Children of Sun and Moon

by Matt Larkin

  No. No dammit. Not friends. He’d latched on to the wrong thing. “I’d like that,” she said.

  “What will people say?”

  Landorundun had already told her the answer. “Nothing they didn’t say before.” So she had to earn his trust again. Then maybe. “You know, I’m a Moon Scion.”

  He nodded, more as though confirming it than surprised. Of course, he knew she was Ketu’s daughter.

  “So you know my secrets.” Not the most important one, the one worth telling. But it was a start.

  He stared at her without speaking.

  “What did it feel like?” she asked. “Getting the Sun Brand?”

  At first it seemed like he wouldn’t answer. Finally, he spoke. “Like getting any other tattoo, I guess. Painful. A curate chanted about the spirit of the Sun God.”

  “And the things you can do? They just happen when you want?” she asked. He brushed his hair from his eyes, but didn’t respond. “Because, for me, I had to practice for a long time to gain control of my Moon Blessings. I just want to know if we’re the same. Because if we’re the same, then that’s something. And it means that maybe we can understand each other again. And now I’m babbling.”

  He laughed and shook his head, but at least he was smiling again. “Yes, I had to practice. It doesn’t just happen, you have to control your emotions. We do a lot of meditation early on, to bring your mind and body into cohesion. A year of training. But once you get good, it becomes second nature.”

  Her father probably didn’t know about the meditation. He’d be interested to hear this. But she wouldn’t tell him. Her shoulders still tingled from when Naresh had held her, even if he only meant it as a peace offering.

  “And what can you do, Moon Scion?”

  “Strength, speed, shift my center of gravity.”

  He grunted. “You mean like running on walls and so forth? Like how you could get on top of a house?”

  “Yes,” she said, fighting the urge to squirm. “I can do that. Some can run on ceilings or even water, though that’s beyond my ability.”

  “The first time I saw someone run along a wall—”

  “At least we don’t just appear anywhere.”

  “True.”

  “And one more thing.” She drew her Blessing and changed her hair color to brown. “We call it the Glamour. Our biggest secret.” She released it after a moment, though it felt good holding it.

  Naresh watched her, mouth half open, before shaking his head. He stood. No. Stay a while more, just talk. “Chandi, it’s late. You should get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  So he would give her another chance. If she couldn’t tell him everything, at least she could still see him. Maybe he’d figure it out.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  The look on her uncle’s face told Chandi the day’s talks had not gone well. “Sit,” he ordered the moment she entered his room. His curt summons had come while she attempted to maneuver an accidental evening meeting with Naresh, but she dared not keep her uncle waiting.

  The Solars had given him a fine chamber, though she doubted it would satisfy her uncle. A beach-scene mural decorated the longest wall in the room, with a fine sandalwood dresser against it. Rahu must have had them bring the small stove in the corner to heat his teas.

  She sat on the proffered mat and looked up at Rahu, her face placid. What did he want from her now?

  “We’ve negotiated free movement for you and Ratna again. They’ve even agreed to allow Malin to return as your bodyguard. Kakudmi seems ready to take any steps for peace. I thought Aji Bidara would catch fire, the way she fumed.”

  Maybe the talks went better than she thought.

  Rahu poured two cups of expensive-smelling tea, handing her one. He poured milk from a vial into his, but offered her none. When she reached her cup toward him, he glared.

  “Special blend. You can have fresh milk brought to your room later.”

  Rahu took a few sips, then set the cup down and took a deep breath with his eyes closed. He tapped one finger on his lip, then opened his eyes to watch her intently. “The Radiant Queen hammers us again and again to return the Astral Temple. She might even shame that fool Kakudmi out of his cowardice, might launch a war over it. We cannot return it, of course.”

  “Why?” Chandi asked before she thought better of it.

  Rahu’s eyes narrowed. “Because, niece, the Temple is of strategic importance. Part of my long-term strategy. That’s all you need to understand. Yesterday Aji Bidara rushed to choose a new head of the Arun Guard. I’d rather poor Kakudmi had continued to stumble over the choice.”

