Children of Sun and Moon

by Matt Larkin

  To his credit, Bendurana kept his face blank, but Malin could smell the scent of fear on the captain. “Blackmail, Malin? Isn’t that beneath you?”

  It was beneath him, and Rangda take Bendurana for pointing it out. “You should have stayed with us. Why join the Solars after all I did for you? But your life was yours to choose. If you like the life you have… Is that a woman I smell on you? A Solar woman?” Bendurana didn’t answer, so Malin continued. “Perhaps love was not lost to you forever after all, Captain. I’d hate to see you separated from another lover.”

  Bendurana hesitated, his normal bravado cracking for just a moment. “Malin, you know I would wish to help you, my friend. We both know I owe you, but these tactics dishonor you.”

  Malin gritted his teeth. Perhaps Bendurana was right. He would have disdained Rahu or anyone else for using blackmail to get what he wanted, much less on someone he once called friend. But Bendurana was not the only one that had forever lost someone. “I may have a new buyer in Bukit for goods from the Spice Islands.”

  Bendurana nodded. “That will make this easier to sell the crew on.”

  Malin turned away. He had Bendurana now.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “You’ve finally gotten your big chance to prove yourself, Naresh,” Landi said. “And here you sit, planning a party.”

  Naresh glanced up from the pile of scrolls on the table, gave Landorundun a cold look, then returned to his papers. “I’m also in charge of Ibu Ratna’s security, Landi.”

  He sat in the Arun Guard mess hall, trying to ensure nothing would surprise him tonight, thinking he would have privacy here. Early in the afternoon, no one came here. Usually. “I could find something for you to do.”

  “You’d like that. Giving me orders.” She sat across from him, then brushed her hair from her face. Hair down, silk cerulean baju, she’d turn more heads than usual. “Did you dream about pushing the rest of us around while you were at the Astral Temple?”

  “Mostly I dreamed about coming home.”

  “Pak Empu Baradah gave you a great honor, making you guardian. And you don’t seem to appreciate it. Not that you appreciate anything, since everything’s always given to you. Like now.” She waved her arms back as if encompass all Kasusthali. “Just given to you.”

  Naresh slammed his fist on the table and rose to his feet. “I, at least, have things to do today, Landi.”

  As he stormed out of the mess hall he plowed right into a startled-looking Chandi. The Lunar girl fell to the ground, and scampered backward. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  “I… I was just coming to find you.” She stopped backing away, but didn’t rise.

  Naresh relaxed and stepped closer, offering a hand. During the week since Empu Baradah had left, Naresh had spent a lot of time with Chandi, talking about everything from architecture to cuisine. “You’re not supposed to be in here, Chandi.” When she grabbed his hand he pulled her to her feet.

  “Sorry. I just…” She glanced around the room, perhaps watching Landi behind him. “Since I hadn’t seen you all day, I thought you might be here.”

  Naresh felt Landi’s eyes on his back. “Come on,” he said, not releasing her hand. “Ibu Ratna plans on taking Revati to the Academy tonight. They’re performing the Harvest Dance.”

  She nodded as they walked out of the larger mess hall used by the palace guards. “It’s the first year I’ve been able to talk her into attending. She thought… well, maybe we both thought, we shouldn’t get too involved in the Solar faith.”

  “It’s not hosted by the Children of the Sun. The Ministry of Information manages the Academy, and the Academy hosts the Harvest Dance. It’s a celebration of music and life.”

  “That’s something worth celebrating. I suppose it’s just a coincidence it falls so close to the Armistice Festival.”

  “I think the Armistice date was chosen because this is a joyous time of year for my people. Perhaps Rahu thought we’d be most amenable at such a time. Maybe he was right.”

  She released his hand when they reached the stairs to the fourth floor. “I’ll get Ratna and Revati.”

  Naresh nodded then leaned against the wall to wait. One of the palace guards had seen him walk hand in hand with Chandi, but looked away when Naresh met his gaze. Naresh sighed. No rule said he couldn’t have Lunar friends.

  Naresh began to tap his foot. Chandi had been gone rather long. As he glanced back at the stairs, he’d have sworn the palace guard was watching him again.

