by Matt Larkin
Ice coalesced around her fingers and launched at him before he could react. An icicle pierced his thigh as he Strode into the sky. With the smoke, he couldn’t see far. Which meant he couldn’t Stride far. He Strode again and again, trying to put distance between himself and Rangda.
Frozen projectiles fired through the air, often missing him by a hairsbreadth.
At last, out over the sea, he could spot the clear sky. He Strode straight up, and then away.
Because she was right. There was not a damn thing he could do to stop her.
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED NINETY-FIVE
Soon they would reach Swarnadvipa. Landi had no desire to see the island again, but it was time to finish this. And though she might like to deny it, there was one more person tied up in Pohaci’s perverse love triangle. She used a rope to lower herself over the side of the Jin Laut, so she could place the cursed keris in the sea.
Perhaps Tioman wouldn’t answer. Perhaps the dragon had turned her back on the world. But Landi needed any ally she could find at the moment.
“It’s insane,” Pohaci had said. “The woman tried to kill us last time. We’re alive only because of her.” She pointed at Dewi Kadita. “And now you want to call the dragon again?”
“Dragons are not like other creatures,” Loro said. “Tioman may not be fully a dragon, but she might be close enough the ghost cannot possess her body.”
“You mean if she kills him?” Pohaci demanded. “You want to use her to kill Malin?”
Chandi had interposed herself between them then. “It’s one possibility, Pohaci. One we have to consider.”
And so now Landi hung off the ship, dragging the blade through the water. Her arm had begun to ache, and at last she gave up. “Pull me up.”
When she stood back on the deck, she rolled her shoulders. It had been worth a try. If Tioman had come, maybe she would have helped. The dragon had held her captive for a long time, but in a way, she was like anyone else. Lonely, trying to connect with someone. “Now we need to—”
The dragon’s roar cut her off. The beast flew from the sea, showering her with chilling saltwater. Tioman landed on the deck, folding her coils beneath her and staring at Landi. With red eyes.
Chandi pushed her forward a little. “It’s your call.”
Of course it was up to her. She tried to restrain the urge to glare at Chandi. The woman didn’t mean any harm. Tioman just had that effect on people. Including Landi.
“Rahu is still in Malin,” Landi said to the dragon. “If anyone can get through to him, maybe you can.”
Tioman blew out a puff of air and jerked her head, looking away. The water streaming down her face looked like tears, but Landi knew that was just her imagination.
Damn it, this woman had suffered enough, but she wasn’t making it easy. They needed Tioman, and Landi had to do this. “Whatever happens, we have to get Rahu out of Malin,” Landi said, though she could barely get the words out. And Tioman’s eyes were still red. Landi had to reach her human side, or this could turn very, very bad. “You must have seen that explosion to the east this morning. That was probably Naresh fighting Rangda. Whatever pride you feel, however it may have been offended, if you turn away from this now, it will be too late to rectify it later.”
Tioman turned back to her then, and her eyes changed just before her body began to shrink. Soon she had resumed her humanoid form, though still with turquoise scales. Was she really incapable of returning to her human form, or did she assume this hybrid guise to intimidate people?
“I will reach my husband.”
Landi shuddered. If she didn’t say it … “If you can’t, he’ll have to die.”
Tioman snarled, baring her teeth, her eyes flashing back to red in an instant. “I will reach him! Mine, he’s mine! I will!”
Pohaci took a step forward, but Chandi grabbed her.
Landi watched the other women from the corner of her eye. “We will bring him to you onboard the Long Awaited Dawn, then.”
The dragon growled, then walked to the bow, seeming to soak up the sea spray.
“Their marriage ended decades ago,” Pohaci said.
Landi sighed. “The only way to get him back may be for you to let him go.”
The werecrocodile shook her head. “I’m the one that will get through to him.”
Chandi came up and put her arm around the woman. “Are you sure you’ll be able to get him to follow you?”
Pohaci nodded. “I’ll bring him.”
A shudder ran through Chandi. “If you don’t reach him …”
“I know what has to be done!” Pohaci stalked away.
