Children of Sun and Moon

by Matt Larkin

  What? But they hated each other, didn’t they? She had seen familiarity between them, true, but never affection. Had she missed it?

  Landorundun smiled. “He almost got expelled, for fighting with the first boy I was with.” Her smile faltered. “The Radiant Queen would never hear of her son marrying a flutist. She shamed me. When I first joined the Arun Guard, I thought I wanted to prove myself to her, to Naresh. But I realized that wasn’t it. If a successful flutist wasn’t good enough for her son, you have to know a palace servant will never be. Never.”

  With her elbows on her knees, Chandi put her face in her hands. Had she come to the palace open about who she was, had Rahu not asked her to spy, maybe all this would have been different.

  “The worst thing is the Radiant Queen probably thinks she’s helping us. Giving us what we want.”

  “Is it what Naresh wants?”

  “I doubt it. I can’t say what he cares about anymore. He used to love me, I think. I’m sure he loved the damned macaque. A pet,” she said to Chandi’s quizzical look. “He had to get rid of it when he joined the Arun Guard. Maybe he had to give up a lot.”

  Chandi fell onto her back and stared at Chandra’s face in the full moon. If she prayed harder, would it make a difference? Clouds passed in front of the moon, obscuring her vision. Perhaps Chandra couldn’t see her clearly, either.

  “Things wouldn’t have worked out with me and Bendurana, anyway. The whole reason my parents approached the Radiant Queen about marriage again was that they found out about him. They’d have done anything to keep me away from him.”

  Even force her to marry someone she didn’t love.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Naresh sat in the lounge rubbing his forehead. Why Landi had wanted him to deal with Bendurana he couldn’t guess. Damn captain whined about the Ministry of War not paying him for catching pirates. Most likely Bendurana’s former friends, at that.

  At least the captain was gone now. Naresh had enough problems without letting Bendurana loan him more.

  His head hurt.

  He shouldn’t have attacked Malin. Maybe Landi was right about it all. He did need more self-control. In the end, maybe she’d be good for him, despite everything. But he didn’t love her anymore.

  “Naresh?”

  He jerked upright at the sound of her voice. “Sun warm your face, Chandi.” Her crooked smile had grown so weak. “Please sit down.” He waved at the bench beside him. “What brings you here today?”

  “I,” she began, then hesitated. “I wanted to tell you that I…”

  “You told me you wanted to be friends again. So you can tell me anything.” He took her trembling hand and she didn’t pull it away. “What did you want to tell me?”

  “Just, congratulations.”

  He sighed, then put his other hand on top of hers. “Thank you.”

  She pulled her hand away and rose. “I should let you get back to work.”

  He should work, but it was the last thing he wanted now. “Chandi, you don’t have to leave. I could use someone to talk to. My life is changing so fast.” He could always count on Empu Baradah to listen, to give advice. And now… “You’re the only one I can talk to.”

  She bit her lip and looked away from him. “Don’t,” she mumbled.

  “What?”

  She drew a sharp breath before she spoke again. “Don’t marry her.” Her eyes locked his. “I love you.” She reached for his hands again. He couldn’t imagine what she must have seen in his face. “You… you don’t believe me?”

  Couldn’t let his voice break. “I believe you.” Had he fooled himself all along? He could talk to her, laugh with her, maybe even trust her again. She was beautiful and caring. Did he feel the same?

  She was a Lunar. What he felt didn’t matter.

  As soon as he spoke, she’d know that. So he stroked her hand in his and tried to smile. He needed Empu Baradah more than ever. No matter what he said, he would hurt her. “I…” He sighed. “I wish it were possible, Chandi. But it’s not. My mother would never allow it, even if she hadn’t already arranged a marriage for me.”

  “But you don’t have to do what she says. If you don’t live your own life, you’re the one who’ll suffer for it, not her.” Tears glistened in her eyes.

  If he stroked her face now, it would only make it harder. “You should understand family loyalty.”

  “Better than you know. I could lose my family, too. But it’s worth it. Loyalty doesn’t make you a slave.” She withdrew her hands. “Do you love Landorundun?”