  At last he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Chandi carried Revati in her arms, Ratna following behind. Chandi and Revati both smiled, while Ratna seemed to either fight for a smile, or fight against one. “Sun warm your face, Empress.”

  Ratna nodded then motioned for him to lead on. Naresh guided the ladies through the city to the Academy District. The sun had begun to set, but today, a plethora of smokeless torch poles lit the Academy grounds. The sounds of wild drums and shouting filled the dome long before they passed through the Academy gates. Once this place had been home. Once.

  Thousands of flower wreaths lined the Academy walls and the towers. The scents of fresh fruit, roasted meats, and sugary desserts drifted across the grounds. Between the three Academy towers, a cadre of students tossed flaming batons, spinning and whooping, undulating and shouting. A large number of drummers surrounded the fire-dancers, setting the rhythm.

  Despite his planning, the place was barely controlled chaos. Revati cheered and ran off, Ratna chasing after her. Naresh scanned the grounds, spotting his Arun Guardsmen where he had assigned them. With a wave of his hand he motioned Lembu Ampal after Ratna and Revati. Regular soldiers slid into position where the Guardsman had been.

  Chandi turned about, taking in the performance. “It’s like a marriage party.”

  “What?” Naresh almost tripped. “This party?” Far too wild for something as solemn as a marriage.

  Chandi strolled through the grounds, sampling the fruit drinks and pastries offered by vendors around the plaza. Naresh followed, but kept his eye on Ratna. He may have assigned people he trusted to her, but she was still his responsibility. Chandi paused to watch the throng of people that had begun to dance. The dancers whirled and leapt, losing themselves in the rhythm as much as the fire-dancers. Chandi swayed in time, as though mesmerized.

  Revati started for the fire-dancers, and Naresh took three steps toward the girl before Lembu Ampal ushered her back to her mother. When Naresh turned back, Chandi had joined the other dancers. In moments, Chandi had lost herself in the dance, leaping and swaying with amazing agility. Her sarong and her hair flew out to the sides as she spun and twirled. The torchlight created an ever-changing maze of light and shadow across her face, across the kemban tight over her chest, over legs partially bared by her flying sarong.

  Naresh shook himself, forced his attention back to Ratna. The empress too watched her handmaid, though in this light Naresh couldn’t read her face. He followed Ratna’s gaze back to Chandi. The Lunars must have this kind of dance often for Chandi to have taken to it with such ease.

  He had danced with Landi like this once, on the Harvest Dance. For students at the Academy, the Dance wasn’t just the highlight of the year, it was an event they spent months planning. Not a musician, he hadn’t been as involved in planning as Landi, but it had meant everything to her. They had held hands, whirling in firelight, perhaps creating their own maze of light and dark while outsiders looked on. Strange that his fingers still remembered the texture of her hand, after so long.

  Chandi met his gaze, saw him watching her. He tried to look back at Revati, but Chandi rushed over to him. Before he could speak, she grabbed his hands and pulled him over to the dancers. Like a fool, he couldn’t keep himself from joining her. This was what the Harvest Dance was supposed to be. A celebration of music and life. He had forgotten to celebrate either for years.

  Chandi’s skin felt flushed to his touch and her breath came heavy, but her eye
s and face were radiant. Her hair often obscured his vision of her face as she twisted, but he couldn’t take his eyes away from her.

  Over Chandi’s shoulder, he saw Landorundun watching them. The Guardswoman stood with her arms crossed, taking in the entire grounds, watching Ratna and Revati, watching him and Chandi, watching for danger. Doing everything he should have been doing. Naresh let Chandi drag him into another dance.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Naresh circled around Landorundun, each trying to position the morning glare against the other, each holding their keris ready. Landi had left her baju unbuttoned low enough to expose a hint of cleavage. If she thought it would distract him, she was mistaken.

  She twirled her sword, reflecting light around the garden. Let her show off. Naresh Sun Strode behind her and shoved her forward. She rolled with the shove, Striding behind him as she rose from the roll. Again and again he parried her furious swings.

