Screams come from the upper floor, followed by the unmistakable crack of a whip. I study my bindings, wanting them off even more than before. The screams stop first. The whip goes on several more strikes.
Enlil speaks, his voice colored by revulsion. “Tarek can never return to the mortal realm as the man he was. His mind is wrecked. Does the commander know?”
“Who’s to say what that mortal understands? Our bargain is binding.”
“As is mine with Kalinda,” says Enlil. “Let us go. You will never see either of us again.”
Irkalla glances indirectly at him. “Your living flame irritates me. You may go. The Burner stays.”
“I’m not one of your followers,” I say. “I’ll never serve you.”
Irkalla swings her head so close her whiskers nearly jab me. “Do you know what becomes of bhutas who die in my realm?”
I grit out my response. “They suffer an eternal death.”
“Ah, but that is a mortal’s fate. What will become of you?”
Enlil’s jawline bulges from clenching his teeth.
“He did not tell you?” Irkalla’s insidious mocking frays my nerves. She indicates Edimmu returning from upstairs. “Edimmu was once a Galer, Asag a Trembler, Lilu an Aquifier, and your old friend Udug? He was a Burner.”
I must have misheard her. These demons—these monsters—were bhutas?
“Young soul-fire is more malleable. Once I have the bhuta children, I will raise them up as my fledglings and integrate them into the evernight. My army will be unstoppable.” Irkalla’s big red eyes reflect my horror. “You are more skilled than Udug was. You will be my greatest general yet.”
Enlil’s radiance stings my vision. “You will not pervert her.”
“I will improve her.” Irkalla lowers her head even more, her horns forward like a bull’s. Her foul breath is hotter than the desert sun. “My army is coming, and they will need a leader.”
Enlil blasts apart the weakened stone spike and rock confines with an internal heatwave. Irkalla rears back and roars. Edimmu shrieks and runs off, her scales smothered in flames. Irkalla lands, her thunderous impact quaking the palace.
The fire-god scoops up his spear and leaps in front of me. “You may not have Kalinda. I staked a claim on her soul.”
Cala and I balk. He claimed me?
“You lie,” Irkalla says shrilly.
“I swear on the sun, moon, and stars, Kalinda is mine. Thus, you cannot claim her without declaring war on the gods.”
“You deceive me. She loves the mortal man.”
“Kalinda,” Enlil says, “tell her you wish to spend eternity at my side.”
“You must not lie or I will know,” responds Irkalla.
Enlil is trapping me. Even if I lie successfully, I will be trading one set of shackles for another.
“Tell her,” he presses.
Let me speak, says Cala.
This better work.
I listen for Cala’s prompting and then repeat her truth. “My heart’s wish is to dwell with Enlil forevermore.”
The queen of the dead canvasses me for weakness. Cala cringes and pushes as far from the present as she can without disappearing. I stay close to my love for Deven and hold firm.
“Truth resides within her,” Irkalla says, declaring her judgement, “but Kalinda herself tells a falsehood. Her soul is more Inanna than Cala, and Inanna loves the mortal man. Thus, she belongs to no god.”
I don’t belong to Enlil. My life and heart are mine, regardless of Cala’s affections.
Irkalla sweeps the fire-god to the side with her claw. Asag and Lilu spring at him. Enlil launches lightning bolts at the pair. Lilu leaps behind a pillar, and Asag blocks the assault with boulders.
I melt the cuff at my wrist first and reach for the binding high on my right arm. Irkalla wedges my neck between her talons.
“I will make you perfect,” she hisses.
She stabs her longest talon through my center. My soul-fire flashes and dies out. Lagging heartbeats strum into my bones. Enlil bellows like a thunder crash and shoots lightning at the queen of the dead. I do not see if it connects. The evernight ambushes my soul and snuffs out my star.
Sunshine eases me from my slumber. My parents come into focus. I am nestled between Yasmin and Kishan, hugging my mother and grasping my father’s hand. I close my eyes again and soak in the serenity.
“Kalinda, you must wake,” my father says.
