The Skyfall Era Trilogy: Books 1-3 Page 3

  Everything had changed after Chandi and Ratna’s mothers had died during the Battle of Bangdvipa. Before that, Malin was like a big brother to them, watching over them on their adventures, bringing them trinkets from his victories in the war. After … after he’d been obsessed with teaching them to defend themselves. And Malin had never hidden his obvious pride in Chandi’s bravery and skill and tenacity. He had eventually given up on training Ratna, and even if that had been at her own insistence, it had still stung more than it should have. But Ratna’s Blessings were not a fraction as strong as Chandi’s and trying to learn toyak fighting had only ever earned her bruises and broken bones.

  “What do you want, tiger?” Ratna asked.

  Malin cracked his neck. “We received an envoy. The new Solar Emperor, Ken Arok’s son, has sued for peace.”

  Ratna opened her mouth but couldn’t form a response. Peace? After a lifetime of war, she couldn’t quite wrap her mind around the idea. The war had begun mere months after she was born. She’d never known anything but war. She’d studied the histories, the long period before the Fourth War. The Lunars and Solars had alternated years holding the Astral Temple, with the Lunars otherwise keeping themselves in relative isolation. Was it even possible to return to that? And, after all they had lost, could they afford to do so? Wouldn’t that mean the death of her mother, of Anusapati, of all who had fallen, were for nothing? Of course it would. But to turn down peace now might spell the end of the Lunar Empire. They were losing. The Battle of Astral Shore had been a last, final effort to break the Solar lines and morale.

  “Is my father going to accept?”

  Malin nodded. “He wants to see you both in his chambers. Ketu’s there too.”

  Her and Chandi’s fathers, the brothers of House Soma. Had that been what these meetings had been about? Why hadn’t anyone told her sooner? She scowled at Malin as if it was his fault, then rose, thinking to pull Chandi to her feet. She needn’t have bothered. Her cousin rose on her own, eyes dark enough that Ratna had a sickening feeling about what Chandi intended to say to Ratna’s father.

  “Now is not the time to voice your doubts,” she whispered as they headed for the palace interior.

  Chandi said nothing, just pushed ahead and stormed into Rahu’s chambers. Ratna’s father sat on an imported Tianxian carpet, legs crossed under him, sipping tea as calmly as though nothing had happened. Ketu, Chandi’s father, on the other hand, paced around the room. Ketu had not aged as gracefully as his big brother, his short hair having begun to show streaks of gray among the black, his face wrinkled. And yet, his muscles remained taut. The father trained as hard at Silat as the daughter. In truth, Ratna was the only member of House Soma who couldn’t hold her own in a fight, but at least her father had never looked down on her for it.

  Both men nodded at them as they entered, Rahu’s face a mask of calm, Ketu looking far more stern.

  “You’re not really going to make peace with those bastards, are you?” Chandi demanded before Ratna could even speak.

  Well, that was one way to start this conversation.

  Ratna’s father raised an eyebrow at his niece’s tone and Ratna grabbed Chandi’s wrist, squeezing before the idiot girl could say something else they’d regret. One did not speak such to the War King.

  “We are, yes. This new emperor, Kakudmi, has seen just how far we’re willing to go and it has frightened him. That will make him pliant. So we will grant him an alliance and gain whatever we can from it.”

  An alliance? Ratna wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that. “Obviously we have to take whatever steps we must to preserve our empire,” she began.

  “I’m glad you feel that way, daughter,” her father said. “Because this needs to be an alliance of marriage.”

  Ratna opened her mouth but only managed to squeak. Sweet Chandra, don’t let him be saying what it sounded like he was saying.

  “The new emperor is unmarried, a young man. Giving him a Lunar bride is a show of faith. And that bride must be you, the daughter of the War King. You alone can be his equal.”

  No. Absolutely not. There was no way in Rangda’s frozen underworld Ratna was going to marry Kakudmi or any other Solar. No, she was destined for Mahesa and that was that. She opened her mouth, trying to say so, but the words wouldn’t come. Chandra save her, she’d die before she’d do this. She was supposed to marry Mahesa.

  “You can’t make her do this,” Chandi said, voice detached and faraway.

