The True Queen

by Zen Cho

  “Georgiana did say the Fairy Queen exiled her sister to the mortal realm,” said Henrietta slowly.

  But if she was beginning to be swayed, Sakti was not.

  “You may not feel ill, but I don’t think you can be quite well, you know, kak,” said Sakti, shaking her head. “We must leave this place as soon as we can. It’s clear the air doesn’t suit you.”

  Muna glared at her. If only Sakti would, for once in her life, accept Muna’s authority as the elder! But that was an unhappy thought, for it reminded Muna that they were not sisters at all. In truth she had no authority over Sakti, nor any real bond to her. She was merely a mortal who, lost in the storm, had stumbled upon the Great Serpent, with the result that the spirit had attached itself to her in its confusion.

  “Why else would the Duke of the Navel of the Seas have summoned you, of all persons?” Muna demanded. “The Virtu holds the Great Serpent’s heart. The Duke must have intended to call her forth.”

  Sakti chortled suddenly. “If he did, small wonder he was disappointed to get me instead! But this will not do, kak. If I were the Serpent, he would have known me.”

  “There is no reason he would have recognised you. After all, you lack the best part of your powers—your heart. That was taken from you and stored in the Virtu. You are only the remnants of the Serpent—the scrapings of spirit that were left after her core was hollowed out.”

  “That is complimentary!” said Sakti airily, but Muna could tell her resistance was weakening. Sakti looked vexed, as she always did when she suspected she was about to be bested in a disagreement. It was strange to be fighting to persuade her of an idea so unwelcome to Muna herself, but—Sakti was owed the truth. Muna pressed her advantage.

  “When you first entered the halls of this Palace, did not you feel that you knew them?” she said. “From the way you speak of the Queen’s Court, anyone would think you had passed a lifetime here, when you have known it for less than a fortnight.”

  “Oh, it is my fault now that I am clever and adaptable?” snapped Sakti. “And who are you meant to be? Saktimuna contains your name as well. Perhaps it is you who are the Great Serpent. You have not considered that!”

  Muna had in fact thought about this. “Remember the night I found you? I must have been out on the sea when the storm came on. We were both cast upon the shore; you were confused, and you named me after yourself. It is not as though I could be the Great Serpent, when I have no magic at all!”

  Henrietta had been too polite to interrupt before, but now she said, “What do you mean, Muna? You do have magic. I have seen it.”

  Henrietta’s voice gave Muna an unpleasant start. She had almost forgotten the Englishwoman’s presence, or she might have taken more care about her words. It was not how she would have chosen to reveal her deception to Henrietta, but she could hardly turn back now.

  “That magic was borrowed,” she said reluctantly. “I was only sent to the Academy as a companion to my sis—to Sakti. It was she who was Mak Genggang’s protégée; I worked in the witch’s kitchen.”

  “Oh,” said Henrietta. It was all she said—she uttered no reproach—but the look in her grey eyes struck Muna to the heart.

  “I am sorry to have misled you,” she began, but Sakti said impatiently:

  “What does it matter if my “sister” has magic or not? She is not obliged to tell you everything about herself. I am sure there is a great deal you have withheld from her!”

  Distressed as Muna was, the word “sister” in Sakti’s voice warmed her, but her pleasure in it faded at Henrietta’s expression.

  “No,” said Henrietta. Her voice was precise and emotionless. “That is not so.”

  But Sakti had already turned to Muna, demanding, “Supposing I am the Serpent, kak, what do you wish me to do about it?”

  Muna cast a desperate look at Henrietta, but the Englishwoman would not meet her eyes. This gave Muna a pang, more painful than she would have calculated on. But contrition, explanations, reconciliation must all wait. There were greater matters at hand.

  “Only what I said,” she said to Sakti. “We must recover the Virtu. You must have your heart back.”

  Sakti’s eyes were wide. “But even if you are right . . . what happens once I have it?”

  It was bittersweet to have Sakti look to her for guidance, as though they were sisters still. Muna took comfort in it, though with every word she spoke she knew she was severing the bond that meant most to her.