  “Who?” If Naresh became the First, his excitement might make him more receptive to her, though the position might keep him even busier.

  Rahu waved his hand. “Doesn’t matter, some woman.”

  Woman? Landi?

  “The point is their disarray will soon end. The Radiant Queen is more difficult than the emperor. You learned where she lives. Eliminate her.”

  Chandi sat there, her mouth open, uncertain whether she had heard her uncle. “Eliminate the Radiant Queen, the woman the Solars view as their direct link with their god? The woman with the power to create a city of crystal under the sea?” Naresh’s mother.

  “Yes. It will throw the Solars into total chaos.”

  With a struggle Chandi kept her seat, then folded her hands in her lap. “I suspect it would galvanize them against us. And I’m not an assassin.”

  “Anusapati might disagree.” His brows drew together, his eyes growing wide. “Do not question me, child. I want this done immediately.” For a moment he glared at her, then leaned back and sipped his tea. “You’re dismissed.”

  Chandi sat, unable to draw a breath. How could he, he who all but forced her to kill Anusapati, mention that name? And to call her an assassin. She rose and left the chamber without bowing.

  So he’d arranged the return of her freedom just so she could assassinate the Radiant Queen. Even if she could, even if she would, did he think the Solars wouldn’t know Lunars were responsible? If Naresh’s mother died the day Chandi regained her freedom, the conclusion was obvious.

  Chandi did not make good time through the city. The sun, what little peeked through the clouds, would not set for a phase, and she had no desire to reach Aji Bidara’s estate before full dark.

  Even under the sea, the city smelled different during the rainy season. Perhaps the damp smell drifted in from the Harbor District, or maybe it was all in her mind.

  By the time true twilight came the city was veiled in deep shadows and she could pass unnoticed through the High District.

  For a time, she wandered its streets. A few children played in the yards between houses, laughing and kicking a Sepak Takraw ball. A patrol of Solar soldiers walked the street, so she slipped into an alley and watched them pass. The soldiers paused to watch the children play, shouting their encouragement. Here, in impenetrable Kasusthali, they likely never had to enforce peace. Would they even know what to do if they realized a murderer watched them from the shadows?

  When they had gone, Chandi moved on, pausing outside Aji Bidara’s home. If the Radiant Queen caught her this time, nothing Naresh could say or do would save her.

  She drew her Moon Blessing and ran up the wall to an open window. Crouched on the ledge she could see the upper balcony and down into the atrium. For a long time Chandi sat silent watching the birds, until Aji Bidara entered the house. The Radiant Queen hummed a Solar hymn while she lit candles around the atrium, then sat on a mat.

  Chandi watched the woman sip tea and read a scroll. She watched the Radiant Queen let down her hair and relax after a day of court and religious rites. If she looked past the crimson clothing, the regal presence, and the awe the woman inspired, Chandi could see the resemblance to Naresh. She was not just an asset of the Solar faith, but a real person, with a real family.

  Whatever Rahu’s reasons, whatever his plan, Chandi could not kill the Radiant Q
ueen. She was finished with all of it. She was done being a spy, done being a pawn for her people. She was in love and Naresh needed to know how she felt. Jaka Tarub had never given up on his bidadari, and neither would Chandi.

  When she rose, her muscles ached from crouching so long. She dropped from the balcony and landed in the yard outside. Slipping from one shadow to the next, she made her way out of the High District.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  When Chandi entered, Ratna sat on her windowsill, staring across the sea beyond the pane as though wishing someone might take her away from all this. The heady scent of jasmine saturated the room, reminding Chandi of gardens in Bukit. Her cousin had tangled her hair toying with it. Ratna nodded at her mother’s brush on the dresser, with a weak smile.

  Chandi picked it up, then tossed it on the bed. “I’m not your maid, and things have gone too far.”

  Ratna rose, staring at Chandi, hands on hips. “Too far for you? Were you married off to a Solar? Did you give him a child then watch him discard you?”