  Ratna felt like Rangda Demon Queen had ripped out her soul and fed it to her leyaks. This was lunacy. She … she … She blew out a long breath. She’d die? No. She wouldn’t, and who did she think she was, putting her own happiness before the needs of her family? Before those of her people? Ratna was not that person.

  “He doesn’t have to make me do anything,” she said, voice almost breaking. “I’ll do what I have to.”

  Chandi spun on her. “You’re going to make peace with them?”

  Ratna scowled. “Yes, Chandi. I’m going to save the Lunars from further war. I’m going to do whatever it takes to see that no more families and lovers die because of the fighting.” She turned back to her father and bowed. “May I be excused?”

  Her father sighed, then rose and walked to her side, at last putting a hand on her cheek. “I’m proud of you. And don’t worry, I’ll be sending Malin to protect you. No harm will befall you, daughter.” Then he drew her into a quick, uncharacteristic embrace. “Go on. Make your peace with this.”

  Ratna choked down a sob. She was the daughter of the War King. Tears were pointless. She pulled away and bowed again, then ducked out of the room.

  Chandi chased after her. “What are you going to do?”

  Ratna shuddered and braced herself against a wall. “I’m going to do my duty, Chandi. What else?”

  “What about Mahesa?”

  The sound of his name finally spoken aloud was almost more than she could bear. She’d fooled herself. Maybe her father had never intended to marry her off to House Indu. It wasn’t one of the strongest Houses, after all. Had she fooled herself into thinking any good could come of this?

  “Chandi,” she began, struggling to keep her voice level. “Would you do something for me? Would you go and tell him?”

  She would have to say goodbye before she left. She owed him that much. But being the one to break that news to him … No. She wasn’t strong enough for that. She had rarely been strong enough for anything, really. Chandi was the braver and stronger of them.

  But this time, this time, it would be Ratna who would save them all.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The hollow look in Mahesa’s eyes when she told him stuck with Chandi as she worked through her Silat forms. Most times, the exercise and the precision it took was enough to still her mind. Nothing did that anymore. Not since the Solars had stolen Anusapati from her. Not since the war had driven him beyond the bounds of lunacy, surely in desperation.

  She swept her toyaks in wide arcs, spinning rapidly. Five Solars—no, ten!— fell in her dance, as twilight swept over Swarnadvipa. She’d send all those Surya-worshipping bastards straight to Rangda’s frozen underworld. Sweat streamed through her short hair and over her forehead, stinging her eyes. And she welcomed the pain of it. Down on the beach, some distance beyond the palace of House Indu where she had broken Mahesa’s heart, she fought. On and on for what seemed a phase. Until her limbs felt like water, until she collapsed into the sand, gasping for breath and unable to still her raging heartbeat.

  She was a descendant of Chandra, a Moon Scion. The blood of the Moon God pounded through her veins. Why wasn’t it enough? How could Chandra let his children fall before the cursed Solars?

  “The War King summons you,” Malin said.

  Chandi started. How did the damn weretiger always manage to sneak up on her? “And what are you? His errand boy?”

  Her bodyguard recoiled and Chandi immediately regretted snapping at him. Malin narrowed his eyes. Chandi was pre
tty sure most people who saw that sneer were about to be torn to shreds. “Is that what you think of me?”

  Chandi shook her head. Malin would never hurt her, of course, no matter how badly she mouthed off to her former mentor. “No. Sorry, I just …”

  “I get it. And you do not want to keep Rahu waiting.”

  Probably not. The War King did not tolerate anything less than obedience. He’d commanded his own daughter to prostitute herself to a Solar, for Chandra’s sake. And Ratna would do it, the foolish, innocent child, walking right into the den of horrors that was the Solar’s undersea city.

  Chandi sighed, then motioned for Malin to lead the way. She followed him along a narrow path leading back up the cliff and toward Bukit. Most people shunned this path, taking the long way around. It was steep, and especially slick during the monsoons. More than one Lunar had fallen and broken legs, arms, or worse trying to take this route. But then, Malin had been training Chandi in balance for a decade.