  A half dozen of the Arun Guard had gathered to watch them spar, and he planned to give them a good show. They knew the two of them had been spoiling for a fight in the two weeks since Empu Baradah had left. Landi chafed under Naresh’s authority, probably they all did. Maybe they all wanted her to win. But she wouldn’t.

  Her eyes glowed with sunlight, the Sun Brand giving her superhuman speed. To keep pace with her he had to burn the energy of his Sun Brand, turning the match into a blinding dance. She overextended and he countered, slapping her arm with the flat of his blade. “All this time, so eager to prove yourself, Landi. Can’t you do better?”

  “First’s not here to watch over you now, Naresh,” she said, backing away. “Better be careful you don’t get in over your head.”

  “When I’m over my head you’ll be drowning.” He ran at her, then dove and rolled when she Sun Strode. She had begun to swing already, not anticipating his evasion. His counterattack should have caught her thigh, but she Strode again, coming behind him and tearing a shallow gash in his shoulder.

  Their dance became a series of Sun Strides punctuated by the occasional ringing parry. And then he got a hand on her shoulder. He Strode straight up into the clouds, taking her with him. Fear and rage washed over Landi’s face as she kicked away from him, but it didn’t stop her from swinging her keris.

  The wind ripped past him, stealing his taunts, as they continued to parry, falling faster and faster. The cold moisture of the clouds washed over him, left him shivering. Landi no longer had her sword, though he hadn’t seen her drop it. Whatever she shouted at him, he couldn’t hear, but he felt a kick to his ribs. End over end they plummeted, trading blows. He realized he was laughing. A glance down revealed the people in the garden coming into view.

  Landi had managed to wrap her arm around his shoulder, then Sun Strode again, pulling him along, switching their orientation. She shifted their momentum enough that they hit the water at an angle, rather than the solid impact that would have shattered bone. They tumbled apart, inertia carrying Naresh well out into the sea.

  The salty taste of the water filled his mouth and shot burning through his sinuses. He slammed into something hard and smooth beneath the surface, felt his shoulder go numb, felt himself sliding downwards. The dome. His feet couldn’t find purchase to kick off the slick crystal. His lungs would explode. One last desperate shove and he pushed off, flailing upwards. Half blind, he breached the surface, choking and coughing. For a few breaths he treaded water, barely able to use his right arm, then began to swim back to the garden. His father’s sword, the keris he was wedded to, now rested somewhere at the bottom of the sea. He couldn’t even say whether he lost it on impact or before that. He fought a fit of coughing. He had lost his honor over this, a foolish stunt.

  As he drew nearer the palace, Lembu Ampal spotted him and Strode into the water beside him. An arm around Naresh, the Guardsman Strode back to the rooftop. Whatever his rescuer might have said, Landi sent him scurrying away.

  “What in Surya’s name were you thinking?”

  Naresh remained on his hands and knees in the garden, glaring up at her through the wet hair hanging over his eyes, willing himself to stop coughing. Landi’s hair had come free of her ponytail, hanging about her chest and back, leaving her looking as waterlogged as he felt.

  “Why didn’t you Stride to safety sooner?” She glared at him, then grabbed him by the front of his baju and pulled him to his feet. For a moment their eyes locked, then she ripped open his shirt, pushing it back to examine his shoulder. Naresh didn’t stop her; he knew what she was looking for, and what she wouldn’t see. No luster remained in his sunburst tattoo. He had completely drained his sunlight. “You couldn’t have brought us back down. You might have killed us both. For all Pak Empu Baradah thought you’d grown, you’re still a reckless child!”

  He slapped her hands off his shirt and walked away, though he didn’t get far before one of the other Guardsmen intercepted him. “Pak Naresh. Bendurana is here. He insists on seeing you.”

  Naresh groaned. Just what he needed now. “Well then, send the good captain up.”

  Landi moved by his side. But he had no right to order her away, even if he was in charge for the moment. That she had been right only made things worse.