  “I—”

  “You don’t. And you know she loves Bendurana. You do know that’s why her parents forced this marriage?”

  Bendurana? He couldn’t blame her parents for wanting to keep their daughter from the captain.

  Chandi leaned in. He could let her kiss him. But… it wouldn’t change anything.

  He pressed her shoulder backward. “I can’t. We can’t.” As he stood, she folded her hands in her lap and bit her lip. “I wish things were different.” He backed away but paused in the doorway. “My duty to my family is clear. I cannot place what I want above my family’s honor. I’m so sorry.”

  He spun and shuffled down the hall. If she was crying, he didn’t want to see it. She should have known he couldn’t. Of course, he couldn’t.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  “Your uncle demands your presence,” Malin told Chandi.

  Rahu could swallow the Moon for all Chandi cared. The weretiger had found her in the gardens. Despite the rain, she’d sat there since her talk with Naresh. Not sulking. Chandi didn’t sulk. Only Ratna sulked.

  How would Naresh react when she told him about Rahu’s orders for her to kill Aji Bidara?

  “It’ll be worse if you deny him,” Malin said when she didn’t rise.

  Then let it be done. She had run for fear of Rahu’s wrath before. No more. Chandi rose and followed Malin down the stairs. The Macan Gadungan led her to Ratna’s room, where her father and uncle sat on the floor, sipping tea.

  Keeping their conspiracy from the Solars. Planning to destroy Naresh’s people, while he planned his wedding to Landorundun.

  “We must strike, brother,” Ketu said. Chandi turned to look at her father. “It’s been more than a week, and Kakudmi has not yet conceded that we may keep the Astral Temple. You know we must have it.”

  “Yes, we’ll have it. Let them share it for a time if we have to. Bide our time and strike when they least expect it. Crush them all.”

  “All of us are in danger here,” Ratna said. Everyone ignored her.

  “And you,” Rahu said, rounding on Chandi. “How dare you tarry so long in joining us? And you failed in killing the Radiant Queen. What use are you?”

  Her father gasped.

  “I didn’t fail. I refused.”

  Her uncle reeled, eyes bulging at the blatant defiance. Ratna squeaked and covered her mouth.

  “You ordered her to assassinate Aji Bidara?” Ketu said. “Are you mad?”

  Rahu leapt to his feet and kicked over the teapot. Chandi’s father, too, jumped, as hot water splashed over him.

  “You question my authority? I rule supreme. Supreme. No one can stop me. No one.”

  Her father sputtered. “Chandra rules supreme! We serve him.”

  Rahu’s eyes had gone wild. Chandi gaped at her uncle. This couldn’t be what it looked like. “Then come, show me you can serve him better. Or shall I send your cowardly tongue to him?”

  Her father drew his keris knife. Rahu did the same.

  “Father—” Ratna started to complain as she rose from the bed.

  Chandi grabbed her cousin and pulled her across the room. “We can’t interfere.” This was it. Just the same as with Anusapati.

  Even as she spoke, their fathers started the dance. With speed that could only come from Moon Blessings, they slashed and turned about each other. An attack deflected with keris. A low kick.

  Faster and faster, until s
he could no longer tell who was attacking, who was winning. She pulled Ratna closer to her chest. One of their fathers would submit, or one would die here.

  Rahu flipped over her father and snared him around the shoulder. A twist of his arms flipped Ketu toward the wall with enough force to shatter a man, but her father spun and shifted his gravity onto it, then kicked off and rolled at Rahu.

  Her uncle was faster. Only Ketu showed his age. Rahu leapt over Ketu’s lunge and kicked him in the back, sending him sprawling. Her father rose, keris ready, but his breathing came heavy. Rahu was smiling, beaming. Chuckling.

  Her uncle reached a hand toward the teapot. It exploded and shards of pottery flew at her father. Ketu tried to shield his face and the shards embedded in his arm.

  Chandi stood open-mouthed. A new Moon Blessing? All Moon Scions had the same ones. Could Rahu really be the Voice of Chandra? The speaker for the Moon God himself among them, now a lunatic?