  The weretiger led her back through Bukit and toward the Hill Palace where her family reigned over Lunar society. He paused outside, eyes expectant. So Rahu had sent for her alone? Chandi bit back another barb about Malin being Rahu’s loyal servant. He deserved better from her. Instead, she nodded at him. “You’re going to protect her, right?”

  “With my life.”

  Chandi nodded, then headed into the palace. Slaves filled the halls, but parted before her like men fleeing a burning house. Chandi found her uncle in his sitting room, staring at a scroll spread over his desk. It was low, perhaps a foot off the ground, and while Rahu sat on a cushion, there was none on the other side of the desk, so Chandi simply settled down on the floor.

  “Where have you been?” No inflection tinged his voice. If having to wait for her had annoyed him, he gave no visible indication. That could be good—or very bad.

  “Training.”

  Rahu tapped a finger against his lower lip. “Yes. Good. That’s excellent, in fact. How does that progress?”

  “I’m sure as Chandra’s dark side ready to kill some Solars.” Chandi immediately grimaced. She should not have said that.

  Rahu frowned almost imperceptibly. “I suggest you not let Ketu hear you spew such blasphemies.”

  Shit no. Chandi’s father was ever the moon priest and one of the most devout people she had ever met. Sure, she was the child of a god, and that was something few on this Earth could claim. It didn’t mean every word out of her mouth was sacred or anything. Rather than answer, Chandi just bowed her head, acknowledging Rahu’s words.

  “You can’t kill any Solars,” Rahu said then. “We’re at peace, or we’re going to be.”

  Chandi bit her lip and said nothing. Any response she could make to that would only land her in more trouble.

  “That’s what we need them to think, at least,” Rahu said.

  At that, Chandi’s eyes widened. “What are you saying?”

  “I have a special mission for you. You’re going to Kasusthali with Ratna and you’re going to watch over my daughter.”

  “Isn’t that Malin’s job?” Not that Chandi would hesitate to protect her cousin, or even that she’d want Ratna to face this horror alone. But wouldn’t the Macan Gadungan be the better bodyguard? Malin had been protecting House Soma the last twenty years, after all.

  “He’ll be there most of the time, but he has to come and go, bring us news. You can be there when he’s not around.”

  Chandi nodded. As distasteful as going to a Solar city was, it was better than leaving Ratna to face it alone. And if Malin couldn’t remain by her side every moment, well, then Chandi would. And she’d break any Solar that crossed Ratna in half.

  “As far as my daughter is concerned, that will be your only mission in Kasusthali.”

  That didn’t sound good, though Chandi struggled to keep her face impassive.

  “For six centuries the Arun Guard have terrorized the Lunars. A handful of men and women proving a match for the very children of Chandra. This is … unacceptable. But for the first time ever, we have a chance to truly learn about them. The Solars have invited us into their midst, into their secret city. And that gives us an opportunity to learn all we can about the Arun Guard and to take any steps necessary to undermine their power.”

  A hard knot formed in Chandi’s belly and she felt sick. “You want me to be a spy? Isn’t that what you have Buaya Jadian for?”

  “The werecrocodiles have their uses. This is not one of them. It is you I trust to protect my daughter. Go to Kasusthali, pose as her handmaid and do this. And for her safety, she cannot know your true mission, niece.”

  Was this it? Her chance to hit the Solars where it would hurt them most? To break them for what they had taken from her? Rahu had said to undermine the Arun Guard. Undermine them, because no one knew the source or limits of their power. And if she could learn that, if she could disrupt them, maybe the Lunars could achieve the first real victory in the whole Fourth War. Unless she failed. If she got caught, she’d die, and maybe Ratna along with her. But if she refused—assuming that was even an option with Rahu—he would just send someone else. Someone with less interest in protecting poor Ratna.

  He was using his own daughter as a pawn, but Chandi managed to keep herself from saying so. Instead, she rose and bowed. Maybe it didn’t matter what she did. The emptiness inside her threatened to swallow her up like the gaping maw of a whale.