Mother strokes my back until I stir. The sky is aquamarine, soft-hued yet effulgent. We are seated on a downy lounge in a rhododendron garden. Yellow butterflies explore round clusters of white blooms. This must be the Beyond. It is even more spectacular than Ekur.
“Kalinda,” Mother says, “you cannot linger.”
I run my fingers through her hair, marveling at the silkiness. “You don’t want me here?”
“We’ve never been more content, but your path is not finished.”
Father ducks his head near mine, his eyes mirrors of my own. “For too long you have questioned your potential. Do not waste another moment agonizing. You are a warrior. You were born to shine. Embrace how powerful you truly are and carve your destiny from the sun.”
A distant urgency plucks at me. My soul has come to the Beyond, but a tether ties me to my physical form in the under realm. I cling to my mother. “I don’t want to leave.”
“Your father and I will be close. The rest of your family and your friends need you.”
“You have all you need to defend them,” Father says.
I lean into him. “What if I fail?”
“No matter how bleak the world may seem, or how mighty the night, dawn always comes.”
I grip him harder. “I love you both.”
Mother caresses my hair, my own fingers tangled in hers. “Whenever you need us, look for your inner star.” She touches my forehead between my brows, forewarning me to seek her and my father within. “We’re with you.”
The far-off tugs intensify to sharp yanks. Enlil calls to me. It’s time.
One more minute.
My father presses his lips to my forehead, and my mother holds me closer. I indulge in their presence and sketch this memory on my heart. The pull of mortality strengthens. My parents’ warmth changes into tearing-hot pain.
Something heavy hammers at my chest. Air inflates my lungs.
I gasp as my head jerks up. I hang from my bindings, faint and woozy. Enlil melts the final chain with his spear. My legs falter, and he throws me over his shoulder.
The hole in my middle is healed. I’m alive.
Cala still lodges inside my head. Enlil saved us.
The fire-god races for the main entry of the throne room. We pass Asag and Lilu on the ground. Burn marks riddle their bodies.
Irkalla blows venomous fire at our backs. Enlil outruns the blaze and throws a single white flame at her. It lands on the ground and instantly grows. Irkalla and the rabisus recoil from the glare. As the blaze expands, the color deepens to a rich blue, and its shape transforms into a dragon.
The cobalt dragon is solid and real, not built of fire like Siva. Her scales have a pearly sheen, and her eyes are just as vibrant. Although the living flame dragon is shorter and less stout than Irkalla, Enlil’s creation springs at her. They lock jaws and tumble across the throne room, smashing through two pillars. Rubble rains from the ceiling. I hang on as Enlil dashes outside and down the palace steps.
Rabisus and two ugallus block our route. Our dragon bellows and then breathes white flames at Irkalla’s snout. The queen of the dead lurches back, her whiskers on fire. Her rabisu troops hasten to her aid. The ugallus prowl in front of the exit to the city.
Enlil sets me down. “Wait here.”
I totter but stay upright.
The ugallus crouch to pounce. Enlil swings his spear and slices at the nearest one’s maned neck. It goes down yelping. The second swipes its claws at his side. Enlil rolls closer and drives his spear up through the ugallu’s chest.
He returns and helps me limp to an alley outside the grounds. Irkalla’s roars tremble the pebbles on the road. I lean against a wall and look back. Inside the palace, rabisus dangle from our dragon’s neck by their jaws. More besiege her flank and snap at her hind legs.
Enlil checks my middle, front and back. No signs remain of my attack.
“How did you . . . ?”
He pulls me into a hug. “It is as I told Irkalla. I laid claim to your soul.”
Some part of me must care for Enlil. Whether that fragment belongs to Cala or dwells within my heart, his loyalty restored me. For that, I can overlook his omissions. Enlil hoped I was just like Cala, yet even Irkalla discerned that I am not. I cannot forge my love for him or be the woman he wishes.
A bellow pulls us apart. Irkalla accosts our dragon with a steady stream of fiery breath. The cobalt creation staggers sideways and topples. Irkalla stomps her talons down on our dragon’s head, standing on her, and locks her jaws around her neck. The dragon stills and vanishes.
