Children of Sun and Moon

by Matt Larkin

  He Sun Strode from the hilltop to the beleaguered battalion. Even as he appeared he chopped down a weretiger. He couldn’t savor the victory. He burned more sunlight to increase his speed—the only way he could stand against so many. Another he cut down, and another.

  He Strode to a tiger attacking a Solar and cut it across the face. He Strode again to kill another before the first tiger had fallen. Another tiger batted his sword from his hand and leapt on top of him. He couldn’t wrestle the animal, so he grabbed it and Strode into the sky. In the weretiger’s surprise, Naresh managed to separate himself from it and Strode back down to the ground. The tiger struck hard a moment later. Solar warriors finished it in an instant.

  Naresh bent to retrieve his sword. He didn’t need to check the tattoo. He had spent it all in that maneuver. Without that power, he stood among the Macan Gadungan, a mere mortal.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  From the rainforest Malin could hear the sounds of battle, could feel the ground vibrate as the Warak Ngendog trampled unlucky Lunar soldiers underfoot. Ketu said he’d know when the time was right.

  And then he felt it, felt the moon’s pull. Even through the thick rainforest canopy he saw the sky growing dark. A murmur swept through the Macan Gadungan. An eclipse would soon blanket out the sun, though no one had predicted such an event.

  Beneath the moon, he was freed, freed from his inability to assume beast form. Malin tore his baju from his shoulders, the rest of the Macan Gadungan following his example. A hundred men and women stripped down behind him. Heat welled up in his heart, began coursing through his veins. The spirit within surged. His muscles twitched, bones shifted. Malin arched his back and fell to all fours, felt the fur sprouting. The sweet agony of the change overcame him and a roar ripped out of his lungs. The roars of the rest of the Macan Gadungan echoed him.

  Pulse pounding in his ears, Malin ran from the jungle, not slowing even as the Solar battalion tried to flee. In the space of three heartbeats he had closed the gap. A Solar tried to turn to face him, but Malin tore out his throat. Other weretigers crashed by him.

  And then an Arun Guard was among them, cutting them down as they had at Astral Shore. A weretiger tried to overpower the man—Naresh, damn him—but the Guardsmen Sun Strode them both into the sky.

  Naresh reappeared on the ground, hesitated. So, he had used the extent of his power. Malin charged, leapt onto the Guardsman and bore him down. He snapped at Naresh’s throat, considered ending it. But this was too fine a prize to squander. His fellows understood his snarls and surrounded the Guardsman, nipping and bashing, but not slaying.

  Malin charged another Arun Guardsmen, the rest of the Macan Gadungan a step behind. The Guardsman Sun Strode into their midst and in moments had cut down four weretigers. The rest of the Macan Gadungan ripped out the man’s throat when the glow of sunlight faded from his eyes.

  At first the other Solar soldiers tried to restore order, tried to form into ranks under the command of an officer. But without the Arun Guard’s power, the Warak Ngendog began to veer off course. First the beast bellowed, then it rocked, shaking off its rider. The ground shook as the creature crashed through the Solar lines, running from the battle. A fallen rider turned to paste beneath one of the dragon beast’s legs.

  Malin and his people backed away from the rampaging beast, turning instead to hunt fleeing Solar soldiers. When the sun began to peak out from behind the moon once again, few Solars remained alive and free. As sunlight increased, the beast spirit drew back inside, forced him back to human form. He wobbled as he rose, unsteady as always when returning to two legs. Most of the Macan Gadungan had begun to steal sarongs from corpses to wrap around their waists. Malin did so as well.

  Bleeding and bruised, Naresh remained defiant, although two of the Macan Gadungan had to hold him upright. Malin looked his prey in the eyes. Some of the Guardsman’s bruises looked old, some fresh. Naresh did not cower before him, though Malin would have been disappointed if breaking the Guardsman had been that easy. He threw all his weight behind a punch and sent Naresh sprawling. “Take him to Bukit,” he told his people. “We will make an example of him.”

  Malin paused then, to look over the devastation. Most of the ordinary Lunar soldiers had fallen, but so too had most of the Solars. Ketu had done it. And in doing so he had committed a blasphemy beyond measure. Man should not control the celestial sphere, and Ketu most of all should not hold such power.

  Malin had thought he needed to claim the Astral Temple to prevent anyone else from following where Rahu and Kala had come from. Perhaps he also needed to hold it to stop men like Ketu from exploiting it. The man’s actions could bring the wrath of the Moon God down on all of them.

  The Moon Scions had ruled the Lunars for too long.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  Almost a week without sleep had taken its toll on Chandi. After what had happened with Naresh, perhaps she would never sleep again. She trudged through the Igni District. In the bangun phase, just before sunrise, few of the Ignis had risen yet.

  The call of the Blessings surged through her, sent her trembling. She needed them. Fire scorched her veins.

  She slumped against the side of a building to avoid a small crowd of Ignis rushing past. What had she done? She wanted to blame it all on the lunacy, though the thought she was becoming like Rahu offered small comfort. Would she meet the same fate? Moon Scions said killing a lunatic was mercy. Perhaps someone would show her that mercy. Soon.