  Rahu offered her a nod of dismissal, and Chandi slipped out of his sitting room, then out of the palace. She wandered the city for a time, drinking in the moonlight, uncertain where she was going, and not really caring. She spun at the sound of someone approaching, then relaxed when Malin stepped from beneath the shadow of a teahouse. At least she’d finally caught him sneaking around.

  “Something troubles you,” he said. “I can smell it.”

  Chandi shrugged. “He’s sending me with Ratna. As far as she knows, I’m there to protect and support her.”

  Malin stared up at the moon before he answered. “I’d be glad of your company. But what do you mean, as far as she knows?”

  “He’s sending me to spy on the Arun Guard, to learn their secrets. Try to break them.”

  “Rangda devour that man’s soul!” Malin snapped. “That is madness, Chandi. How in the Demon Queen’s underworld do you think you’re going to do that?”

  She’d been asking herself the same question. It didn’t matter, she supposed. She’d do whatever it took. “I’ll figure something out. I am going, Malin. I’m going to get what we need, and then I’m coming home. And maybe we can use whatever I find to crush the Solars.”

  Malin groaned. “Chandi … you are so quick to blame them for Anusapati’s fate. But he made his own choices. He chose to abuse the power of Chandra, knowing full well what it might cost him.”

  “They forced him to it!” she shouted, not caring who she might wake, even in the dead of night. “You don’t know anything about being a Moon Scion, weretiger!” Chandi spun and stormed away, not interested in anything else Malin might have to say on the subject.

  Yes, Anu knew the price of his Moon Blessings. And he used them because he had to, because his people needed him.

  And now, Ratna needed Chandi. And she would do whatever it took to protect her cousin.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The harbor beneath Bukit was thicker with ships than Malin remembered seeing in decades. Lunar pirate cabals had made port openly. Waiting. Everyone holding their breath to see how this cyclone would break. If the war would grow worse or if it would finally end. Fear. The place smelled of fear and anticipation. The tiger spirit inside him growled at the thought of dealing with such men. Always did.

  But they weren’t his focus today. Malin stalked up the gangplank to the Queen of the South Sea, perhaps the finest dhow in the harbor. Her captain sat upon the gunwale, whittling away at some carving. Eyes locked on his former pirate brethren, men who would gladly hang the Serendibian by his own guts if not for Malin’s p
rotection. The Queen’s foreign captain, Bendurana, was dark-skinned and wore his hair in braided locks that hung halfway down his back.

  The Serendibian twisted at Malin’s approach, then hopped down onto his deck and swept an elaborate bow. “Ah, Malin. A royal pleasure to see you again, my good man. Tiger. Man-tiger.”

  Malin nodded at him. “The War King has agreed to your emperor’s terms. You will ferry Ratna and her handmaid to Kasusthali and the War King will proceed you in his own dhow.”

  “Ah, well. He’s not really my emperor, Malin. I mean, I’m not exactly a Solar.”

  “And yet you climbed into bed with them. I gave you this ship when you had nothing, and you turned around and started hunting my people with it. How many pearls did they have to offer you to betray us?”

  Bendurana chuckled. “Your adopted people, Maitian. And, technically, those pirates hunted me first. It only seemed fair, indeed, poetically ironic—or ironically poetical, even—to return the favor.”

  The tiger inside crouched, ready to pounce. And Malin did have half a mind to beat Ben senseless for his actions. The Serendibian had switched sides so many times no one trusted him. Maybe that was why he was the one the Solars sent here to make this offer. Or maybe because no other Solar was crazy enough to make port at the Lunar capital. Either way, Malin had to let Ben slide. Malin was in charge, not the tiger.

  Malin cracked his neck, then leaned in close to Ben’s face. “The pirates have been warned off, Captain. But if anything happens to those girls, there is nowhere in the South Sea where I won’t find you.”

  To his credit, not only did the Serendibian not recoil, he patted Malin on the cheek. “Worry not, my overprotective friend. Captain Bendurana is here now, ready to save the day. Or the night.” An exaggerated shrug swayed his locks, clanking the beads in them together. “Twilight. Dawn. Whatever.”

  With a last roll of his eyes, Malin stepped away. Hard to stay angry with the impossible Serendibian. The tiger growled inside him, as if to dispute that fact. But the tiger was always upset about something.