“Bring them to me!” Irkalla screeches.
Her rabisus bound down the palace steps.
“We’ll never get out,” I say.
“We will.” Enlil whistles and sprints. I barely keep up as he darts past buildings and down roadways. Howling rabisus pursue us. Enlil stops at one of the taller structures. “Go inside and climb to the top.”
The first room inside the building is packed with wanderers. They stare mindlessly at the walls, floor, each other—me. I slip between them and inadvertently bump into one. My contact sets off a ripple of activity. They revolve toward me and grasp at my clothes and hair. I rip free and push them off, searching for a stairway. Enlil bursts inside. A rabisu leaps through the open door, and he fells it with his spear.
“This way!” He beckons me up the stairs.
Above the city, we see the rabisus filling the roads and surrounding our building. Enlil and I stand back-to-back, mindful of our footing. The rooftop is riddled with holes to the main floor far below.
Rabisus scale the outer walls and climb over the edges. Enlil bangs his spear into the floor, and a tidal wave of heat explodes, leveling the rabble. I cough in the aftermath of smoke and char. Sections of the unstable roof smolder.
Enlil points his spear at a blazing arch speeding toward us.
His chariot and horse.
“Kalinda, go to the ledge!”
I run into the cleared section. Rabisus swarm up from the stairwell. Several fall through the floor gaps, while others block my route. Smoke stings my eyes. It is too hazy to battle with my daggers, and I am too weak to summon my powers. Enlil hews down a fair number of rabisus behind me, but they continue to multiply.
Siva, I need you.
Tendrils separate from the scattered flames left from Enlil’s heatwave. They combine into a whirling blaze larger than a cicada or lynx kitten. Siva grows into a scrappy dragon the size of a full-grown tiger.
My fire dragon plants herself in front of me. I climb on her back and pat her neck, resting against her. Her nature-fire warms me and loosens my muscles. Reenergized, I draw my dagger. Siva awaits my command. She is too small to heft my weight in flight, but she can run.
Get them.
She bounds into the fray. We pummel through the teeming monsters, dagger and talons slicing. At the ledge, I kick a rabisu and it plummets over. The chariot flies alongside the roof. I leap off Siva onto it, and Enlil barrels after me. Rabisus jump on and hang from the wheels. Enlil jabs them loose and snatches the reins.
“Siva!” I wave for her to join us.
“You have to leave her!”
Siva snaps her fangs at the mangy rabisus. She jumps off the ground, trying to reach me, and dozens more pile onto her.
“Go!” Enlil commands his horses.
Chaser and his team take off. I watch for Siva’s escape. The rabisus mob her, smothering her flame. But my fire dragon is born of nature-fire. She will rise again.
I settle next to Enlil at the helm. “I thought you said we would be expulsed for cheating.”
He sets his lips in a grim line.
Oh gods, Cala and I exclaim as one. Enraging the Void is risky, but any course that leads to the mortal realm merits an attempt.
The chariot flies above the palace spires. Irkalla roars below, and storm clouds gather. Shards of night appear in the gray sky like demented bolts of lightning. The jagged spears take shape into rows, resembling serrated teeth in a vicious maw.
“Prepare to be expulsed!” Enlil says, steering for the open muzzle.
I clutch him as we fly directly into the razor jaws of the evernight.
35
ASHWIN
Arching my head toward the opening of the rolled-up rug, I work twice as hard to breathe. Every mouthful is a battle. I am entombed by my bindings and confines, stifled and beaten by the heat.
Thoughts of asphyxiation loom, so I focus on the cadence of the camel’s stride. The rocking goes on and on. My captors have yet to stop.
As I am taken farther from the palace, it is hard to forget the day I spent leaning out the window of the carriage, watching the horizon for my mother. At least then I had hope that she might come. Few know that I am gone, much less my destination.
Sand works its way into the rug, dusting my hair and ears. Lokesh gave me almost the same punishment I gave him. I have no confusion about the difference. Mine was a banishment, his, an execution order.
