by Claire Luana
Rika struck true. Her blade dropped, burying itself to the hilt in the soul-eater queen’s face. A shower of light exploded from the contact, searing his vision. When he blinked away the brightness, relief flooded him. The queen’s armor had fallen to the deck, empty and limp. Rika fell to her knees, leaning her forehead onto the deck. When she finally straightened, two crystal tears trickled down her cheeks. “Is it done?”
Vikal turned and looked over the deck, praying that their theory had been correct—that without the queen, the soul-eaters would fall. All across the deck, the black-armored creatures were spasming and screeching, dropping to the deck, rolling into the fetal position. It seemed that they had no minds of their own without the instructions of their queen. It would be a simple matter of putting them down. “Almost,” he said, unable to believe it himself. The black-uniformed thralls milled about, rubbing their foreheads and looking about with confusion at their former captors, who now lay prone beside them.
“Come on, fox,” Bahti said to the constellation that stood next to them, its bushy tail twitching.
“I will assist,” Daarco said, motioning to the other constellation with a jerk of his chin. “Let’s finish these creatures so they’ll never hurt anyone again.”
Vikal turned back to Rika, weary to his bones. He didn’t need to watch the extermination of these creatures. He’d had enough killing for a lifetime. He crouched down beside her. “Can you stand?” he asked.
She shook her head, stumbling back onto her rear, leaning against the rail of the upper deck. “I think I’ll sit here for a moment,” she said, tilting her head back and closing her eyes. Vikal sat beside her, stretching out his legs, taking her cold hand in his. She squeezed.
The two silver-haired women sat down on either side of them, leaning back against the rail with a groan, laying down their weapons.
The woman next to him had smooth skin and freckles across her nose, but her hazel eyes were deep and knowing. She wore her exhaustion like a fine cloak, regal even smeared with blood and covered with a sheen of sweat and dirt.
“You must be Rika’s mother,” he said. “Nice to meet you.”
“You must be the one she was waiting for,” she replied.
His cheeks heated and he looked down at Rika, barely conscious, her head leaning against his shoulder. “I should have been here sooner.”
“You made it. That’s all that matters. I’m Queen Kailani Shigetsu. But you can call me ‘Kai.’”
“Vikal,” he replied.
“And I’m Emi,” the other woman interjected, her scarred face shining in the moonlight. “If you hurt her, I’ll be the one who comes for you.”
Vikal’s eyes widened. Perhaps she was joking? But the woman had a certain ferocity that made him not want to cross her. “I do not intend to hurt her,” he said. “Not again, anyway.”
Emi nodded. “As long as we understand each other, we’ll get along just fine.”
Vikal looked down at Rika, her eyes still closed. A ghost of a smile danced on her lips. Yes, they’d all get along just fine.
CHAPTER 36
RIKA’S RIDE BACK to Yoshai passed in flickers and glimpses. It was all she could do to cling to consciousness, to keep feeding her energy to the constellations that were finishing off the remaining soul-eaters. The one steadiness was Vikal’s presence next to her—carrying her down the stairs into the rowboat, lifting her into his arms as they stepped back onto the sand of Kitina. Vikal gently brushing her hair off her forehead, running his thumb along her temple. Finally, she heard the words her soul had been longing for, praying for. “It’s done,” he said. “Rest now.” And she did.
Rika awoke in her bed in Yoshai, sunlight streaming through a crack in the dark curtains. The down of her bed felt luxurious and heavenly beneath her aching body. Everything about her room looked the same. The gauzy canopy over the bed, the lacquered wardrobe covered with soaring cranes, her bookshelves piled with astrology notebooks and journals. It was as if the past weeks had been a dream. Strange and horrible at times, powerful and heady at others. She squinted in the darkness, and her gaze fell on a figure sleeping next to her. Her heart stuttered. Vikal. Sitting in her armchair, dragged over from the fireplace to her bedside. He snored gently, his head tipped against the brocade wingback of the chair. No, it wasn’t a dream. Rika’s hand strayed to her forehead, where she ran her fingertips across the marking of her tattoo.
