The True Queen

by Zen Cho

  Amelia’s heart gave a painful thump in her chest. Henny! she thought.

  Henrietta must have been exposed—or worse. But Amelia and her sisters had had ample practice in the art of concealing their emotions for the past several months, since Mr. Stapleton had told them about the parlous state of his affairs.

  Amelia said, smiling, “You terrify me! It is most kind of you, but I was not aware I was in special need of friendship.”

  “Oh,” said Emily, doubt crossing her countenance. “Perhaps I have misheard.” But despite Amelia’s suavity, some flicker of unease must have betrayed her, for Emily pressed her hand again. “You may trust I have told everyone there is nothing in the rumours! Where is Henrietta?”

  Perhaps Henny had not been exposed for a witch. But what then could have made Miss Villiers look so tender and solicitous?

  “Is it true she is to be married?” said Emily in a low voice. “Is there nothing else to be done? How I feel for her!”

  Amelia was so overcome with relief that it was necessary for her to exert herself to suppress a broad smile. It would have been a highly unsuitable response, for of course her father’s ruin was no matter to smile about. But the threat had been looming over one for so long that one had grown accustomed to it. To be ruined, after all, was a disaster one could imagine—whereas who knew what outlandish things might be happening to Henrietta even now?

  Amelia must put Emily off—try to mislead her, for it was clear Emily had heard some rumour of how Mr. Stapleton’s affairs stood now. Before she had decided what to say, however, Emily cried out:

  “Ah, there she is!” Emily waved. “Henny!”

  Across the room stood the chief source of Amelia’s disquiet—Henrietta herself, not her unsatisfactory replica. She was accompanied by a native woman, attired in a primrose yellow satin dress Amelia recognised as one of the Sorceress Royal’s.

  “That must be the foreign sorceress,” said Emily. A gleam of professional interest lit her eyes. Miss Villiers had nothing to do with the Sorceress Royal’s Academy, as far as anyone knew. But she had known Mrs. Wythe at school, and if Henrietta was any example, in these times there was little that could deter a determined female from the practice of conjuration.

  Henrietta seemed wholly unconscious that she might have given Amelia any reason to be discontented with her.

  “You look ravishing, ’Melia!” she cried, embracing her. “Porter has outdone herself. Those curls become you wonderfully.”

  When Henrietta turned to her companion, Amelia noticed a faint rose hue colouring her sister’s cheeks. “Muna, this is my sister Amelia. And this is Miss Villiers, whom Mrs. Wythe and I knew at school.”

  Amelia wished to study her sister’s friend, for the native sorceress appeared to be of rather more importance than she had realised. But Miss Villiers pounced on Muna at once. The foreigner was whisked away, leaving behind little more than an impression of melancholy dark eyes.

  Amelia took the opportunity to draw her sister aside, whispering:

  “Henny, Miss Villiers has told me something extremely alarming.”

  Henrietta’s eyes widened. Amelia said quickly, “She asked if you were to be married. Do you think she might suspect—about Papa, I mean?”

  “Why, Henny,” said Emily Villiers, breaking off from her interrogation of Muna, “I thought there was only to be one foreign sorceress here.”

  “What do you mean?” said Henrietta.

  Amelia looked around to see that another native female had arrived. She looked very much like Muna, for the hue of her skin and the cast of her features were similar, suggesting they were of the same extraction. The new arrival was swathed in a gauzy material that made her look as though she were robed in mist. It was sufficiently opaque to preserve the proprieties, but the effect was nevertheless rather scandalous in a young female. The other guests were looking askance at her when a cry broke from Muna.

  “Adik!” Muna hurled herself across the room, falling on the stranger’s neck.

  “Thank goodness!” said Henrietta, glowing with relief. “The spell summoned her sister, after all.”

  “Her sister?” said Amelia. The foreigners were engaged in a heated conversation, conducted in whispers.