The rocking stops. A camel grunts, and my world drops. All goes motionless, then I am hauled up and thrown to the ground. I roll to a stop, shedding my rug. A wind sprays hot sand over me. I spit out the granules and squint through the blazing sunshine at the outlines of two guards. One of them cuts my bindings.
I push onto my knees, my wrists chaffed and raw. “Don’t do this. Don’t let Lokesh hang the princess. She’s innocent.”
The closest guard’s headscarf hangs open, his expression pitiless. “She’s demon spawn. Her very existence is a sin.”
“Please.” My father would whip me half to death for begging, but I must get to Gemi. “I’ll reward you and your families. I’ll give you anything you want.”
“My father was crushed by a Trembler and left to rot. Anu willing, you’ll die slowly.”
His foot reels back to kick me. I turn my head, and his boot connects with my ear. I cradle my splitting skull, my vision flashing in and out. Eyes covered, I wait for the pounding inside my head to dull. Moments later, with ears still ringing, I heft myself up.
The mercenaries and all three camels are gone.
I stagger into the wind after their tracks, shielding my eyes from the dust cyclones. The winds sweep away the trails. The men and their mounts have vanished between the dunes. I keep after them, guessing their course. Every direction appears the same, but if I put the sun to my back in the morning and walk toward it in the afternoon, the heavens will lead me west.
I trudge up a dune, into the sun. Several times my feet sink up to my ankles. Sand slips inside my boots and rubs against my heels. Before long, sunshine seeps through my tunic and heats my shoulders. I have no cloth to spare to protect my head.
At the crest of the next dune, I pause. The desert rises and dips endlessly. I start down the other side and climb another rise. Then another. Each time I reach the top, more dunes fill my path. Sweat pours into my eyes, changing the sand to sticky grit.
As I flounder up another dune, the steep slope gives way and pitches me downward. I tumble to the bottom in a heap of dust. A gust spatters more sand over me. I shut my gritty eyes and let my tears wash them clean.
I should have never given Lokesh a chance. Lords alive, did Tarek know he’s my older brother? I am still his kindred’s firstborn and rightful heir, but Lokesh embodies the warped values of our father, the customs so many of our people love.
Lokesh is who I would be had I stayed.
The realization comes at me sideways. My mother made the hard decision to send me far away. She
gave me a gift—the opportunity not to become like my father.
Lokesh never had that chance. Tarek tarnished him and everyone else he subjugated under his rule in Vanhi.
Why should I fight for my city? My people will never change. I could abandon Vanhi and let the desert have me. The probability that I will return to the palace on foot is negligible, yet pretty pale-gold eyes consume my thoughts. Gemi could be the kindred of my heart. I brought her here to Vanhi. I idealized this political transition, not fully considering her feelings or my people’s reaction. Everything that happens to her is my fault.
“Gods,” I pant, “whichever of you is listening, you know I’m not much for praying. But don’t you let Gemi die. This is my fault, not hers. Do you hear me?”
A gust blows more sand in my face. Coincidence? Or condemnation for making demands? I get up and trudge onward into the sun.
The horizon is a sepia blur, barren of anything or anyone. I slog up another hill, ignoring my blisters and parched tongue. My prayer may not have been heard, but uttering my motivation for surviving has given me a boost of strength. I cannot lose Gemi.
At the top of the dune, I glance back to judge my progress and spot two mahati falcons off to the east. I rub at my eyes, questioning my sight. When I look again, they are still there, sailing nearer. The one in the lead is . . . Chare?
She circles overhead, confirming my identification. Tinley waves from her saddle as they land. I wave back and fold over to catch my breath.
Tinley jumps down and bounds over to me. “I heard you nearby and couldn’t believe it.”
Heard me . . . ? She must have overheard me threatening the gods.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
Chief Naresh and another young woman land behind us on the second falcon. The chief tosses me a water flask. I chug the warm, clean drink while he responds. “We were on our way to your wedding when the wind carried a warning to us that the palace has been occupied.”
“A former army commander has taken control.” I wipe at my wet mouth. “He opposes my choice of viraji and means to hang Gemi.”
The Warrior Queen (The Hundredth Queen Book 4) Page 24
