“When people are given less than their due, sooner or later they’ll take what’s owed, Ketu.”
“You forget yourself, tiger.” The priest still didn’t deign to open his eyes.
Malin stormed out of the chamber without further comment. Let them figure out about the foreigner on their own. The man was no concern of his. If Ketu and Rahu owed him no loyalty, he owed them no better.
The moon would rise soon, Malin could feel it. He could leave the city through the harbor. Become the beast, run through the jungles of Yawadvipa outside Kasusthali. Run and never return. But he would not abandon his people or Chandi. He needed to find her.
It took him a few moments to catch her scent and follow it to the rooftop garden where they had once sat and talked. She sat in the same spot, legs dangling over the edge, chin on her hands. Standing motionless in shadow, he watched her, lost in her own thoughts. Since he returned to Kasusthali, she had seemed despondent.
When Chandi was born, back when Malin still thought Rahu and Ketu had all the answers, Malin had sworn to always watch over her, and Ratna as well. Since their childhood, Ratna’s exotic beauty had always drawn the comments and the eyes of admirers. But Malin was drawn to Chandi, her sense of adventure, her courage. And slowly, she became a woman, and he felt other things as well. His breath came heavy as he watched her in the moonlight.
He approached, not trying to sneak, but she still spun as though startled when he neared. “Chandi. Are you well?”
She turned back to the water and lowered her head to her hands. He knelt beside her, reached out to put his hand on her curved back, but stopped himself.
“You destroyed a nice bed earlier,” she said.
Malin cursed under his breath. She did have a habit of bringing out his temper. Was that the beast inside him, or had he always been that way? He couldn’t remember where one began and the other ended. For too long they had been one and the same. “I will help you find Aji Bidara in the morning. You’ll need my help.”
Chandi sighed, but nodded.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
When Malin offered to accompany Chandi on her efforts to spy on Aji Bidara, she didn’t know whether to be grateful or worried. His nose did make it easier to track the Radiant Queen, but Malin shouldn’t even be in the city. If Naresh found out, Chandi had little doubt what he would do.
Odd that no one tried to stop her from leaving. What had Naresh told them? She’d had to Glamour Malin to get him out of the palace, though. Everyone had taken the Macan Gadungan for an Igni porter.
The effort of the Glamour had driven her to a fainting spell by the exterior fountain. Did anyone else know this was possible? Chandi giggled when Malin woke her. A bout of euphoria held her, afterward, as they walked through the city.
The Temple District seemed the best place to start, so Chandi had sat through the morning service while Malin waited outside. Even if Aji Bidara could have picked her out among all the worshippers, the Radiant Queen had no reason to recognize Chandi. Since she didn’t know the Solar hymns, she mimed singing along until the service ended, then wended her way through the crowd.
She found Malin nearby, harassing a banana vendor. Chandi shook her head as she drifted over. With a firm tug she pulled him away from the vendor. “Find her, Malin.”
Malin put his arm around her shoulder. “We need to blend in.” He guided her around the back of the temple, where she shrugged free from his grasp.
“Your friendship with the Guardsman was quite useful,” Malin said as he stalked closer. “Maybe you shouldn’t cast it off too quickly.”
As if she had any choice in the matter.
In the distance, the Radiant Queen, her outfit gleaming, disappeared into the Circuit to the High District. Chandi had had little reason to visit the High District before, though she knew it housed the wealthier citizens. Ratna had taken Revati on a tour once, the only time Chandi could remember seeing the place.
They lingered in the Temple District until Aji Bidara had slipped from view. Malin’s ability to track her scent meant they didn’t need to risk the Radiant Queen spotting them.
“You’re worried about Ratna,” he said as they stood waiting. Chandi acknowledged with a nod, but didn’t look at him. “Her father wouldn’t really abandon her here in war.”