  “Muna was parted from her sister when they were—er—travelling in Fairy,” said Henrietta. “She cast a spell to recover her, but I was very much afraid that . . . Well! All’s well that ends well. I must congratulate them.”

  This left much to be desired as an explanation.

  “Henny,” said Amelia, frowning.

  But Henrietta must not have heard her, for she was already starting across the room. Amelia followed her, but what with the press of the crowd, she had not reached the other end when the ball was interrupted by an even greater sensation than Mrs. Stapleton could have dreamt of.

  * * *

  • • •

  SAKTI allowed herself to be embraced, but she seemed amused by her reception.

  “There, there!” she said tolerantly. “Were you so worried? You should have known I would always land on my feet!”

  Muna drew back, drying her eyes. “You were drowned by a wave of spirits! Is it any wonder I was worried?”

  “Well, you may forget worry now,” said Sakti. “For I have found us a place to live!”

  “What?” said Muna.

  “It is a pleasant country in Fairy Without, far from the regions governed by the Queen of the Djinns,” said Sakti. “We will be safe from her there, for the people of that country defeated her so roundly in war that she has never ventured to trouble them again.

  “You see, I have reflected upon the matter. Of course we had to tell the naga Georgiana that I meant to assert my right to rule, or she would not have helped us. And perhaps I could defeat the Queen once we recover the Virtu and I am restored to myself, but for what prize? From all I have seen of the Palace of the Unseen, the throne seems an excessively uncomfortable seat. What with you being mortal, kak, my enemies would always be seeking to threaten you, so as to frighten me into doing what they wished. It seems to me we would do better to get away from all of that.

  “You will like the country I have found,” Sakti added. “The climate is far more agreeable than Britain’s, and even an improvement on that of Janda Baik, for they have no mosquitoes or leeches. They are plagued by a sort of small djinn, not very clever, but the djinns are said to be morbidly sensitive and can be kept off with insults to their appearance.”

  Her smile faded when she saw Muna’s expression. “You don’t seem pleased.”

  “Oh, I am,” said Muna unconvincingly. “We will go anywhere you like, but adik, you do not know the whole of it. I found the Virtu—the whole article, unbroken—”

  “How clever of you!” said Sakti. “Then there is no reason we should not go now.” Sakti seized her hand, as though she meant to spirit them away at once.

  “Wait!” cried Muna. “I promised my friend I would attend her mother’s party. I cannot leave now. Besides—”

  Sakti frowned. “Kak, need I remind you that you are pursued by the Queen of the Djinns herself? When I left the Palace she was ranting about pursuing Georgiana Without Ruth and her mortal slaves. And if she realises what I am, I shudder to think of the consequence!”

  “What we are,” said Muna, not without trepidation.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “It is as you said, adik,” said Muna, watching Sakti’s face. “We are both Saktimuna. We were one soul before, but when the Duke broke the Virtu in two, it divided us one from the other. I took the Virtu into myself, and—”

  “You took the Virtu into yourself,” echoed Sakti. “You mean you ate it?”

  At her tone the warmth of their reunion drained from Muna, leaving her cold and uncertain.

  “Yes, but—”

  “You ate it,” repeated Sakti.
She looked at Muna as though she could not recognise her. “I could not have believed you would be so selfish!”

  “I can explain,” said Muna.

  But Sakti did not want explanations.

  “Have you been jealous of my magic all along?” she said.

  “No!” said Muna desperately.

  She bethought herself of Rollo’s scale and hit herself on the chest, but she knew even as she did it that it would not work this time—she would not be able to disgorge the Virtu. It had been one thing to bring up Threlfall’s magic, which had never been her own. The Virtu held her own heart; she would not be able to surrender it so easily.

  Muna tried again anyway. She would have done anything to take away the look in Sakti’s eyes—the uncomprehending shock of a betrayed child.

  But Muna had forgotten her summoning. The enchantment was still unfolding, and now it worked itself out to its conclusion.

  Sakti was the first to notice the unrest spreading through the crowd. She turned away to see what was happening as the general chatter subsided.