Landi frowned. They were committed, now. Letting Tioman do this, relying on the dragon for anything, was a gamble no sane person would take. At least not until driven to the extreme bounds of desperation.
They’d reach the shore in a few phases. She retired to the captain’s cabin, though Ben was on the deck above. She was so tired. In truth, she’d grown tired of all of this. Not long ago, she’d thought of retiring from the life of a soldier and returning to her music. Now she found herself burdened with saving the whole damn world.
She lay on her berth and shut her eyes, trying not to think. Kebatinan seemed farther away since her ordeal with Loro than it had in the past. Once, she’d been a master of the meditative techniques. It had made her a natural at the Sun Stride, too. Now, that peace was lost, like so much else.
She’d lost her home, her position, her power, and her sister. Hainuwele had never quite gotten anything right, and dying to save Lang … Landi almost wanted to be angry with her for it. Maybe Hainuwele had felt the same when Ben had told her Landi had died to save him.
She began to drift off to sleep, hearing music in her mind. It was soft, muted, and foreign—Tianxian, perhaps.
Landi sat up. There was no way she’d dream of Tianxian violins.
Out on the deck, Tua Pek Kong stood by the mast, playing the stringed instrument. Chandi sat on the gunwale, blowing on a Tianxian flute in something that vaguely resembled music.
Ben stood nearby, watching Landi and clapping his hands. “Ah, my love, you didn’t think I’d let the day go by without a bit of song and dance, did you? Heroes always have to have a party!” He slapped his hands, stomped his feet, and slid along the wet deck over to her, sweeping her into his arms.
Landi laughed, spinning in Ben’s embrace, and danced about the deck. Other members of the crew had begun to dance as well, or to beat winches or barrels in time with the music. The foreign admiral was pretty good, actually. And Ben had arranged all this for her. Landi kissed her husband after their dance.
The seas had turned turbulent, and a sudden wave almost threw her from her feet. Ben caught them against the gunwale. Landi looked past him at Dewi Kadita, whose entire body trembled in time with the seas. She cocked her head at the woman, and Dewi shuddered. Then something cold washed over her, and she straightened. Nothing had changed, and yet her eyes had become alien. Loro had taken control, and the moment she did, the seas calmed.
Tioman had started over toward the mermaid, but paused. She turned her gaze—yellow eyes, thank Surya—on Landi, watching her and Ben. The dragon’s jaw trembled, and her claws scraped along her frill. Then she spun on her heel and stalked to the bow. Tioman had spent decades alone, thinking her husband lost. Now she found him again, only to learn not only did he love another, but he was possessed by a ghost.
Landi brushed her hair from her face. Nothing she could say to the dragon would make any difference. And she couldn’t afford to join her in misery. Not tonight. Not after Ben had arranged this.
Tua Pek Kong had stopped playing when the dhow jerked, but after a moment, he resumed his song, as did the others.
Landi sauntered over to Chandi. “You’d better give me that before you hurt yourself.”
Chandi flashed a crooked half-smile, then handed her the flute. “He knew you’d want to play if you saw me try.” Of course he did. “You know, you could
always teach me.”
Landi smiled too as she sat beside the Lunar. “Someday, when this is over, I will.”
For so many years she’d been perfecting one song, but she didn’t play that now. She played a song of peace, of calm, and of triumph. She played the hearts of the crew, because they needed her to. And by their faces, she played them well.
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED NINETY-SIX
Pohaci crouched over the bodies of two of Rahu’s cronies. Sabdapalon cowered in the corner, covering his head with his hands and mumbling.
“I have no quarrel with you, old man,” Pohaci said, rising. “In fact, you can tell them I was here.”
She didn’t have to risk letting Rahu see her himself. She just needed to make sure word of her arrival got back to him. Luring the fools into the Loghouses was easy enough, but ensuring there was a witness to recognize her had taken a little maneuvering. And a little luck.
She ran directly from the Loghouses through the market and down to the beach, taking the cliff path too quickly to be safe. She needed people to see where she’d gone, but it would be bad if Rahu caught her before she got back to the ship. Her foot slipped on wet gravel and she nearly skidded off the path. Sharp rocks cut her hand as she steadied herself against the cliff.