  Whatever she decides, she thought, it will never be as it was between us.

  Still, Muna’s voice was steady as she said, “That is your decision. But you will be at liberty to make it. No one should have any hold over you.”

  Sakti stared at her. Then she flung her arms around Muna, making her stagger.

  “I do not deserve such a sister,” she said in a voice muffled against Muna’s shoulder.

  Muna returned her embrace, only raising a hand to dry her eyes.

  “You do not!” she agreed.

  “But how shall we get to England to recover the Virtu?” said Sakti. “The border is closed. The Queen’s subjects may not travel to Britain, any more than the British are permitted to come here. I thought perhaps that was what had delayed you, though I put all my magic into my spell to summon you here.”

  Unexpectedly, Henrietta spoke.

  “We were able to enter Fairy because of Georgiana Without Ruth,” she said. “She is head of the clan of Threlfall and they have never paid any regard to the Queen’s ban on travel to Britain. Mr. Threlfall resides in London, but he visits his relations in Threlfall regularly, and Georgiana seems to cross the border whenever the fancy strikes her.”

  “You mean we should ask Georgiana for help?” said Muna. “But she surrendered us to be eaten by the Queen!”

  Henrietta still would not look directly at Muna, but she answered, “Georgiana is not likely to betray us to the Queen now that they have fallen out. And if Sakti can arrange for her release from prison, I should think Georgiana would be willing to help us in return. Fairies have a strict sense of honour, and they dislike being beholden in matters of life and death.”

  “Could you free the naga from her prison?” said Muna to Sakti doubtfully. “Come to that, how did you manage to come into our cell? Was not the entrance barred by magic?”

  “Yes. But the cells are trees, as I told you,” said Sakti. “All I did was tell the tree spirits that I had been sent by the True Queen. Hardly anyone has spoken to them in a great long while, save the Queen’s Guard, who only give them orders. You would be surprised how pleased they are to hear a friendly voice!”

  “I don’t think I would be surprised,” said Muna, thinking of the spirit who had granted her her vision of Saktimuna. “Ordinary civility seems a rare commodity among spirits!”

  “As I recall, Miss Sakti, you said there was a fire-breathing lizard in the tree next to us,” said Henrietta. “I suppose it did not happen to mention its name?”

  * * *

  • • •

  IT was strange to emerge from the light of the grove into the darkness beneath the Palace of the Unseen. Muna had no recollection of the space, though she and Henrietta must have passed through it when the Queen’s attending spirits had captured them.

  They stood in a vast dim cavern, in the centre of which was a rank of pillars. Upon inspection these were revealed to be trees made of rock, with branching stiriae, like boughs. A delicate tracery of leaves was marked upon the ceiling, and a web of knobbly roots offered to stub the toes and bruise the shins of the unwary.

  The only faint light was shed by lamps affixed to the trees. Muna glanced up at these and froze. Beneath the crystal shade was no wick, but a very small person—smaller even than the polong, for Muna could have held him in the palm of her hand. He was swathed in translucent drapery, which did nothing to preserve his modesty; it
s purpose was evidently to soften the harsh light shining from him, for his entire person gave off a silver glow. His countenance was blank, the eyes gazing sightlessly ahead.

  “Adik,” whispered Muna. “What—who is that?”

  “What? Oh, the lights,” said Sakti when she followed Muna’s gaze. “They are imps who once displeased the Queen. They are like fireflies—give a good light when they are well-fed. She has them all over the Palace.” She frowned at the lamp. “They are usually brighter. I expect these have been starved for a dungeon-like effect.”

  The imp took no notice of them.

  “Are they . . . alive?” said Muna.

  “Oh yes,” said Sakti. “Sometimes they weep.”

  Looking at Henrietta, Muna was a little comforted to see her own horror reflected in the Englishwoman’s face. She had always known that Sakti could be callous, but it had never before struck her that perhaps Sakti’s insensibility was on an inhuman scale.