  “Oh no,” breathed Muna.

  At the entrance to the Stapletons’ ballroom stood Saktimuna’s sister, brought by the fine ones at Muna’s request. The Queen of the Djinns looked around disdainfully, as though she were surprised to find herself in such company.

  26

  MUNA

  THE QUEEN HAD elected to appear in the form of a woman crowned not with hair, but an enormous scarlet bud blossoming out of her head. The bud expanded and contracted with the steady rhythm of a heartbeat. From its core, cradled by fleshy petals, shone a light from which Muna hastily averted her eyes.

  “There!” said Sakti, with sour triumph. “Did not I say she would pursue you? You ought to have listened when I told you to come away with me. Now it is too late!”

  Muna shook her head, gripped with horror. “She would have found me wherever we went. I called her.”

  “You called her? What can have possessed you to do that?”

  “I thought you were dead!” protested Muna. “I thought if I summoned my sister, either you would be restored to me, or—or the Queen would come, and I could at least seek to avenge you. I thought you might like to be avenged.”

  Sakti was still angry, but her expression softened. “You were prepared to challenge the Queen of the Djinns for my sake? Truly?”

  “Adik,” said Muna wearily, “when have I ever lied to you?”

  Before Sakti could answer, the Queen’s voice boomed out:

  “There she is!”

  The Queen was gazing directly at them. She was not alone, for by her side was a spirit rigged out in extravagant European style. Lace ruffles cascaded from his throat, jewels gleamed on the enormous buckles of his shoes, and atop his monstrous wig was perched a crown.

  “The King of the Djinns!” whispered Sakti.

  “But there are far too many souls about,” said the Queen, frowning. “It is most distracting! Would you be so good as to silence them, my love?”

  The King flicked his fingers. All noise was abruptly muffled, the guests freezing in place. Muna looked into the face of a nearby Englishman and saw the light from the Queen’s head reflected in his dazed eyes. He was enchanted.

  “You have taken the Virtu into yourself, I see,” said the Queen. Her eyes on Muna were glittering. Potent magic wafted from her. “You should count yourself fortunate I have found you. The Virtu would have poisoned your blood in time. Its magic is far too rich a brew for any mortal to sup.”

  Muna knew she should run or perform some magic to defend herself and Sakti. But she was fixed in place, all her limbs trembling, for the Serpent had chosen this most inconvenient of times suddenly to rear its head.

  Saktimuna’s memories flooded her—painful memories, of the time when her heart had been torn from her and she had been banished to the mortal realm. It had been agonising to be deprived of the best part of her soul and magic. But worse than that had been the betrayal—for Saktimuna had loved her sister.

  “I ought to have made certain of the Virtu long ago,” said the Queen. “Only foolish sentiment held me back. But I shall not make that mistake again. First I shall consume you and the Virtu—and then all of England will know my vengeance!”

  Do something! said Muna to herself, but even as the Queen bore down upon them, she was powerless to speak or move, overwhelmed by the Serpent’s ancient grief. She shut her eyes.

  The Serpent had been defeated once before. She would be defeated again. She, Muna, would die, and so would Sakti, and so would everyone else she knew and loved . . .

  A warm hand stole into hers.

  “Stupid woman,” said Sakti into Muna’s ear. “Can you believe she has not realised what we are? If you strike now, kak, you will take her by surprise. Do not be afraid!”

  Courage flowed into Muna through the hand in hers. She opened her eyes. The Queen was nearly upon them, but Sakti’s words had broken Muna’s paralysis. Now she was able to reach inside herself, drawing upon the glowing core of Saktimuna’s magic inside her.

  The magic came awkwardly to her hand. It had been an age since she had last been mistress of such power—she was no longer accustomed to it. But as Muna gathered it up she began to remember what it was to be the Great Serpent.

  The words of a long-forgotten spell rose to her lips. Searing light sprang from her hand and she hurled it at the Queen, knocking the fairy off her feet.