  As her father recovered, Rahu extended the keris toward him. The blade flew from his hand and impaled her father with enough force to hurl him from his feet.

  Chandi released Ratna and moved toward her father. The keris had lodged in his shoulder. Her father was mercifully unconscious.

  “Behold the new Moon God,” Rahu said. He didn’t shout. Somehow, that made it worse. He smiled. Just smiled. And then he left.

  Chandi drew her Moon Blessing so she could lift her father to the bed.

  “Your father shouldn’t have challenged him,” Ratna said. Chandi heard her cousin pacing, but she didn’t look at her. More important things drew her attention. “He had to know. Father was always the most powerful. His gifts are so strong.”

  “I doubt my father intended to challenge him. Rahu didn’t give him much choice.”

  “He should have known better.”

  How many times had Rahu used his Blessings before he had gone lunatic? Every Moon Scion’s worst fear, now realized in their own leader. No one could stand against him. No one would challenge his power.

  “Your father is a lunatic now. You saw that.”

  “I saw nothing! Nothing!” Ratna’s voice broke. She hadn’t cried when she learned she had to marry Kakudmi. She hadn’t cried since they came here, not that Chandi could remember. But she could hear tears in her cousin’s voice now. “You keep your mouth shut, Chandi. Don’t make it any worse for your father.” Ratna stormed out.

  “Malin, get someone from the Ministry of Health.”

  Malin removed his baju, and wadded it around the wound, then ran. For once, no hint of a smirk crossed his face.

  Rahu had gone lunatic. Even her father, a master of Silat, had failed to stand up to that power. But Chandi would. Chandra forgive her for what she had to do. A direct confrontation was impossible. But Chandi would not allow the lunatic to destroy the peace. She would not allow him to harm her people. Or Naresh.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Though the Minister didn’t like it, he accepted Chandi’s claim that her father’s injuries were internal matters for the Lunar Empire. He wouldn’t pass the incident along to the Ministry of Law. If Chandi never saw that place again she’d praise Chandra for it.

  The sun had long since set when medics left her father in his chamber. He’d grown pale from the blood loss, but they had assured her he’d recover.

  When he spoke, his voice a dry rasp, she jumped. They had given him tonics that should have made him sleep. “Malin. Arrange a ship for me, now. Any Lunar ship. I’m going to the Astral Temple in the morning.”

  Malin had said little throughout the ordeal. Now he brooded in the corner, hiding in shadows. “You should not leave. You know what Rahu has become.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do, Macan Gadungan. Know your place and follow your orders.”

  “Don’t go,” Chandi said. She needed someone who understood her, someone to talk to. Her father was all she had left.

  “I have to, Chandi. Rahu has revealed his true self at last. A devastating blow. But an opportunity, as well. The chance to advance our side of the family.”

  Malin growled, and stalked from the room.

  “Why? Why do we have to do any of this? Let the Solars have the damn temple. Isn’t it worth losing a monument to save so many lives? Isn’t it worth it to make this peace mean something?”

  “We will not be forced to the Solar religion.”

  She sat on the bed beside her father. “We’re not talking about forced conversion. We’re talking about peace, and making a real effort rather than this sham of Rahu’s.”

  “They’re blasphemers. Chandra will not stand for their rule over these Isles.”

  “Blasphemers because they worship Surya?” She took his hand in her own. He had to understand.

  “You told me once the story of how the Skyfall Isles got their name.” Her father sighed and nodded, so she continued. “Tell me if I get something wrong. All the gods of the sky, sun, moon, and the stars, together cast a rock from the heavens into the endless ocean of the Earth. Algae from the sea covered this rock and became the Skyfall archipelago.”

  “Yes.”

  “And the sun cast a wooden sword into the ground. And the moon cast a vine around this sword. And these things grew into a tree. And from the tree came man and woman.”

  “Yes.” His voice had grown quieter, but harsher.

  “So aren’t we all children of both the sun and moon?”

