Children of Sun and Moon

by Matt Larkin



  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, businesses, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental.

  CHILDREN OF SUN AND MOON

  Copyright © 2013 Matt Larkin

  Book 1 of the Skyfall Era

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Edited by Brenda Pierson

  Cover by Juhi Larkin

  Published by Incandescent Phoenix Books

  incandescentphoenix.com

  mattlarkin.net

  For Juhi, under the sun, under the moon,

  Author’s Note

  Children of Sun and Moon is my debut novel, and, as such, it forever holds a special place in my heart. Here begin the adventures of Chandi, Malin, and Naresh.

  Special thanks to my beta readers Amber, Eric, and Quintin, and to Brenda who went above and beyond the duties of any beta reader. Thanks also to Doug, Margo, and David for technical support, and to my editor Steve for all the hard work. Thanks to Chris for final proofreading, and to Robin for her amazing graphic design work. And especially to Juhi, for never-wavering confidence in me.

  (1191 AFTER PACT)

  CHAPTER ONE

  Word came with the tide the battle had gone badly. Chandi would grieve for their losses, of course, but Anusapati was alive, was returning to her. The first sailors back had told her that much.

  So she stood on the cliff with her cousin Ratna, watching the sea in the early moonlight, as they had done every night since the ships left for Astral Shore on Puradvipa. Chandi bit her lip and paced back and forth, running her fingers over the pearl statuette in the palm of her hand. A carved rhino Anusapati had given her.

  “I’d feel the same if my betrothed were sailing to me,” Ratna said.

  How many countless nights had they spent here, fantasizing over that? Ratna, more beautiful by far, not to mention the War King’s daughter, should have found a husband first. But her cousin didn’t say it.

  Chandi adjusted her bodice wrap. She’d bought the brightest white kemban she could find for this moment. Every little detail had to be just right for his return. She tucked the statuette into her sarong—the skirt patterned with white jasmine to match the kemban. “How do I look?”

  “Same as before,” Ratna said. “Beautiful.”

  Beautiful might be a stretch, but Anusapati had thought her pretty enough to court. A Moon Scion of his prowess could have called on any woman in the Lunar Empire. But he’d chosen her. She blew out a deep breath. He’d chosen her.

  In the distance, dhows threaded through the waters, approaching the harbor below. At night, the cyan sea of the Skyfall Isles turned dark sapphire. Far fewer ships returned than had left to retake the Astral Temple.

  Chandi started to run down the path from the cliff to the harbor. Ratna caught her arm before she’d gone three steps. “What are you doing? You have to make him come to you. He’ll know you’re here, soon enough.”

  With a sigh, Chandi returned to her post atop the cliff, forcing herself not to fidget. Twenty-four ships had sailed from Swarnadvipa to Puradvipa. Well over a hundred Moon Scions and Macan Gadungan, and several thousand soldiers. Unless she’d missed her count, eleven ships returned. Could one more Moon Scion have made a difference? Her father, Ketu, had gone, but ordered her to guard the War King and his daughter.

  Ratna might need protection, but Rahu, the War King, surely did not. To hold the throne, he had to be the finest Silat martial artist in the Lunar Empire. But the War King needed to coordinate the war, so Chandi’s father had led the attack. When Chandi learned her father and Anusapati were both well, she’d allowed herself to relax.

  Allowed herself to forget so many would not return.

  “Do you think Mahesa’s with them?” Ratna asked.

  “I’m sure he is.” Had Ratna heard the hesitation in her answer? “I notice he’s the only one you ask about. Maybe your own wedding isn’t so far off, then?”

  Hands on hips, Ratna spun to face Chandi. “And why not? I’m older than you—”

  Chandi snickered. Ratna was only a few months older.

  “—and my father could gain a powerful alliance.”

  “With little Mahesa?”

  Ratna shrugged without taking her hands from her hips. “Not so little anymore.” She smirked at Chandi’s raised eyebrow. “House Indu has fair influence. And he has a nice smile, too.”