Vikal looked so peaceful; she didn’t want to disturb him. But her stomach growled and her bladder urged her to emerge from the warm cocoon of her bed, so she threw back the covers and tiptoed to the bathroom to relieve herself. When she returned, wrapping herself in a colorful silken robe, Vikal was just beginning to stir.
She sat on the bed facing him, watching the dark of his lashes flutter against his cheeks as he groaned. He was as exquisite as a statue, too handsome to be fair. Her lips tingled at the memory of their kiss, of the heat and salt of his mouth pressed against hers, his hands firm on her back. Had it been a moment of madness birthed by the heat of battle? Was their connection some imagined thing manufactured by danger and adrenaline and mortality? True, they were soulmates according to legend, but was that real? Was it what her heart felt?
Vikal opened his eyes, the lemongrass green of his irises meeting hers. A jolt of heat burned through her—awareness and anticipation. He smiled sleepily at her, and all reason fled. All she wanted was to see that sleepy smile every morning for the rest of her life. There was no denying what her heart felt.
“You’re finally awake,” he said. “How do you feel?”
“Good,” she said. “Refreshed. Starving, though.”
He chuckled, stretching his arms out, arching his back. “I’m not surprised. You slept for the better part of two days.”
“Two days!” Rika squeaked, shooting to her feet. “Where’s my mother? What’s going on? Are any of the leeches still fighting? Is Cygna okay?” The last she had seen of the night sparrow, it had been grievously wounded in its battle with the queen.
“Relax,” he said. “We did it. The last leeches are dead. Cygna survived and has returned to the stars to mend. The thralls are all free. A little confused about where in creation they are, as most of them are Nuan. But your mother and her council have been distributing food and arranging temporary housing. She is a very efficient monarch. A little scary how good she is at handling everything, actually. I could learn a thing or two.”
Rika sank back onto the bed in relief. “Yes, my mother always made being queen look easy. As a kid, I was certain I’d never measure up.”
“That is not the case anymore. You should hear her go on and on about how proud of you she is. It is almost like you saved your entire nation singlehandedly.”
Rika blushed. “Not exactly singlehandedly.”
“Perhaps not, but do not discount your contribution. You are a more magnificent goddess of bright light then I could have ever imagined.”
Rika’s blush deepened. “Thank you for coming, Vikal. All of you. If you hadn’t…”
“I should have come from the beginning. I promised.”
“I released you from that promise. I understood why you stayed. You needed to protect your people. Were you able to defeat the soul-eaters? Did everyone…make it?”
He shook his head. “Everyone but one. Sarnak. He used his powers to hold the cavern and all our people out of time until we could arrive. They killed him for it.”
Rika closed her eyes. Sarnak. Another man who had felt like a father to her, albeit briefly, dead. He had been an infuriating, but wonderful, teacher for their short time together. “I’ll miss him,” she finally said. “But it sounds like his sacrifice saved many.”
“It did. And in Nua, we do not mourn the passage of a god. Not really. We celebrate their life and what they accomplished in this incarnation. He will be back.”
Rika smiled wryly. “Can you imagine Sarnak’s grumpy face on some tiny baby body? His poor parents.”
&n
bsp; Vikal laughed. “I hope I am alive to see it.”
“Me too,” she said, but the words stalled in her mouth. She pursed her lips. She wasn’t Nuan, even if she was their goddess.
Vikal stood and in one swift step came to sit on the bed by her side. When he intertwined his fingers through hers, her body came alive with awareness of his presence. “Rika,” he said. His voice was tentative, unsure.
She wanted to encourage him. “Yes?” she asked.