  Naresh wouldn’t do that.

  “Your father sent me to kill the Radiant Queen last night. I didn’t. I watched, waited. But I didn’t. I won’t.”

  The silence hung between them, before Ratna spoke at last. “You must have misunderstood his order.”

  Chandi shook her head. Ratna had feared losing herself here. Somewhere along the way, that fear had become reality. She’d been blinded by her pain.

  “The Solars would have killed us all if you’d done that,” Ratna said, shaking her head. “Father needs my counsel. If only mother was here. She could reach him.”

  Chandi knew the feeling.

  Ratna drew a deep breath. “If there’s going to be war, father will need my help. We have to plan carefully.” Behind her cousin’s faraway look, Chandi saw schemes forming. Ratna had tried diplomacy for years. Now she’d try something more devious.

  Part of Chandi wished she could adapt as quickly as her cousin. “Plan to destroy your daughter’s future empire?”

  Ratna glared. “Revati can rule the Lunars just as well. We need to leave this cursed city. There is no place for me here. The courtiers still mock me behind my back, I know they do.”

  “And your husband—”

  “Barely notices me in the bedroom, and not at all elsewhere.” Ratna turned away, but not before Chandi saw the tears glistening in her eyes.

  “Maybe if you gave him a chance to—”

  “Neither of us chose the other. Duty bound us. I don’t doubt he loves Revati. But there will never be warmth between Solars and Lunars.”

  There would. Chandi would create it herself if she had to.

  Chandi turned to leave when Malin entered. “Ratna, your father wishes to see you before he meets with Kakudmi this morning.”

  He waited for Ratna to leave before turning to Chandi. He stalked closer to her, put his hand on her shoulder. Even after days in the city, he smelled of the rainforest, the scent of clean dirt and vitalized life.

  “Rahu’s right about one thing. War is coming.”

  Chandi shrugged free from his hand. She moved to the window, biting her lip as she watched the jukungs.

  “We’ve been increasing the ranks of the Jadian, both bloodlines.”

  “In a fight with a Warak Ngendog, I’d bet on the dragon beast,” Chandi said.

  Malin bared his teeth in what she couldn’t quite call a grin. “But thanks to you, we know it’s the Sun Brand that lets Solars control them. Far less effective than those of us who have the actual spirit of an animal within.”

  She sat back on Ratna’s windowsill. “You’d still get stepped on like a spider. Whatever you have within would be plastered across the ground.”

  Malin growled as he approached, shoulders hunched like he might attack her. “You should show more respect for those who protect you.” He pressed too close, forced her up on the windowsill.

  “Back away now, Malin.”

  He edged closer still, until she could feel his hot breath on her face, and put one leg up on the sill with her. “You Moon Scions think yourselves so high, but it’s my kind that hold the Lunar Empire together. We are more than human.”

  “And we’re children of the Moon God. Back off.”

  “So you say.” He put his hand on her jaw, rubbed it with his thumb. “But Chandra made us all, and Chandra gave us our gift.”

  She slapped away his hand. “I thought Rahu did that.”

  “Our world is changing. You cannot save anything here. But you can join me. Help my people. Together we can create a new, greater Lunar Empire.”

  “I’m not interested in the Lunar Empire, not as it is or whatever you imagine you’ll create.” She rose from the windowsill. She needed to see Naresh. Now. She’d tell him about Rahu’s treachery. “I don’t have time for this, Malin.”

  Malin grabbed her shoulders with a speed she hadn’t expected, held her near his face as he growled. Her heart raced loud enough he must hear it.

  “Release me.” She kept her voice level. He might hear her heart, but he would see no outward sign.

  The weretiger did let her go, backed away from her, his shoulders stiff. “I heard about your friend’s engagement. You must want to congratulate him.”

  “What?”

  “Imagine the two highest ranking members of the Arun Guard, married. I wonder if they can breed a little Sun Brander, too.”

  “Naresh?”

  “And Landorundun, of course. We couldn’t be happier for them. Really, the whole Lunar court will have to send its best wishes. Don’t you agree?”