She leapt the last ten feet off the path and hit the beach running. There was no way she could handle Rahu by herself, so she made a break for the rowboat. This was a stupid plan. She’d do anything to get Malin back, but Rahu was going to kill her before they even reached the dhow. Or maybe he’d choose the damn dragon.
She shoved the boat off the beach and jumped in, pumping the oars with every scrape of strength she could muster.
The Long Awaited Dawn wasn’t far, but when she looked behind her, a jukung was approaching. Malin stood on it, his face a mask of rage and delight all at once. The ship moved without him even tending the sails, and it moved fast. Maybe faster than she could get back to the dhow herself.
Her rowboat began to creak before she reached the Long Awaited Dawn. It sounded like someone sitting on a chair that couldn’t support his weight. A spray of water shot up from between two boards, soaking her. Shit. Pohaci leapt off the side of the boat and swam for the dhow.
A heartbeat later her rowboat splintered like Rahu had crushed it in the palm of his hand. Pohaci dove underwater, swimming as fast as she’d ever swum in human form. They should have done this at night, when she could shift.
Her hand brushed the dhow’s hull and she snared a line, hauling herself up. The hull was slick with water, giving her no footholds, so she had to pull herself up by strength of arm alone. By the time she rolled over the gunwale her shoulders ached.
Tioman stood there, watching her. Bitch could have lent a hand.
Pohaci shook herself and stood. “Enjoying the show?”
The dragon woman shrugged and turned back to watch Malin’s jukung as it pulled up alongside the Long Awaited Dawn. Pohaci watched her lover climb the hull with ease. They were really doing this. Her heart raced, but she held herself still. Always wait for the right moment. She could still save him.
“Husband,” Tioman said.
For a moment, Rahu hesitated, looking at her, then held his head in one hand. A snarl escaped him.
“You know me, my love,” the dragon said. “You made your vows to me. It’s time for us to go home.”
Rahu, or Malin, looked up from his hands, a pained expression on his face. “A lifetime ago …”
“You can have it again.” The dragon took a step toward him and ran her hand along his cheek.
Malin reached out too, stroking her jaw with both hands. Pohaci clenched her jaw. She was going to lose him to this … creature. But it was better than allowing Rahu to have him. If it was what Malin wanted, she owed it to him to see this through. Instead, she fell back, retreating toward the poop deck. If Tioman brought him back, then the dragon deserved him.
And Pohaci would be alone. She’d been alone her whole life. It had been a fool’s hope to believe in anything more.
A sickening crack froze Pohaci in place.
She turned, slowly, to see Tioman’s limp body hanging from Malin’s hands. Her neck was twisted all the way around backward. Her lover dropped the dragon’s body and sneered.
A hollow chill filled Pohaci’s abdomen. Her legs wouldn’t work. Tioman was a dragon. Tioman was … dead. Like kindling snapped in half. How could he have done that to his wife? How could he have done it to a dragon?
“You really thought that would work?” Rahu said to Pohaci. “You think whatever Malin felt for someone, he’d be strong enough to challenge me? I have become a god, little crocodile. And you, I should have killed long ago. I let your father’s sentiments for you cloud my judgment. The foolish mistake of a mortal heart. A situation I have since transcended.”
Tioman’s empty yellow eyes stared at her. Accused her, as if she had been the one bring the dragon in on this. And soon, Pohaci would share Tioman’s fate.
She backed away, up to the poop deck. Rahu followed, his teeth bared. The ghost had taken her love, and she had to accept that she couldn’t get him back. Malin was gone, and she … She’d failed the one person who she’d sworn never to let down. A profound nothingness rose in the pit of her stomach, and only the crocodile spirit within let her keep moving. Maybe now, all that remained was to free him from this torment. She backed into the brazier on the poop deck, lighting the explosive Tua Pek Kong had given her. A little metal ball, filled with black powder. When the wick burned down to the powder, the ball would explode, flinging metal bits everywhere.