“It will be time for the gods to leave soon, to return to our people. And before I do, there is something I must say. I do not have much to offer a woman. A half-burnt island across a universe of stars. A scattered people, shell-shocked by war and death. A heart so deeply scarred that I thought…I thought it would never be whole again. Memories that I do not want to forget, but that I am ready to set aside. So they no longer own me. These things are a meager offering for a goddess blessed by the heavens themselves…” He trailed off, raising his gaze to hers. Her breath was tight in her throat, but she didn’t respond, letting the silence stretch between them. She needed to hear. Needed to hear how he felt. That he chose her. That he wasn’t just a god giving himself over to the whims of fate.
He continued. “What I can offer, however, is my love. Because you have brought to life a part of me that I thought was long dead and buried. What I thought was only darkness is light once again. I love you, Rika. I’ve loved you from the moment you, a tiny scrap of a woman, looked a soul-eater in the face without a trace of fear in your eyes and destroyed him with purifying fire. I did not see it for what it was until I almost lost you, and you hovered near death in the caverns. And even then, I was too afraid to feel it, to let it be true, until you were gone, sailing away and I realized I could never deny what is between us. It is as deep a part of me as my arm or my totem or my magic. I love you, Rika, and I hope beyond hope that despite all my foolish missteps, that you might love me too.” The words had tumbled out, faster and faster, until they were all spent. Finally, Vikal looked up, gauging her reaction. “You are crying,” he said, raising his hand to wipe away one a tear.
She nodded. “I love you too,” she whispered. “Sure took you long enough.”
A wide grin split Vikal’s face, and he took her other hand in his. “You do? Truly?”
“Truly.” And then she kissed him.
After an instant of surprise, Vikal wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against him. Her heart sang with the rightness of it, the taste of him, the heady elixir of passion and possibility. His tongue expertly parted her lips and his hands tightened as they ran up her back to tangle in her hair.
She lost all her moorings, her thoughts swept away in the delicious tide that was Vikal. All she wanted was him, more and more until she knew every part of him, every bright space and dark place alike.
She melted into him, hooking a knee up to push him back onto the bed, but her momentum was cut off by a knock on the door.
Vikal broke off their kiss with a gasp. “Should we get that?”
Rika pouted. “They can come back later.”
Another knock. She sighed and broke off the embrace, wiping the corner of her lips, which were pleasantly buzzing from Vikal’s ministrations.
“Come in!” she called, straightening her robe.
“It’s so dark in here,” Koji said, striding into the room. “What were you two doing?” He crossed the room and threw the curtains open.
Rika squinted, raising a hand to block out the sudden influx of light. “Sleeping?” she retorted, her heart hammering in her chest.
“Whatever you call it.” Koji smirked. “I’m glad you’re awake. Saves me the trouble of shaking you back to life. Mother wanted me to tell you that you have two hours until Father’s wake. She wanted you to have enough time to get ready before sundown.”
“Wake?” Rika’s soaring heart thudded back down to earth.
“We were so busy defending against the soul-eaters that we haven’t had a chance to honor him. Tonight is the full moon; Mother thought it would be best.”
Rika nodded. “I’m glad I’ll be able to be here.”
“Me too,” Koji said. “It wouldn’t have been right without you.” Koji stood awkwardly for a moment before turning to leave.
“Thanks, Ko,” Rika said softly.
He nodded, closing the door behind him.
Vikal stood, taking a step back. “I will let you get ready. Perhaps we can talk after this wake?”
“You’re not coming?” Rika asked, grabbing his hand, trying to keep the disappointment from her voice.
“I did not know your father. Except…” He trailed off. Oh, yes, she remembered. When he helped the soul-eaters kill him. “I want to be respectful,” he finished.
Rika thought for a moment. She wanted Vikal at her side, but she wasn’t sure how her mother would feel. “Perhaps it’s best if you don’t attend. I’ll find you after.”
He nodded, standing. “I understand. I should check on Kemala and the others anyway.”
Rika walked him to the door, not wanting him to go. It was a silly sentiment, she told herself. They would only be apart a few hours.
Vikal hesitated. “I will see you soon, dewa,” he said before leaning in quickly and kissing her on the forehead. He disappeared out the door.