“You don’t think so?” Hardly a comforting reassurance. Though she had always feared her uncle, she might once have looked up to him. Before Anusapati had returned to the Wheel of Life. Before Rahu had traded his daughter for his schemes. Now, she knew he’d sacrifice anything to accomplish his ends.
Malin shrugged and started down the tube. “I probably know him better than anyone but your own father. I have no love for the man, but he does care for Ratna. He was never the same after Calon died. Your father was like that, too, with Simhika.”
She didn’t answer until they had crossed into the High District. The houses here stood several stories tall; most could pass for small palaces. Crystal sculptures lined the walkways, perhaps scenes from Solar religion. “It seems like you’re not too grateful for what Rahu gave you.”
“Just because someone gives you a gift doesn’t mean they should own you forever.” He pulled ahead, and she followed, until he stopped before a large house. “She went inside.”
The front yard held a garden of crystal statues, people and animals of amazing detail. “If this is her house, Naresh must have grown up here.”
“What?”
“He’s her son.”
Malin didn’t speak for a moment. “You left that out of your report.” When he brushed her cheek with his hand she should have pulled away. Should have, but she didn’t. “He’s not good for you.” The tiger stepped close behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders, his chin by her ear, his long hair brushing her cheek. “I’m sorry for what happened with Anusapati, but even he would have been better than a Solar.”
Maybe. Everything seemed too complicated now. A few steps forward took her from his grasp. “I need to get inside. You should return to the palace.”
Malin shrugged and slipped away. After a glance around to make sure no one was watching, Chandi drew her Moon Blessing and ran up the wall to the roof. The center of the Radiant Queen’s roof was carved from the same glass-like crystal as the domes, letting in lots of light, and, of course, the prying eyes of those that could run up walls. That central pane looked down on an atrium open all the way to the first floor. Dozens of birds of paradise perched around the interior, contained by an almost invisible crystal barrier.
From her vantage, she could see Aji Bidara change out of her ceremonial baju into the one she wore to court. Even through the crystal pane, Chandi could make out the sunburst tattoo. So the Radiant Queen bore the Sun Brand just like the Arun Guard. Except this tattoo seemed larger, as though it might cover almost her entire body.
The Solar lifted her face up, sending Chandi scurrying backwards. Had she seen her? After a few moments she peeked over the pane again and found the Radiant Queen studying a block of crystal, hands clasped behind her back. As the Solar woman reached her hands toward the block, it began to shape and flow like liquid. Chandi pressed her hand over her mouth to stifle her gasp. Even as she watched, the crystal solidified into a perfect replica of an anoa.
With a hand on the statue, Aji Bidara vanished from view, taking the crystal anoa with her. The Sun Stride. A glance over the back of the roof revealed Aji Bidara positioning the statue in her back yard.
Was this how they had built Kasusthali? Sweet Chandra, if the Radiant Queen could grow a city, how could even Moon Scions stand up to her?
And then Chandi’s heart jumped into her throat as she realized this woman, this font of power, glared up at her. Even as Chandi rose, the crystal roof pane behind her turned fluid and crystal tendrils wrapped around her legs. In an instant the crystal turned solid, holding her fast.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Crumpled missive in hand, Naresh hurried through the archway into
the Ministry of Law. Spacious, open, painted warm colors. The holding cells were not as inviting.
“The Radiant Queen brought in a prisoner not long ago,” he told the desk clerk. “I need to see her.”
The clerk bowed deeply, and sent a servant to escort Naresh to the holding cells. The Empire didn’t incarcerate prisoners long term. Anything that couldn’t be covered with fines resulted in exile, or for the worst offenses, execution.
The guard unlocked the door to the cell, where Naresh found his mother glaring down at Chandi. The foolish girl sat in the corner by the cot, her hands bound before her, eyes vacant. His heart clenched at the look of pleading she gave him, fear and hope warring over her face. He’d hardly seen her since that day, and now to see her like this stole his words and his breath.
