The Warrior Queen (The Hundredth Queen Book 4)

by Emily R. King

  I gape down at Deven. He looks and feels the same, but he is not. “Will he . . . will he remember me?”

  “I cannot speak to his state of mind; however, he is the same soul he was.” Enlil withdraws from the bedside, his movements slow and heavy. “I must return to the Beyond and report my happenings to Anu. He will have questions.”

  “Are you in trouble?”

  Enlil smirks. “No more than usual. Do not fret, Kalinda. You are regaining your independence. No longer must you rely on me as your guide.”

  “You’re leaving right now?” I ask, Cala’s sadness mingling with my own. “Cala hoped you would stay.”

  The fire-god wipes ash from my cheek. “We had beautiful lives together, Cala. More happy moments than there are shells on the seashore.”

  I love you, Cala whispers.

  “She says she loves you.”

  “And I love her.” Enlil grasps my chin and his voice softens. “You will always be my sunrise.”

  “I’ll miss you,” I reply, in sync with Cala.

  “You will live on in my heart. We had our time, and it was unforgettable.” He kisses my mouth, his lips soft as petals. I allow his nearness one last time for Cala. “I will cherish you forevermore, my dearest. My champion, my queen.”

  He separates from me and steps over a piece of broken mirror glass. I consider my reflection. Somewhere in my mind, Cala is staring out at me.

  Thank you for allowing me more time with him, Kali.

  I couldn’t have done this without you. Where will you go?

  Back into your memories. Be content.

  She sounds wistful. We cannot touch, so I send thoughts of hugging her. She passes them back.

  Farewell, Kali.

  Good-bye, Cala.

  She relinquishes the control she has on my faculties, untying her memories, thoughts, and will from my own. The second she is detached, she sinks inside me. The domain in my mind expands wider as she drops deeper, diluting into my soul-fire until we burn as one.

  A knot in my neck unravels. My reflection appears the same as when Cala was with me, yet I will never look at myself again without thinking of her.

  I revolve toward Enlil. “She’s gone.”

  “You were very kind to her. Not everyone would have managed these circumstances with your compassion.” Enlil extends his hand, and a new lightning spear materializes. “I should be going. I cannot change your mind?”

  He refers to his invitation to dwell with him in Ekur. “My decision isn’t in my mind, it’s in my heart. And hearts are difficult to change.”

  “That they are.” Enlil traces my knuckles. “You gave me a gift I will never forget. More time with Cala was a mercy. You owe me nothing, Kalinda. Consider your debt paid.”

  A horse whinnies. Seen through the hole in the wall leading to the balcony, Enlil’s chariot suspends in the sky, waiting for its rider. I go to the horse team and pet Chaser’s nose. He nickers and nudges his head against my shoulder.

  Enlil wanders over to us. People in the city gather to gawk at the deity. Perhaps now they will give up their foolish ideas about bhutas.

  “How did you bring Chaser back?” I ask. “Never mind. You’re a god.”

  One side of Enlil’s mouth ticks upward and then swiftly drops. Neither of us can bring ourself to part ways.

  I take Cala’s medallion from my pocket and slip it over his head. “To remember our journey by.”

  He grasps the medallion and presses it to his chest. “I will think of you fondly, my dearest Kalinda.” His great arms enfold me, and he kisses the spot he cleaned on my cheek. He embraces me until my skin glimmers to mirror his. When he lets go, the luster fades.

  “Will you be all right?” I ask.

  “Of course. I am Enlil, Keeper of the Living Flame.”

  I let loose a dry chuckle and pat Chaser farewell.

  Enlil steps onto his chariot. He snaps the reins, and his horses charge upward over the city. Citizens all over Vanhi stop to witness the ascension of the fire-god’s chariot shrinking into the desert night.

  A groan sounds behind me. I dash back to my bed. Deven is just as I left him, only he has managed to wedge one of my many silk bed pillows under one of his knees. I pull it away and adjust the covers. His warm brown eyes home in on me and he frowns.

  Enlil, let him remember me.

  He contemplates my wrecked chamber, his bewilderment deepening. His attention returns to me. “Kali? I had the strangest dream about your parents.”