Crude, but the demonstration he’d given her had been convincing.
As Rahu crested the stairs, she flung the ball at him. With a wave of his hand he sent the explosive soaring up into the air, where it detonated. He jerked at that, and paused to look up.
“Nice trick. I didn’t think the people of this era had rediscovered that yet.”
And it was done. Everything was finished. Find the right moment, and act without hesitation. Pohaci fell to her knees. “I love you, Malin.” Tears threatened at the corners of her eyes. But crocodiles didn’t cry.
“Oh, he knows,” Rahu said, as he closed the distance between them. Then he choked, coughing, and stumbled down to the deck. He sputtered something incomprehensible.
Pohaci grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him back to his feet. “Malin?”
“I love you … too … Pohaci,” he said. His every word seemed pulled from him. He jerked his head from one side to the other. “I can’t … I can’t stop him …” Then he looked up and met her gaze. A softness filled his eyes that she’d never seen there. And in that softness she saw the reflection of her own soul, and for the first time in her life, true peace. “Save me.”
Pohaci nodded, and gently turned his head to the side. Off the port side, the air rippled. The illusion fell away and the Jin Laut appeared.
“This ship is filled with black powder.”
Malin stood straighter then, and he laughed. Loud and clear and free. “Send the bastard back to the underworld.” He wrapped her in his arms and kissed her so hard it took her breath away.
She heard the retort of the Jin Laut’s Fire-Lances, but she just kept kissing Malin.
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED NINETY-SEVEN
Chandi screamed from the effort. She knelt on the deck of the Jin Laut, extending her Glamour around the entire dhow. Once, she never could have done this. The very idea was lunacy, and would have destroyed her mind. But Kala had taught her. She could see her energy, see the river of it flowing through her, flowing into her from the universe itself. She could see the toll of that power, draining at the edges of her mind. She wrapped that lunacy in a ball and allowed the river to flow around it.
Her eyes burned. Her nose bled. Pain flared from her limbs. Her fingers dug into the deck so hard she scored the wood and ripped her fingertips raw.
Chandra, please let Tioman succeed. If the dragon got through to Malin
, they would never need this backup plan. Pohaci was her sister. Malin was … Chandi didn’t know what Malin was anymore. But she didn’t want to lose Pohaci. The girl knew what she was doing. But how could Chandi just let her go?
The answer was easy, of course. Love. If Naresh had killed Mahesa, Rahu would be in him now. And Chandi would do the same thing as Pohaci. If the man she loved couldn’t be saved, she would at least end his nightmare.
Ben’s hand fell on her shoulder. His spyglass hung limp at his side. “That was the signal.”
Chandi hadn’t even heard the hand explosive go off. How could she, over the sound of her own screaming? If Pohaci had set off that explosive, it meant she and Tioman had failed. Maybe her sister was dead already.
And yet she couldn’t quite let go. Still she held the Glamour. She didn’t want to lose anyone else.
But Naresh needed her, too. He couldn’t afford to have Rahu come to Rangda’s aid.
She let the Glamour fall, and the air rippled, revealing the ship beneath her. Unconsciousness threatened at the edge of her mind when she let the power go. Maybe that was all that had kept her going.
“Chandi?” Bendurana said.
“Do it.” Her voice was raw from screaming. She forced herself to look up. She had to witness this.
“Fire!” Ben shouted.
Six Fire-Lances rocked then, back-to-back. They were so far from the Long Awaited Dawn, it took a heartbeat or two before anything happened. It felt longer.
And then the other dhow went up in a fireball that must have stretched fifty feet in the air.
Another heartbeat and Chandi heard the explosion, felt the heat. Or maybe she was just flush from the effort. She fell back to the deck and wept.
“Ah, she was a good ship,” Ben said. “Oh. And a good crocodile, too. And Malin … he was a good friend. Occasionally.”
By her side, Chandi saw Landorundun embrace Ben, and both of them shuddered. One of them put a hand on her shoulder, but she didn’t look up to see who. It didn’t matter, since she knew they both felt the same.