  The captain of the Queen of the South Sea sauntered over to them, bedecked in a bright red and gold baju and blue sarong. The Serendibian almost always dressed like a Solar, but he would never be one of them. His swagger might have been from too long at sea, but Naresh wouldn’t put it past him to affect it just to add to his mystique. The captain’s grimace became a crooked smile when he saw him and Landi.

  “My Arun friends,” he called, spreading his arms as though for an embrace, despite them being soaked. “I had no idea I’d find such entertainment on my return to Kasusthali.”

  “Sun warm your face, Captain,” Naresh said.

  “Sun warm your face,” Landi repeated.

  “And yours, Guardsman. And Guardswoman.” The captain bowed before Landi, then nodded at Naresh.

  “Well, Captain?” Naresh said. “Caught more pirates and seeking the reward? Or are you having trouble with your own palm sugar shipments?” Naresh would be damned if he’d let the man take up his whole morning.

  “I was indeed hunting pirates, Guardsman, and doing a fine job of it, as always. But then,” he glanced about the garden, “only the Arun Guard present here? Good. When I made port in a fishing village on Puradvipa, I found word spreading of dire news. Weretigers have overrun the Astral Temple. I found a witness, to be certain, then came straight here.”

  Naresh didn’t realize he’d moved forward, but he had his hands on Bendurana’s shoulders. “Losses?”

  “All, as near as I can tell. The military, the scholars, clergy. All. Unlikely the werebeasts took prisoners. I’ve heard sometimes they get carried away and even feast on their victims.”

  “Empu Baradah?” Naresh’s voice shook.

  “Everyone.”

  He released the captain and stumbled over to the bushes, fell to his knees. Not possible. He vomited. Empu Baradah could have taken a dozen weretigers alone, and he had two other Arun Guard with him. And Surya knew how many soldiers to call upon. After so many wars, Temple security was always tight. The Lunars couldn’t have prepared for his presence.

  He wiped his mouth. Someone brought him some water. He rinsed and spit before swallowing the next gulp. He stood. He turned. Lembu Ampal stood beside him, the big man trembling like a child, though he took the water goblet back.

  Bendurana had his arm around Landi. She had tears in her eyes. Was leaning on the scoundrel. The captain managed a sad smile and looked to Landi, but every other eye seemed to be on Naresh.

  He swallowed and shut his eyes. The sun beat down on his face. Red glare seeped in through his eyelids. “Captain. Go back to your ship and await orders.”

  “I don’t take orders from you.”

  In one Sun Stride he could have the captain begging for his life. Not that he could Stride now. He clenched his fists.
“Then go back to plundering salvages.” He moved toward the stairs, then addressed the rest of the Guardsmen. “I will inform his Radiance.”

  Naresh had to steady himself on the wall on his way downstairs. This should not have been allowed to happen. Empu Baradah had gone to reinforce defenses they shouldn’t have ever needed again. Kakudmi had hoped Lunars might one day be allowed back in the temple.

  “A foolish capitulation,” Empu Baradah had called it. And now because of it Empu Baradah had returned to the Wheel of Life. The thought wouldn’t quite settle on his mind.

  Without a body, they couldn’t even perform a proper Selamatan for Empu Baradah. The man should be interred beneath the Temple of the Sun. Instead, he was lost. Perhaps his ghost would haunt them all for their failure.

  The Lunars had betrayed the truce. And only one Lunar could have known where Empu Baradah was bound. For almost two weeks she’d followed Naresh everywhere.

  “What was the Academy like? What was it like joining the Arun Guard? How many Guardsmen are there? How did your people build an underwater city? Why?”

  Every day she had some new fascination. And how many of them had she shared with Malin?

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Chandi had spent less and less time with Ratna in the two weeks since Empu Baradah and Malin had left, but if anyone noticed, they said nothing. Since Naresh had a prior engagement this morning, Chandi planned to make it up to her cousin. Not that Ratna seemed to mind—she had taken to raiding the Academy library for reading material. Chandi doubted the custodian wanted books removed, but he’d not dare refuse the empress.

  Ratna lounged by her window, which had recently been fitted with a crystal pane for the coming rainy season. Her cousin flipped through a manuscript without seeming to read it.