  Her father didn’t answer her for so long she decided to check to see if he had fallen unconscious, but he brushed her away.

  “Chandi, there are things you don’t understand yet. Maybe it’s time. You won’t remember, I’m sure, but when you were very young, you caught malaria. Almost died…”

  “And?”

  But her father just shook his head. “No, please, I need something from Rahu’s chamber first. He has plans, sketches we’ve been working on for the Astral Temple. Can you get them without him catching you?”

  “I don’t want to think about the temple anymore. I’ve had enough of this.”

  “Chandi, please. You saw what Rahu’s become. If we want to stand against him, we must take the temple from him.”

  Chandi rose and glared at him. “Why? What is it about that place that makes any difference?”

  “Get the plans. I’ll tell you.”

  For a moment more she lingered, then slipped from his room. Years of sneaking about the palace had taught her how to move without making a sound. And in the shadows, with the Glamour, she was almost invisible.

  She listened at Rahu’s door. The reeds concealed little sound. Breathing. Rhythmic. With a glance down both directions of the hall, she cracked the door ajar to peek inside.

  Very little light crept in through the crystal pane over the window. She waited for her eyes to adjust. Shame she didn’t have Malin’s night vision.

  Chandi left her sandals just inside the door and crept in on her toes, making no sound. Beside her uncle’s sandalwood dresser sat a trunk carved with Lunar etchings. It took longer than she’d like to pick the lock. The creak it made when she opened it sent a shudder through her.

  Her uncle stirred.

  Chandi set the lid closed. She drew the Glamour to shadow herself, and rolled under the bed.

  Tight. Too tight. Had he seen her? He’d need a moment to adjust his eyes. Wouldn’t he? She needed to quiet her breath. Calm. For once, she envied the Solars’ meditation techniques.

  Rahu grunted. The bed creaked as he shifted his weight. Chandi tried to push back further to the other side. Her back brushed against hard wood. She ran her fingers over it. A box.

  A phase, it seemed, she waited there. Her uncle’s breathing had long since become regular again. But Chandi couldn’t bring herself to move. If she woke him, he’d kill her without a second thought. What in Chandra’s name was she doing here?

  No. No, she’d sworn to stop him, to save the peace. If her father could use those plans to stop Rahu, then she would get them.

  On her bel
ly she slid from the bed and crawled back to the trunk. With agonizing slowness, she opened the lid. A book sat on top. She could just make out that it wasn’t written in the Skyfall tongue. Useless. Silks, exotic teas. Beneath them, a scroll case. Chandra let it be the right one.

  She eased the trunk closed, but paused at the door. Why had he hidden a box under the bed? She knelt on the other side of the rattan bed and pulled out the box. Heart pounding, she snuck from the room with box and scroll case in hand.

  She grabbed her sandals, but didn’t bother to put them on. Chandi started for her father’s door, then stopped. What had she risked her life for? She slipped into her own room and lit a lamp.

  She unfurled the scrolls on the floor. A complex diagram seemed to match Naresh’s description of the Astral Temple. But the diagrams went on, describing chambers hidden beneath the temple. The notes, some of them in her father’s hand, indicated not astral observation, but astral manipulation. How and why would they dare to touch the dwelling of the gods? Wasn’t that the ultimate blasphemy? What would a lunatic do with the power to control the heavens?

  Chandi couldn’t imagine the use for such plans, but if her father thought they would allow him to overthrow Rahu, she needed to get them to him. She returned the scrolls to the case and turned to the box.

  It had no lock, but wouldn’t open. Rangda’s freezing underworld.

  She ran her hands over the edges, feeling the intricate carvings. One gave a little under her touch. She pressed it deeper and heard the lid unlatch. Three ceramic vials lay inside. The kind Rahu used to add milk to his expensive teas. Two vials were empty, but the third held a silvery liquid. It smelled like milk, but in the dim room it glittered, like moonlight on the sea.

  She risked her life for this? Chandi corked the vial and slid the box under her own bed.

  “Chandi.”

  Hand to her chest, she spun at Malin’s voice. Damn tiger.