  A laugh-sob bursts from my lips. I lie down and lean my head against his shoulder, resting my hand over his healthy, beating heart. I have so much to tell him that I cannot decide where to begin.

  He drifts off again, so I snuggle into him and let him rest. He said everything I need to know.

  39

  KALINDA

  I clench the passenger’s bar and smile despite the precarious side-to-side cadence of the howdah carriage. The box carriage with a red silk canopy is tied to the back of an elephant. Children run alongside us, keeping pace with the gentle beast’s patient lumber.

  General Yatin patrols ahead on horseback, clearing stragglers from the roadway. The onlookers cooperate, moving aside for the army general in his dress uniform. As I near, they cry, “Burner Rani,” in praise.

  Gods, what a difference time makes.

  The imperial procession winds through the packed roads, my view swinging with my ride. A canopy shields me from the midday sun, and a dry breeze whisks away my perspiration. The rest of the procession leaves the palace after me and snakes through the packed roads.

  On their own elephant behind mine, Ashwin and Gemi wave from their howdah, both dressed in finery. The people’s cheers grow to a roar for their prince and his viraji. They have gone from despised intendeds to celebrated rulers in three moons.

  Ashwin has doubled his efforts to rebuild Vanhi. The southeast district is nearly complete, which eased tensions somewhat. Mostly we have Enlil to thank. The chapel altar is littered with burned sacrifices day and night for the fire-god. He must feel so smug. One appearance to our citizens, and suddenly the Brotherhood temple is full of worshippers.

  The fire-god also contributed to the empire-wide reacceptance of me as a champion rani. Our public embrace before he flew off on his chariot revived the rumor that I am Enlil’s hundredth rani reincarnated. I have advised my friends and family not to dissuade the gossip. Wherever Cala is, she, too, is smiling.

  We round a corner. The howdah tips, then rights itself. I leave my grip on the bar and wave at a child below. I rarely wear my prosthesis anymore, but Indah added carvings and jewels to this one. Today is my first time showing it off.

  We pass Little Lotus Inn. Natesa bends out the top-floor window, brandishing a headscarf and blowing kisses to Yatin. Two moons ago, they wed and moved here. Natesa complains regularly about how busy they are. She is very happy.

  Soldiers open the gates to the Sisterhood temple. Yatin stops outside them, monitoring the crowd for suspicious rabble. The last of Lokesh’s mercenaries have gone underground. As the public becomes more accepting of bhutas, the likelihood of an insurgence of dissenters lessens.

  My elephant enters the courtyard and halts. I climb down onto a temporary stairway, and a handler leads the elephant off. The sisters and wards are lined up outside the temple, hair brushed to a shine and skin scrubbed clean. Priestess Mita stands by the steps, Healer Baka beside her. A couple of my art students wave. I return their quiet hello, earning a glower from the priestess.

  Gemi and Ashwin enter the courtyard, the people’s adulations ushering in after them. A servant assists them from their howdah. Halfway down the staircase, Gemi kisses Ashwin full on the mouth. The crowd hollers with enthusiasm.

  Ashwin tugs at his high collar, embarrassed. The princess leads him to me.

  “Viraji,” I say, bowing. “You’ve stolen the empire’s heart.”

  “Hopefully we can maintain this approval after our wedding,” Gemi say
s, twisting her shell earring nervously. She draped her sari so her scarred arm is visible. No one would guess she was not a sister warrior.

  The whole city is abuzz about their wedding. When the datu arrived for the original date, he was perturbed the ceremony was postponed. His daughter explained that she and Ashwin wanted more time together. Thus, she remained while her father returned to the Southern Isles. The datu will come back for the real wedding, the evening of the next new moon.

  More attendees arrive, the rest by horse, camel, or foot. The ranis and children come in as a big group. Shyla and Rehan are mixed in with the rest of Ashwin’s siblings. The ranis have been nattering nonstop about the wedding gifts they are making Gemi. As the prince and princess welcome each of them by name, I nearly miss Indah and Pons’s entrance.

  Jala is tied to Indah’s front with a cloth binding. I shake her little fist and smooth down her hair. She grins, her top two teeth sticking down like a bunny’s.

  Oh, do I love that sweet face.