  “My soul!” cried the Queen’s consort, leaping to her side.

  The enthralled guests stirred as their trance broke. The Englishman by Muna came awake all at once, stood blinking for a moment, then bolted for the doors.

  “Let us go, kak,” said Sakti.

  But Muna shook her head. “I have only stunned her for a moment.” The King was lifting the Queen from the floor. The Queen’s power was not quenched, only dimmed, and shortly she would wake, angrier than ever. “Go now, adik. Save yourself.”

  “And what will you do?” demanded Sakti.

  Muna could not see Henrietta in the crowd. Perhaps Henrietta had fled, though it was her own house. That would be best, but Henrietta was not the only mortal who would be defenceless against the Queen of the Djinns.

  “Perhaps I can draw the Queen away when she wakes,” said Muna. “I cannot leave her to vent her rage upon these people.”

  “Englishmen and women!” Sakti looked around. As the guests emerged from their ensorcellment, they hurried out of the room, jostling Muna and Sakti in their haste to be gone. “I do not see them lingering in danger for your sake. You don’t think you will be able to defeat the Queen, do you?”

  “Not as I am,” said Muna. “But it was my spell that called her here. I must see this out.”

  “You mean you will submit yourself to being devoured,” said Sakti, “so she will have the Virtu at last, and her powers will be increased tenfold! Your English friends would not survive for long then. She is already incensed against them, and will blame them for having helped us. I beg you will not make a martyr of yourself, kak. You must see it will do no good!”

  It was true, and Muna’s course lay clear before her. A part of her had known what must be all along, but she had resisted it, dreading the prospect, for she had hoped only to sacrifice herself. Even now, with no alternative open to her, she could only bring herself to speak with difficulty:

  “Then there is only one thing to be done, if we are to overcome the Queen.”

  “Oh yes?” Sakti’s lip was already curled, mockery on the tip of her tongue.

  “If we were reunited . . .” said Muna. “If we were Saktimuna again . . .”

  The mockery faded from Sakti’s face. She was silent for a time.

  “Could it be done?” she said.

  With the insight lent her by the Serpent’s magic, Muna could see how it would be done. It would be a simple m
atter, joining two pieces that had been broken apart. “Yes.”

  Sakti looked as serious as Muna had ever seen her. “If we do it, there would be no you or me any longer. Only her.”

  Muna felt a pang of pity. She had had more time to grow accustomed to the idea, so that it distressed her less. She ought to have faced up to it before, instead of springing it on Sakti now.

  “I think she will be a great deal like you,” she said, to reassure Sakti. “The polong said you were the magical part. I am only the material, and spirits are mostly magic.”

  Sakti frowned. “If that is true, there will be no you!”

  “I don’t mind it,” lied Muna.

  “I would!”

  The guests had made it plain they found Muna and Sakti very much in the way of their escape, though being preoccupied they did not do more than brush against them pointedly. When Muna felt a hand on her elbow, she ignored it, till a familiar voice whispered:

  “Muna, you must go!”

  Muna jumped. Henrietta said urgently, “The Queen is stirring even now. She will be furious when she realises you are still here. Take your sister and flee!”

  Across the ballroom the Queen was blinking in the King’s arms, a faint light starting to filter from her head.

  “You should flee,” said Muna to Henrietta. “There is no need for you to be concerned on my behalf. I have the Virtu. What could the Queen do to me?”

  “Don’t be stupid,” said Henrietta passionately. “Recall that Saktimuna had her heart when the Queen cast her out of Fairy!”

  “Hear her!” said Sakti.

  Muna touched Henrietta on the shoulder, meaning to send her away. But to her surprise her magic encountered resistance.

  “This is my house,” said Henrietta. “You cannot think I will abandon it!”

  Still, Henrietta could not fend off the Serpent’s magic for long. Given another minute Muna’s spell would have caught, but they were not spared another minute. The Queen rose, shaking off her consort impatiently.