His mother turned to face him. The windowless cell was painted a depressing brown, highlighting her crimson baju. “We see you received report of the incident at our estate. We assure you, we are well. Leave us,” she said with a wave of her hand. “We must question this Lunar.”
“I never doubted I’d find you well, mother.” He had always found her use of the plural pretentious, even if tradition held she spoke for the Sun God as well as herself.
Naresh looked down at Chandi again, watched her lip tremble. He’d spared her once, Surya knew why, when he should have turned her in for spying. But she didn’t look like a hardened spy now. Much as he should turn and leave, he couldn’t shake from his mind the image of her screaming as they burned her alive. If he let it happen, he’d never shake it. “I’m here for her.”
His mother’s arched eyebrow was her only movement.
“Chandi is a palace servant. A friend.” Naresh was glad his mother watched him so she couldn’t see the tear run down Chandi’s cheek. “I’m sure she meant no harm. She’s a curious girl.”
“She was in our house, Naresh. Curiosity does not permit trespassing.”
“The missive said on your house, not in it,” he said, which elicited another hand wave.
Naresh glared at Chandi for forcing him to this. As if missing an appointment with the emperor were not enough. “I take responsibility for her actions. As the acting head of the Arun Guard I will take her into my custody.”
His mother scoffed. “Do not try our patience, child. Your authority is tenuous enough as it is. Do not risk it over this friend of yours.”
“I have already agreed to take the blame for her transgression. I cannot go back on my word.”
His mother glared at him. “So be it, Naresh.” She paused in the doorway. “There will be a price for this.”
Naresh sighed, then helped Chandi to her feet. With a hand on her wrist he pulled the Lunar along after him, and then signed them out at the desk. Only then did the guard unlock her manacles.
“Thank you, Naresh, thank you,” she said, sniffling.
Though her wrists were free he still pulled her by the arm. “What am I to do with you?”
“Please, Naresh. I need to tell you something. It’s just hard, I—”
“Shut up.” He ushered her through the palace archway and past the guards. Mercifully, she didn’t speak again until he had taken her to her chamber. “You’re not to leave the palace again without my permission. Do you understand?”
She nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me the Radiant Queen was your mother?”
With a hand on each of her shoulders, he shoved her into the room. “Stop it. No more. No more spying, no more prying information. And you’re damn lucky I was acting as head of the Arun Guard, otherwise I’d never have heard in time to do anything for you.”
“I’m so sorry. Please, give me—” His raised hand forestalled her, and she looked down. “How long do you want me to remain here?”
“Until the moon falls from the sky.”
Chandi drew a sharp breath at his blasphemy, but said nothing. Good. “You have no idea what your foolishness just cost me. I’ve staked my reputation on a woman I know to be a liar and a spy. Your infraction will be on my record. I’ve risked my position, everything I have because I couldn’t stand the thought of seeing you burn. But Surya knows you deserve it.”
He shut the door behind him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Malin needed to run through the rainforest, stalk prey, feel the thrill of chasing it, bringing it down. He needed to become the beast and escape the shackles of his humanity.
Instead he collapsed in an alley between two warehouses in the Harbor District. The rain had pounded down all day, but the warehouse eave provided some shelter. Malin kicked his foot in a puddle, splashing water at a macaque hiding under the opposite warehouse. The monkey scurried away.
He had been a fool to leave Chandi this morning. She had seemed so confident, but they had let arrogance get the better of them. He beat his fist against a rain barrel. If that bastard Naresh hadn’t stepped in, the Ministry of Law would have burned Chandi alive. Tried, anyway. Malin would have rescued her. Of course he would have.
But Rahu should never have sent her there in the first place. The War King was out of control. Malin had served his master for many years. Too many. Though prone to paranoia and violent outbursts, Rahu rarely acted so recklessly as he had in sending Chandi to spy on the Radiant Queen. Malin tugged on his long wet hair, wringing out some of the water. Perhaps he would have to split from his master. Perhaps the years of service had paid for the gift Rahu had given him. But Rahu would never see it that way.