  Tinley leads in the bhuta trainees. No one in the crowd at the gate spits or boos. They cheer just as loudly for them as they did for me.

  And well they should. Those who saw Enlil also witnessed the bhuta children battling demons, which raised questions about why they would do so if they were, in fact, demons themselves. Those who lived in the empire before Tarek rewrote our history flocked to the Brotherhood temple to learn about bhutas as half-gods. Since this collective epiphany, the number of palace guards is up, and the general phobia of bhutas is diminishing.

  The people’s fickleness sets my veins on fire. Ashwin often reminds me this is the change we wanted. Acceptance of bhutas is the true return to tradition.

  Giza and Basma run ahead of Tinley. The Galer is visiting from Paljor, her current primary residence. Maida asked Tinley to come home and help her lead. Ashwin calls the sisters the frozen fist of the north. Instead of arguing with each other, they advocate for their tribe. The prince always emerges from their trade meetings wholly drained.

  My Burner students run to stand by me. They straighten as the last of the procession comes in, the all-female guard. Eshana rides a camel at the front of her unit. Ashwin assigned her as captain of two dozen women who alternate shifts with the other palace guards. Eshana’s service helps to distract her from grieving for Parisa. I was saddened when Ashwin told me of her demise. Little will heal the knowledge of her death other than time.

  At last, Deven and Brac approach on horseback, the conclusion of the procession. Deven’s broad chest fills out the navy-and-silver tunic. He rides at ease, his sword slung at his side. I have yet to adjust to him not wearing a uniform. Deven did not feel right about displacing Yatin as general, so he accepted an advisor position, acting as a liaison between the army and the prince.

  Deven dismounts and kisses me in welcome. His trim beard brushes my skin, his sandalwood scent mild. The Burner girls giggle and make room for him at my side.

  Separate from the procession, Mathura and Chitt arrive. They have stopped traveling to spend time in Vanhi with us. Deven thinks they will reside here now. Natesa and Yatin come in last and find standing room at the back of the audience. People on the streets fill the temple gate to listen. I pause to absorb the view of my friends and family.

  We are all here.

  Ashwin strides up the temple steps. The priestess passes him a cone amplifier.

  “Citizens of Vanhi,” he begins, “we’re honored to gather today at the completion of the first Sisterhood temple in the City of Gems. Before the priestess dedicates this sacred home, I would like to say a brief word about forgiveness. As the brethren of the Parijana faith taught me, our godly purpose is to learn and grow into the greatest versions of ourselves. Along our way, we inadvertently and, at times, intentionally hurt or offend those in our path.” Ashwin speaks out to those in the roads and on the rooftops. His voice embeds within me. I am touched by the care and delivery of his words. “All of us have someone to forgive. Perhaps it is someone we love or someone we hoped would do better. I promise you, as we seek the finest versions of ourselves, the gods will give us strength and hope to believe in goodness. I will lead you in this journey as I aspire to become the rajah the empire rightfully deserves. Gods be with us.”

  Ashwin passes the cone amplifier to the priestess. We applaud, Gemi beaming at him, and he swiftly rejoins her side. Priestess Mita and the head priest of the Brotherhood temple proceed with the ceremony.

  I eye the temple wards dressed in their blue robes. Before when I used to see them, I could only think of the purpose behind all my teachings—preparation for the Claiming.

  None of these girls will experience that humiliation.

  The temple priestesses across Tarachand unanimously agreed to do away with the ritual. Even Priestess Mita acquiesced after she heard about Ashwin’s educational advancements. Gemi has been instrumental in the formation of these policies, using what she learned in the Southern Isles as a foundation. A new curriculum is in development for the wards. When they come of age, they may work in education, science, history, arithmetic, and the arts. Looking at them, tears brim in my eyes. They may choose who they become as they rise in strength together. The sisters will continue to teach them the godly virtues and train them in the sparring ring. Some wards may elect to join the all-female guard or the Sisterhood. They have so many paths to choose from, I can scarcely imagine how they will decide.

  I am sorry I will not be here to view all their achievements, to see what the city becomes with their talents nourishing its future. Vanhi may finally suit its name as the City of Gems and deserve the reputation as the stronghold of the Tarachand Empire.