  “You will free them, I hope,” she began, “when—that is to say, if—”

  “This is the one that had the lizard,” said Sakti, pointing at a tree.

  She did not appear to have heard Muna, and Muna was glad of it, for she had spoken without thinking. To require Sakti to adopt any particular course once she had recovered her heart was precisely what Muna meant not to do. Yet she found herself already assuming that Sakti meant to regain the throne—that she would wish to rule over the realms of the Unseen as their rightful Queen.

  “I think we had better bring the lizard out here,” decided Sakti. “There was a desert inside the tree and it was intolerably hot—most uncomfortable.”

  She laid her hand on the bole of the tree. A susurrant voice spoke, making Henrietta and Muna jump:

  “Who approaches?”

  “It is the emissary of your Queen,” said Sakti in her grandest manner. “We wish to speak with the naga you hold. Pray discharge her.”

  The faint rustling voice said, “Give me the True Queen’s blessing, mistress, and it shall be done.”

  Sakti traced a symbol on the bark. A grinding noise started up, as of stone scraping against stone.

  “What blessing was that?” whispered Muna.

  “I invented it,” murmured Sakti.

  The tree began to tremble, so that the vibration could be felt in the stone beneath their feet. A dark gap opened in the trunk, hot air blasting out from it. Distant roaring filled the air.

  Henrietta retreated hastily, but Sakti remained where she stood, peering into the gap.

  “Come away, adik!” cried Muna, tugging at Sakti’s arm, but they did not move fast enough.

  When Georgiana Without Ruth burst from her prison, she knocked them both to the ground.

  “The nerve of it! The unspeakable cheek!” bellowed Georgiana, revealing sharp teeth in a terrible red mouth. “The Court will rue the day it dared to use a Threlfall with such contumely!”

  She reared up, her claws pricking Muna’s flesh through her clothes. This was not comfortable, but it was not as debilitating as it might have been, for the spell the Queen had cast on the naga was still in effect. Georgiana was as Muna had seen her last—no larger than a civet.

  “I shall pay out that jumped-up hussy,” cried Georgiana in a voice like the enraged clucking of a chicken. “I shall teach her such a lesson. If she thinks her stolen crown will preserve her from the vengeance of Georgiana Without Ruth, she will find she is mistaken!”

  She fixed a red-eyed glare upon Sakti and Muna, so furious she did not seem to recognise Muna.

  “But first,” growled the naga, “I must have sustenance!”

  “You can’t eat us,” said Sakti, undaunted. “It was me who freed you. It would be exceedingly ungrateful in you to devour me for my pains!”

  “And who are you?”

  “I should have thought you of all people would know me,” said Sakti, with as much composure as though she were not sprawled beneath the naga. “I am the True Queen, of course. My friends called me Saktimuna in days of old.”

  “Nonsense!” sputtered the naga.

  But Sakti’s declaration operated upon her like a dousing in cold water. Georgiana lowered her wings, and the red light in her eyes died down.

  Sakti took the opportunity to sit up and shove her off. Georgiana was so astonished that she slid to the ground without complaint.

  “No,” said the naga, “it can’t be.” But then:

  “It is you,” said Georgiana in wonder. “But reduced—oh, shamefully reduced! Your own sister would not know you.”

  “She did not,” agreed Sakti.

  “Why, a single swipe of the paw would kill you!”

  Sakti’s smile flickered.

  “If it were your paw, mistress, there can be no doubt of that,” Muna said quickly. Georgiana was plainly in no humour to help the Fairy Queen, but Threlfall had betrayed Saktimuna once before—they could not be too careful. “It would certainly delight the Queen of the Djinns if you were to deliver her sister to her. But it seems a shame when she has used you so ill. After you brought her gifts, too, and bore with shocking incivility from her attendants!”

  “Did my sister do all that?” said Sakti to the naga. “How like her to have rewarded your loyalty so!” She shook her head. “Some people have no sense of their debts—do not know how to be grateful. Now, I have never failed to return a favour. Once I regain my throne, I shall not forget those who helped me. They will find in me a faithful and loving friend!”