  A boyish grin, maybe. But as often as they had sat in these mountains as girls, dreaming of love and their futures, she’d never deny it to Ratna. Rahu, however, seemed to be saving his daughter for a better match.

  A solitary figure trudged up the cliff path while the rest of the returning soldiers took the mountain road to Bukit. Anusapati’s sarong trailed behind him as he ascended the slope. His breath came evenly despite the steep hike.

  Ratna pinched Chandi’s arm and flashed a wicked grin before wandering down the road back to the city. Chandi patted down her hair and brushed the brambles from her sarong before Anusapati could crest the rise.

  Let him come to you.

  Anusapati caught her eyes as he stepped onto the plateau. Chandi threw herself into his arms before she knew what she was doing. Head on his chest, she tried to think of words to say, but nothing came.

  “A fine homecoming,” Anusapati said, pushing her away to arm’s length at last. His eyes darted hungrily around her face, then lower. “Could be finer, even.”

  Chandi hesitated. “We’ll be wed soon enough, love.”

  Anusapati grunted and stepped back. “So why wait? A wedding is a simple thing. We could do it now. Tonight. I’ve returned. All I should have had will be mine.”

  “Let the people grieve their losses, then we can arrange a proper wedding feast. Once Rahu says it’s time, then you’ll have it all. I promise,” she said, trying to look sultry.

  Anusapati shrugged away from her hand. “Rahu? The King will tell me when I can have what’s mine? Oh, but that’s not how we do things. No, no. The strongest rule the Lunars.” He chuckled under his breath, spinning around, then thumped his chest. “The strongest. Why should I bow before Rahu?”

  Chandi backed away, shaking her head. No. No.

  “The fool sent us to Puradvipa with little plan. He started the war with the Solars. But I’ll finish it. Unite all the Skyfall Isles under Chandra. Under me. With you at my side, my queen.”

  Chandi felt her lip tremble and struggled to bring it under control, shutting her eyes for a moment. This couldn’t be happening. They all heard the stories, but it didn’t really happen, did it? Not to him. “I’ll make preparations, my love. Wait for me here a phase or so.”

  “Yes, my queen. Prepare everyone for my return. The Voice of Chandra has come to call upon his children.”

  Without taking her eyes from him, Chandi backed away from the plateau and down the path to Bukit. Only when he was out of sight did she turn to face the city. It had grown darker, colder. Empty, despite the people out at night market.

  The Lunar capital lay nestled just below the mountains, in southeastern Swarnadvipa. Stilts supported the houses in lower city near the marsh—the Loghouses, people called them. The palaces in the hills had no need of stilts. The saddle roofs came into view first, like the horns of a great beast rearing its head in the night.

  The largest sat highest on the hill, Rahu’s palace. Chandi struggled to remain impassive as the gate guards waved her on. Much as she wanted to bury
her face in her pillow and hide in her room, she went instead to the courtyard. Rahu was there, as expected, practicing his Silat by the fishpond. His guard dog looked up at her approach. She was one of the few it never growled at. Rahu had brought the animal days after Chandi’s and Ratna’s mothers died, as if it could take their places.

  “Chandi,” Rahu said, without looking at her. “I thought you went to meet the ships?” His venom was probably as much at the failure of his men, as at their deaths.

  Chandi nodded, but didn’t speak. Her uncle turned to her, half scowling. “Anusapati,” she began, then clenched her eyes. “He changed.”

  Rahu tapped a finger on his lips, but said nothing.

  “I think he… he may have used the Moon Blessings too much.”

  She didn’t say the word “lunatic.” She didn’t have to.

  Rahu watched her, expressionless, before speaking. “Are you strong enough to do what needs to be done? Can you serve your family before your own wants?”

  Chandi bowed, hot tears staining her face, then turned before Rahu could see them. “I serve my family.”