With the rain he didn’t catch Bendurana’s scent until the man had already lumbered into the alley. Water ran down the Serendibian’s face and dripped from his twisted locks. Bendurana had removed his baju, and was probably the warmer for it. Malin’s own shirt was drenched and plastered to his skin.
“Ah, Malin,” Bendurana said, shaking his head. “You really did it, didn’t you? You begged me to take you back to Swarnadvipa, and you used my good will to launch an assault on the Astral Temple. Murdered Empu Baradah.” Bendurana stepped closer when Malin didn’t answer. “I see you deny nothing.”
“If I did do what you say, why take it so personally, foreigner?” Malin pushed himself up off the ground, and took a step out into the rain toward Bendurana. His build intimidated most men, though Bendurana was taller.
Bendurana hesitated, but didn’t retreat. “When I came here, they knew I had run with Lunar pirates. They knew about the years as a smuggler after that. Still, Empu Baradah gave me another chance. He treated everyone—”
“He was the Butcher!” Malin lunged forward and grabbed Bendurana by the arms, then lifted him up against the warehouse wall. “Don’t try to tell me how kind and forgiving he was. And you, you came to me. I offered you a home, and you joined the Solars. We were at war, and you joined the enemy, my friend.”
“I seem to recall pulling you from the sea, Malin. Do you know how difficult it is for a ten-year-old to pull a full-grown man onto a jukung in the middle of a storm? When I might have found my father, I saved you.”
Malin smelled no fear on the man, even as he held him aloft against the warehouse. “Oh, so now you’re the noble hero. You only needed a new home because you ruined the last one.” A Serendibian captain, Bendurana had failed in battle, fled when ordered to fight an engagement he couldn’t win. “Lost your commission, lost your betrothed, lost your honor. And I welcomed you, gave you a chance at a new life. And you spat it back in my face.”
Once, Malin had thought to hunt down Bendurana for the betrayal, but when the time came, he couldn’t bring himself to murder his old friend.
The captain didn’t waver, kept his voice level despite the position Malin held him in. “You can’t hold that over my head, anymore, Malin. Empu Baradah is dead, and I don’t care if Naresh learns of my past, he already thinks me a fool and a coward. And after the last time you blackmailed me, I told Landorundun the truth.” Bendurana jerked his arms out suddenly, catching Malin by surprise and breaking his grip. “And she accepted my mistakes, accepted me. Do
you have anyone that would do that for you?”
Malin glared a moment, then, when Bendurana turned to move, swung at him. His fist smashed into Bendurana’s jaw and sent the captain staggering back against the building. Malin bared his teeth but didn’t move in further.
Bendurana reeled for a moment, then spat blood. He rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand. “Ah, Malin, you really are an animal, aren’t you? I’m sorry you feel I betrayed our friendship by working for the Solars.”
“By hunting Lunars.”
“Yes. Hunting pirates. Now I know the sting of betrayal myself, don’t I? I can’t prove it was you, and I won’t say anything about this, but don’t ask me for any more favors, Malin. We’re through.”
Malin watched Bendurana leave. The captain had betrayed him long ago. He shouldn’t care if he lost his friendship now. He stood for a long time between the two warehouses, letting the rain wash over him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The sun had almost set when Chandi’s father returned to his room. She had sat there on a straw mat, in near darkness, waiting for him, almost since Naresh had brought her back from the Ministry. Twice she had gotten up to leave, cursing her foolishness, but each time something forced her to sit back down.
He had been in talks with Rahu and Kakudmi all afternoon. Probably with Aji Bidara, too. What would the Radiant Queen say about the incident this morning?
Her father pulled the door shut, then kicked off his sandals. When he turned and saw her he started, but resumed his calm after only a moment. He lit a candle on the dresser, then sat down on the mat across from her. He would wait all night, she suspected, wait for her to speak—she was the one who came to him.