  Deven’s fingers seek out mine. “Kali, it’s done.”

  I join the closing applause. Healer Baka offers the benediction, and then the temple is open for touring. Children dart about the courtyard, playing. Deven and I seek out the refreshments for a chunk of ice to cool ourselves. Tinley rushes over.

  “We’re playing toss the coin.” She grabs Deven by the arm. “You’re on my team.”

  She drags him off. He looks back, shrugging. I saunter over to the sparring circle and stand around the perimeter with Ashwin. Within the ring, Deven and Tinley contend against Gemi and Brac in a children’s game.

  “Your speech was moving, Your Majesty,” I say. Ashwin ducks his head modestly. “Have you settled on your honeymoon?”

  He cheers for Gemi, then answers, “Out of the nine places we picked, we whittled it down to . . . nine.” He tousles his hair, bemused. “Gemi wants to visit them all. I haven’t the heart to tell her no. Can you and Deven stay until we return? I would feel more comfortable knowing Brac and Natesa are not left unattended. Lords know what I would return to.”

  “We can stay,” I agree at once. Deven and I have organized a trip to Paljor before we survey the lower Alpanas for a piece of land to settle on. My mahati hatchling, which I named Chaser, is old enough to live with us. Tinley said she will grow happier and healthier in my company. I am certain I can write to Maida and ask her to bring Chaser along during her next visit.

  “I’ll speak with Deven as well,” Ashwin says. “I know he’s looking forward to leaving the city.”

  I wear a tight smile, but his attention has already returned to the game.

  Gemi and Brac have collectively flipped the coin the highest. Tinley finishes her turn, accomplishing an impressive height. Deven must achieve a coin toss half as tall as hers for his team to win.

  He steps into the middle of the ring and kneels beside the coin. Hands on each side, he slaps the ground. A pillar shoots up, lifting the coin above his head.

  The crowd cheers. Deven pats Brac on the back, beaming. He outtossed his brother.

  Gemi removes the coin from the pillar and shows the bhuta trainees. “See what Deven did? This is why you should practice.”

  The first day back on his feet, Deven joined Gemi and the Trembler trainees for lessons. We had discovered almost immediately which
bhuta powers he had acquired. While bedridden, he had dropped his spoon over the side of the cot. Before I could collect it, the floor had shot up and delivered it for him.

  Brac calls for a rematch. He will play until he wins.

  This could be a while.

  “I’m going inside,” I tell Ashwin.

  He sneaks in a quick kiss on my cheek, then sends me off.

  I navigate the crowd inside the quieter, cooler temple. I bypass the chapel and go to the back stairway. The area is closed and dim. I pluck flames from the line of wall lamps. They spin together and form a lynx kitten.

  Siva gazes up at me from the floor. I set her on my shoulder, and we sneak down the stairway. The lower corridors of the temple are half-done. I enter the biggest classroom, the art room. Pails of tiles and mortar are set around for a project I designed. I want a tile mural of the Alpana Mountains. The execution is taking longer than anticipated, but the result so far is spectacular. I shut the door to the classroom.

  Siva jumps off my shoulder and sits in front of it. She sniffs around and finds a broken piece of tile to chew on.

  “You shouldn’t be down here.”

  I reel on Deven. “Are you going to tell the priestess?”

  He strides up, his hands tucked in his trouser pockets. “Consider this your second offense of sneaking around the lower level of a temple.”

  “Well, then.” I pretend to slip past him, and he snags me. “I like your new uniform. It makes you look taller.”

  “Does it?” After he realizes I am teasing, he asks, “Why are you down here?”

  “I was hoping the prince’s advisor would follow me so I could be alone with him.”

  “Does he know about this scheme?”

  “He’s about to.” I arch my chin, our lips close. My lighthearted mood evaporates. I cannot kiss him without first expressing my thoughts. “I like it here, Deven. I enjoy teaching the wards and trainees. My students are so talented at their drawings, and Basma is starting to get fevers. Brac wants to plan for her Razing before it affects her health. And Jala is still little. I want to be here when she says her first word. I miss the mountains. I do. But I want to stay in Vanhi.”