  “Of course we could not presume to advise you, ma’am,” added Henrietta, raising limpid grey eyes to Georgiana. “But laying yourself out to please the Queen has not produced happy results so far. Might not it answer better to try disobliging her?”

  Georgiana settled back on her haunches, crossing her forelegs and fixing a knowing eye on them.

  “I see what you are about,” she said—but she sounded amused. Muna and Henrietta exchanged a look of relief. “You need not think you will get around me with sweet words!”

  “Even sweet words of vengeance?” said Sakti.

  Georgiana showed her teeth, charmed. “You are Saktimuna! She always knew just what to say to get her way.”

  The naga paused. It was only once she had taken several moments to relish their apprehension that she went on. “It is true the Queen was offensive. Her years of power have gone to the girl’s head! But it is a heady brew. Who is to say you will not do the same?”

  “I say so,” said Sakti. “And if I know anything of this Court, my sister will even now be marshalling her troops to take Threlfall. She will wish to act before your absence has begun to give your clan concern.”

  “We have been prepared for an attack since the loss of the Virtu was discovered,” said Georgiana. “Threlfall will not be cheaply won.”

  “No, I expect not,” said Sakti. She sighed. “But it is a pity, when one thinks of the sad loss of life! If I were restored to my former glories, I could ensure that Threlfall’s ancient title to its lands was respected.”

  “You do not have the Virtu, then?” said Georgiana. “Your sister feared you might.”

  “Not yet,” said Sakti meaningfully.

  “But we know where it is to be found,” said Muna. “It is in Britain. Will you help us get there?”

  “Only if you feel equal to the task, of course,” said Sakti. “In your reduced state!”

  Georgiana bridled. “I would counsel you, Saktimuna, to refrain from insulting persons from whom you desire aid!”

  But it seemed Sakti had hit upon the truth, for the naga continued, “I shall recover my full strength in time. Your sister could not deal me any lasting injury, since I have hidden my heart away. You would have been wise to do the same! But if you desire me to open a way between the worlds now . . .”

  Sakti glanced at Muna, who nodded.

 
“I think we should leave as soon as we can,” said Sakti.

  “I shall require a restorative,” said Georgiana. Her amber gaze turned to Henrietta and Muna. “I do not need much. A dose of mortal spirit would suffice to recruit my energies. Which of these two can you do better without?”

  “Oh, if a mortal will do, you may as well take the Englishwoman,” said Sakti.

  “Adik!” cried Muna, scandalised. Alarmed, Henrietta inched closer to her. Muna pressed her hand in reassurance. “Miss Stapleton is my friend. And,” she added, when Sakti looked unconvinced, “she is a friend of the Sorceress Royal. We shall need help to recover the Virtu once we are in England. It would be injudicious to offend their arch-witch by sacrificing her oldest friend.”

  “The Sorceress Royal need never know,” argued Sakti. “We could say we’d lost her friend in the Unseen Realm—tell her the Queen took her.”

  “No!”

  “I could eat this one instead,” said Georgiana to Sakti, nodding at Muna.

  “Try it,” said Sakti, her eyes flashing, “and you shall discover in me a temper even worse than my sister’s!”

  “Hush, adik,” said Muna, though the sign of attachment pleased her.

  “Then I can do nothing for you,” said Georgiana, vexed. “We may as well all be reconciled to being devoured by your sister at her banquet. It will serve you out for your foolish obstinacy!”

  “Kak, you must see that someone must be sacrificed,” said Sakti in her most reasonable tone.

  Muna shook her head. An idea had come to her, sparked by the faint gleam of light off Georgiana’s scales.

  “There is something else I can offer,” she said.

  After all, it was borrowed magic, she thought. I must be able to give it back.

  Muna thumped herself on the chest. At first nothing happened, but at her second attempt she seemed to feel something dislodge inside her.

  A third blow—gold light flickered at the tips of her fingers, and a cough rose in her chest, bringing tears to her eyes. Encouraged, Muna thumped herself yet again. This time when she started coughing she did not stop.