun and kicked a Macan Gadungan in the head, sending him spiraling through the air. He caught Rangguwani’s arm and slammed his fist sideways into the king’s chest. Chandi heard bones crack from the blow. Naresh rammed his knee into the man’s abdomen, and Rangguwani crumpled to the floor.

  And then Naresh was still.

  In the space of a few heartbeats, Naresh, Pohaci, and a few courtiers who had not fought were the only ones standing in the throne room. Chandi released her breath. Pohaci finally moved, entering the room.

  Sweet Chandra. It looked like a cyclone had swept through the chamber. Men had been strewn about the hall, thrown about the hall, like palm leaves caught in the storm. Some lay in the center of the room, while others slumped against the walls. Some of the bloodstains coating those walls had to be twenty feet in the air.

  Chandi’s husband turned to her, then stepped over the fallen king as he walked toward her, never taking his eyes from hers. He grasped the iron ring with both hands and heaved. Metal shrieked again, and then the stones in the floor cracked. The ring jerked free.

  Chandi stood, still not quite able to catch her breath. She was vaguely aware of Pohaci kneeling over Rangguwani and sliding a keris into his prone form. She couldn’t quite bring herself to care.

  Her husband threw his arms around her, holding her tight in an embrace. The poppy haze still tugged at her mind, but she was safe. He had forgiven her. And she was safe.

  At last he lifted her into his arms, and Chandi wrapped hers around his neck. Naresh kissed her, then carried her out of the hall, not pausing to look at the wake of destruction he’d left behind him.

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED SEVENTY-TWO

  The sun had long since risen when Chandi’s husband stirred beneath her. His bare chest was warm, and she didn’t want to remove her head from it. She ran her fingers along the line of his jaw until he held them and kissed them lightly.

  “Are you hungry?” he
said, after a moment.

  No. She’d have to be starving to leave this moment. Though she wouldn’t have chosen Semar’s village, this place had brought Naresh back to her. The Igni had given Naresh a permanent house here, which implied he expected him to remain. They’d see about that.

  They’d slept together, for the first time in far too long. And it had been even longer since they’d made love like that. Naresh hadn’t spoken much, but his eyes had said more than words ever could. What had happened to him? Had time and fear alone brought him to this?

  Without doubt he’d taken the Amrita. Had it changed his mind as well as his body? “How much of it did you take?”

  Naresh swallowed, his chest moving underneath her chin, then ran his hands along her shoulders, and down her bare back. “All of it.”

  Chandi sat up, looking into his eyes. “There was more than a full vial.”

  Her husband grunted assent, then tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling. It looked like someone had recently patched holes in the roof.

  “What was it like?”

  His hand rubbed over her abdomen, and he shook his head. “Beyond words … I think I was lucky to survive. People weren’t meant to have both energies within them … the two gifts seem to feed off each other. I can Stride more, and farther.”

  Why would the powers interact like that? Of course, no one had ever considered combining them before. Who could? Since the Amrita and the Sun Brand had been discovered, the Lunars and Solars had been separated. “How far?”

  “As far as the eye can see. And using the Blessings seems natural, like training in Kebatinan for the Sun Brand had prepared me … like I can see them, inside myself.”

  And he was strong—stronger even than Malin, she’d guess, and faster than … anyone. Something deep within him had changed. Was he still the same man she loved? Was he still her husband under all of that? When he kissed her, when he held her, when he made love to her, she still felt his heart, beating in time with hers. But he’d become something that had never existed before. A living god, almost.