She leaned her head against the door jamb for long after he was gone, her skin tingling from the touch of his lips. Dewa. For the first time since this mad adventure had begun, she liked the sound of that.
CHAPTER 37
HIRO’S WAKE WAS held in the great temple in Yoshai. After Vikal had left, Rika bathed, braided her hair, and scarfed down a quick meal the servants had brought her. She moved through the motions like a ghost, her mind firmly fixed upon its dilemma. Could she really leave Kitina forever? Give up being queen—the role she had studied and prepared for her entire life? What would her mother say? Would it break her heart to have her daughter leave so soon after losing her husband? Would she think it was a foolish gamble, to leave for a man Rika hardly knew?
Rika opened her wardrobe and selected a white dress embroidered in gold. As she pulled it on, she pushed thoughts of Vikal aside. It wouldn’t do for her to be distracted, not tonight. The memory of her father deserved her undivided attention.
Rika had always thought the temple was one of the grandest spaces in the city, but tonight, it blazed even brighter with light from thousands of candles. Its soaring ceiling, inlaid with gold and silver celestial scenes, glimmered above their heads. Those scenes were familiar to Rika now, those constellations beginning to feel like friends. They didn’t just watch over the people of Kitina from a dispassionate distance. They had saved them. Fought for them. Fought for her. She couldn’t wait to get to know them in the calm of peace. Their personalities, their quirks. She could sense that each was unique. But if she left, would she ever have that chance?
Rika walked up the polished aisle between the rows of guests. The temple was packed to bursting with people—everyone had streamed back into the city when they’d heard of the defeat of the soul-eater queen and her hordes. Sunburners in full red and gold armor, silver-haired moonburners, nobles in glorious colors. Tears pricked at Rika’s eyes. This was her father’s legacy. The love and devotion of everyone he’d met.
She settled into a seat in the front row between Koji and Nanase, who gave her a tight hug. “Good work, Rika. I knew you had it in you.” As she settled back, Koji took her hand in his and squeezed. She looked at him in surprise, and he offered a smile. It seemed that the soul-eaters had changed him, too.
Rika’s mother ascended onto the dais between larger-than-life statutes of the gods Tsuki and Taiyo. She wore a white gown with billowing sleeves, her waist wrapped in a white obi. The lunar crown was woven into her silver hair. She held up her hands to quiet the crowd.
“We’re here to honor the life and death of my husband and your king. I like to think that Hiro died like he lived—without regrets. He died with honor. F
ighting to protect us, his people. To give us the chance to barricade our gates against the storm that was to come. He died to give his children a chance to escape from that same fate and return to us with the key to defeating the greatest foe we have ever encountered. He would ask us not to mourn him. But to celebrate the exceptional life he lived.”
One by one, people came forward to tell a story or a tale of Hiro, how he had lived. So many Rika had never heard; she had never known that her father had made those impressions. When it was her turn, she couldn’t find the words, so she asked those attending to follow her outside into the warm spring night. When everyone had gathered, she cleared her throat. “I don’t have the right words to tell you what my father meant to me. He was always there for me. Even when I thought I knew better or pushed him away, he would be there to pick me up when I fell, or to kiss the pain or sorrow away. That’s who he was. A protector, a guardian, a friend—and the best dad. I don’t feel like he’s gone. He will always be there, watching over me. Watching over all of us. His family, the people of Yoshai and Kitina, the burners whom he loved. I can think of no better way to honor my father than to give him a place in the heavens, so he will truly, always be with us.”
Rika had been planning it out in the hours before the wake, unsure if she could even do what she was about to attempt, if the stars would cooperate. But she had reached out and stroked the threads and found willing stars, those who were eager to be part of something more—something bigger. So she opened her third eye, and reached for the heavens, gathering stars to her, pulling them across the sky into a patch of inky blackness that would be the constellation’s new home. She formed the stars into an image of an armored man with a sword, a lion at his side. When it was done, and her father’s likeness winked at her from the sky, she turned and walked back to her mother’s side.