  “You lie.” Her voice cracked. She had to hold together.

  “Not often, Chandi.”

  Something had opened inside her, sucked out everything. She couldn’t feel her heartbeat anymore. Would Malin hear if it had stopped beating?

  “Get out.” He’d hear even the whisper.

  Something flashed over his face. Not victory. Sympathy? Never. “Chandi—”

  “Get out!”

  As the door swung shut behind him, Chandi slumped against the wall. She bit her lip until it bled.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  The pouring rain didn’t bother Chandi as she wound her way through the Harbor District. Her hair hung plastered to her face and her wet clothing hugged her body, but none of the workers in the District stopped their work, so neither would she.

  Landorundun had left the palace just before the lingsir kulon meal, and Chandi followed, keeping to the shadows. Glamour would disguise her. The Arun Guardswoman wasn’t wearing her cerulean uniform, just a plain white baju like an Academy musician might favor. Chandi couldn’t say what she intended, not really. But if this woman thought she would marry Naresh—well, Chandi needed to know more about her.

  The Guardswoman glanced around before entering the Rangda Teahouse, but didn’t see Chandi. After a moment, Chandi followed her inside. With the windows bolted against the rain, the light came only from paper-shaded oil lamps hanging from poles around the building. Chandi slipped in behind Landorundun and took a table beside her. Landorundun didn’t turn or notice her.

  The proprietor brought her tea. “Usual, my lady?”

  Chandi nodded. Since Semar brought her here years before, she’d come often for the peanut satay. Solars and Ignis made up most of the crowd, but a few might have been Lunars. One table seemed to be Maitians like Malin. The Mait archipelago did frequent trade with the Outer Islands and Puradvipa, but the foreigners didn’t come to Kasusthali often.

  Just as the owner brought her satay, Chandi heard Landorundun rise. When she saw Bendurana enter through the front door, Chandi suppressed shock and forced herself into the corner of her alcove, turned her head away. After she’d run so many messages to him for the Ignis, he’d know her at a glance. But he didn’t even look at her as he slipped into the alcove with Landorundun.

  After a Glamour to disguise herself, Chandi peeked around the corner to see the two of them in an embrace. Bend
urana was her beau? Chandi leaned back against the bamboo wall and turned her ear to it. The planks provided little barrier to sound, so she heard without difficulty when Landorundun spoke.

  “I can’t meet with you anymore.” The Guardswoman’s voice almost broke. “My parents know too much. They arranged a marriage for me.”

  “What?” The captain for once seemed at a loss for words.

  “To Naresh. I should have told you before, I just couldn’t. But I have to face this.”

  Chandi’s face burned. Jealousy surged through her. Landorundun didn’t even want to marry Naresh.

  “I thought everything was over between you two a long time ago? How can you consider him, after what he put you through? Where’s his precious honor now, forcing you into this?”

  “Neither of us has a choice. He’s not forcing it. Our parents arranged it.”

  They were quiet for a moment, but Chandi didn’t dare peek again. She’d have a damn hard time explaining it if either of them saw her.

  “Break the arrangement,” Bendurana said. “You want to live your whole life by other peoples’ rules? The rules are guidelines for those who need them. And they’re not all good rules. Look at how the Ignis are treated—like slaves. Don’t Solars claim only Lunars keep slaves? And now you’ll enslave yourself to the rules that say do what you’re told. Break the rules, we’re worth it. Naresh can’t give you what I can, Landi.”

  “It’s done, Ben.”

  She heard one of them stand, then Landorundun drifted past, her hand on her face. The Guardswoman didn’t look down at Chandi. Neither did Bendurana when he passed a moment later.

  Chandi sat for a long time, not touching her satay. She ran her thumb over Anusapati’s pearl rhino. At last, she left it on the table.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Naresh swore under his breath, then looked back from the dhow to the Minister of Commerce. Though the rain had lessened to a drizzle, the two men were still soaking wet. “This one would be perfect, Minister,” Naresh said.