  She stopped at her room, pausing before the toyaks hanging on the wall. Malin had given her the rattan fighting sticks when she was ten. A Moon Scion, ordinary warriors didn’t stand a chance in battle with her. Last year, she’d taken six at the same time. Her father had beamed with pride, even her uncle had graced her with a rare smile.

  Anusapati had defeated ten at once.

  Chandi ran her thumb over the rhino statuette he’d given her, before leaving it on the dresser. She tucked the toyaks into the back of her sarong.

  As she left Rahu’s palace, she saw Anusapati walking toward it. Was it too much to ask that he might have waited on the plateau like she told him?

  “You’ve been crying,” he said as she drew near.

  “Because I love you.” She blew out a hard breath and drew her toyaks. “They always say the Moon Blessings have a price. Hard to believe, sometimes. Until it comes to this.”

  Anusapati laughed, but where the laugh held humor one moment, it turned to wrath the next. Chandi recoiled from the fire in his eyes as he assumed a fighting stance. “You dare stand against me, beloved? Then come.”

  Chandi opened herself to the energies nestled within, drew her Moon Blessings, making herself stronger and faster than any human. “Forgive me.” She launched a series of lightning fast strikes.

  Anusapati dodged each in turn, then caught her wrist. With a twist he sent a jolt of pain through her whole arm and into her shoulder. One stick fell from her grasp. Before she could react, his elbow caught her across the face and sent her spinning through the air.

  Her other stick skidded across the ground. With Blessings drawn, she could fight through the pain. As Anusapati approached, Chandi pushed off the ground in a reverse handspring. She landed with legs around his shoulders. In a single motion she swung both hands at his temples.

  Anusapati jerked his arms up, parrying the attack. She kicked off his chest and flew through the air, then drew another Blessing to shift her gravity to the nearest palm tree. She landed on its trunk and stood there, parallel to the ground.

  Anusapati ran and leapt toward the tree, so Chandi jumped to another. Each move she made, he matched. She ran up the tree and leapt to the roof of a nearby house. Her foot slipped. Too steep, even with her gravity adjusted.

  Anusapati launched himself even higher, landing further up the roof. He must have cleared twenty-five feet on that leap. A crowd had gathered beneath them, but no one would interfere with a Moon Scion duel.

  “Betrayal has its price, too,” Anusapati said, launching a string of blows with his hands and elbows. Chandi blocked again and again, losing ground as he pushed her toward the edge. She dropped to her back and caught his leg between hers, then kicked her legs together. Anusapati tumbled down atop her. Chandi connected with several body blows before he got a grip on her. She heard ribs snap from the force of her punches, but in his lunacy Anusapati seemed not to feel it.

  He rose to his feet with one hand on her shoulder and one on her thigh. Chandi braced herself, but he didn’t hurl her off the roof as she expected. He slammed her into it.

  Splinters of wood and straw cascaded around her as she plummeted through the roof and into the house. A shattered support post ripped open her shoulder, sending a wave of fire through her. And then she hit the floor. On impact everything went black for an instant and she lost her Moon Blessings. Without them, the agony hit her full force.

  Gasping, trying to get air back in her lungs, she drew her Blessings again as Anusapati leapt down beside her. Her vision swam, but she forced herself to her feet. Forced herself back into a fighting stance.

  Once, twice, she blocked his strikes, and then he had her in a grapple. He was too strong. Every twist, countered. Every blow stopped. Her head was locked. She couldn’t breathe.

  Drawing her Moon Blessings as hard as she could, Chandi launched a hook to his kidney. Again. Again. Anusapati staggered and dropped her, sputtering and spitting blood.

  Chandi fell hard. She had only begun to rise when he had a hand on her again. He tossed her through the bamboo wall as though she weighed nothing.

  Chandi hit the street and rolled once from the impact. Her muscles wouldn’t respond. He was coming for her. Rage lined his face.

  One of her toyaks rested nearby. She staggered toward it, clutching her sides.

  “Chandi!”

  Everyone turned at the sound. Already, Malin had torn open his baju and tossed it aside. Well, almost no one would interfere in a Moon Scion duel.

  The Macan Gadungan’s muscles rippled as his form shifted from human to tiger. His jaw elongated and fur sprouted all over his body. Only the eyes remained the same. He shifted as he ran, kicking off his sarong.

  Anusapati turned to face his newest attacker. He twisted, dodging the lunge, and smashed his fist into the weretiger’s jaw. Anusapati might have continued to dance, might have held off Malin. But Chandi’s blows to his kidney slowed him.

  Chandi saw the end coming, but Anusapati never seemed to. Malin reared on his hind legs and sunk his claws into the lunatic’s shoulders. The tiger’s jaws closed on the man’s throat and his great weight bore Anusapati down.

  Chandi fell to her knees as her beloved at last stopped twitching. She didn’t see Malin shift back. She didn’t see him retrieve his sarong. Only when he hefted her in his arms did she look at him. Blood dribbled from the corners of his mouth and covered his face, his neck, even his chest.

  Malin was taking her to the infirmary, some part of her knew. The Macan Gadungan was always there, had always been there, serving her family. “Astral Shore,” she stammered.

  “The battle broke him,” her bodyguard said, without slowing or looking at her. “But not before he murdered Ken Arok. The new Solar emperor has sued for peace.”

  Anusapati killed the Solar emperor?

  Peace? After a lifetime of war, she couldn’t quite wrap her mind around the idea.

  CHAPTER TWO

  When morning came, Chandi would lose her cousin. Her gravity shifted against the dhow’s hull, Chandi ignored the sea spray tickling her shins. Her ribs still ached from the beating Anusapati had given her. Her heart ached from the response she’d given him.

  She peered into the cabin’s window. The captain, Bendurana, stood over a chart table, jotting notes in a log. Though dressed like a Skyfall native in baju and sarong, he hailed from beyond the archipelago. Serendib, probably, with his hair in dozens of small twisted locks.

  The sapphire sea spread out before her, close enough to touch it. What would it be like to run on water like the greatest Moon Scions? Would she run now? She still hadn’t found a way to save Ratna. To save either of them.

  It had taken days to reach Yawadvipa, the main Solar island, and to sail along its coast. Soon they’d reach the capital. And with it the dawn, and the end of their freedom. She hadn’t asked to be a spy. Rahu thought they c
ould shatter the Solars from the inside without war, but Chandi had no intention of staying that long.

  The door opened and then closed. The sun-worshippers loved to leave their windows open in the dry season, even on their ships. Chandi glanced inside to make sure the captain had gone, then pulled herself up through the window and dropped into the cabin.

  The place smelled of curry, coriander, and other delicacies from the Spice Islands. Trinkets from around the Skyfall Isles decorated the room: a straight-bladed Solar keris sword, an undulating Lunar keris knife, and an Igni-carved chest. The foreigner might serve the Solars, but he didn’t discriminate in his collection.

  His log recorded having picked up Chandi and her cousin in Bukit several days ago. Before that, months of hunting sugar pirates. Killing her people just like the Solars did. Back and forth she flipped through the pages. Nothing. No sign of treachery. No proof of duplicity that might stop Ratna from marrying the new Solar emperor.

  With a wail of frustration Chandi slapped everything on the chart table onto the floor. The crash froze her in place. If the captain heard her in his cabin, things would not go well for her. Her arms trembled as she raised her hands before her, fingers curled in a fighting stance. Maybe best if it all ended here. But no one came, and slowly her muscles unfurled.

  Dammit, she couldn’t afford this. There had to be something here. Anything. What was she looking for? A letter from a traitor? Secret orders? She knelt beside the Igni chest—locked, of course. She drew her Moon Blessings, giving herself the strength to smash it open. For a breath, and another, she hovered over the chest. But she couldn’t do this without giving herself away. Who knew spying would be so damn frustrating? Instead she ransacked the cabin, scattering the captain’s books and possessions. Let him think the sea had tossed them about. Releasing the Blessings only reminded her of the pain across her side and face.