  She pushed off the wall and rubbed the sleep of a restless nap from her eyes, then had to step backward as another group of Ignis hurried past. After a moment’s hesitation, she crept after the Igni party. If something was happening, she needed to know. Semar might have helped her, but she couldn’t face him after what she’d done.

  As long as she stayed away from the lantern posts the Ignis had little chance to see her following. They led her to a wooden apartment building where two went inside; the other three mulled about, shifted their weight, wrung their hands. They didn’t talk. Chandi crouched in the shadows, watching the men. She needed the Glamour. Just for this. Chandi bit her lip, trying to fight the urge.

  The first two men returned, arms laden with weapons they soon distributed to their companions.

  It was happening. The Ignis intended to flood the city. Which meant her people were attacking. They might already have ships in the harbor, or werebeasts approaching by land.

  And where was Naresh? He must have gone to war, and now he’d return to find his home destroyed. She had betrayed him yet again, this time in madness and rage. She rose and started to run toward the tube to the Circuit. It didn’t matter if Naresh would never forgive her. She couldn’t let this happen, couldn’t let these people die.

  The pressure she’d placed on Semar may have brought them to this. Another group of Ignis spotted her running and moved to intercept her. If she used her Blessings she could run up the wall or outpace them. She had to, had to. If they caught her, she’d help no one. A good reason, it was a good reason. Chandi bit her tongue until she tasted blood. Fight the temptation. Her body tingled with the anticipation of the Blessing. Fight it. There would always be a good reason to draw it.

  Fight it.

  Even exhausted, even without her Blessings, she was in excellent condition. She dodged around the Ignis, then darted down an ally. Around a few more bends, and she must have lost them. She didn’t slow.

  She’d made so many mistakes. So many. Too exhausted to laugh or cry, she ran on, through the Circuit. Ignis assaulted unsuspecting watchmen there, but she didn’t have time to help them.

  On through the Temple District she ran, hoping Aji Bidara had already come to prepare for the morning service. Dawn was half a phase away.

  She burst through the doors to the Temple of the Sun and found the Radiant Queen kneeling in prayer at the center of the dome. Candles lined the walls, illuminating the temple before sunrise. Aji Bidara rose and turned at Chandi’s entrance, her face cal
m, but her eyes darkened.

  “Child,” the Radiant Queen said, “you must be mad to come here. Naresh protected you once.” Chandi winced at the reminder. The Queen drifted toward her at a steady pace. “But to come into our presence without him, much less to barge into our temple—at least now we will have a chance to finish the discussion our son interrupted.”

  “I need to tell you something, Your Radiance—”

  “You will tell us everything, child.”

  Aji Bidara vanished and appeared beside Chandi. Before Chandi could react, the Queen had a hand on her and they both reappeared on the upper balcony that rimmed the temple. By the time Chandi reoriented herself, Aji Bidara had pressed her against the dome, and the crystal melded to engulf Chandi’s arms. The cold, jagged crystals dug into her flesh. All her twisting and pulling only sent lances of pain through her shoulders.

  Could she break out with the Blessing?

  “I came here to help you!”

  “You will help us.” Aji Bidara stepped closer and lifted Chandi’s chin in her hand, forced her to meet the taller woman’s gaze. “How did your people create the eclipse?”

  “The Ignis are rebelling. They’re planning to crack the domes. My people are attacking, soon. You have to—”

  “Was it the Astral Temple? Did your people find a way to use it to alter the course of the moon? What blasphemy have you worked there?”

  Eclipse? She’d walked in a daze, hadn’t talked to anyone. Was it possible her father had created an eclipse at the Astral Temple? The plans she had seen in the scroll case, in Rahu’s room. That must have been what they meant. The power to change the course of the heavens.

  If the Solars did not reclaim the temple, they could never stop the Macan Gadungan.

  “I don’t know,” Chandi said. “Maybe, the Temple. But you aren’t listening. It’s the Ignis. They’ve been hiding weapons, I saw them. They’re attacking watchmen in the Circuit, they must be moving on the other districts as well. If they overtake the Harbor District, you’ll be defenseless against the incoming Lunar army.”

  “Why come to us, child?”

  “I’ve seen your power, maybe you can stop them.”

  Aji Bidara nodded to herself and turned away. The crystal dome released Chandi and she fell forward, but caught her balance.

  “Please,” she called after Aji Bidara, who already walked toward the stairs. “Where is Naresh? I have to find him.”

  The Queen watched her a moment, nodding her head. “We thought so. You are the Lunar girl he wanted to marry, aren’t you? A Lunar servant, in love with our son. My, how you forget yourself, child.”

  Chandi rushed toward her. She would not let this arrogant tyrant stop her. “Where is he?”

  “Gone.” The Queen’s voice had grown quiet. “Our son is gone. Captured during the eclipse, taken by your people. We imagine already on his way to Bukit. Beyond all help.”

  In Bukit they would kill him. Her father would make a spectacle of it, drag it out, then destroy him. Perhaps she still had time. She pushed past the Radiant Queen. “Not all help.”

  “Child,” Aji Bidara called to her as she fled the temple. “Do you really think you can save my son?”

  Chandi turned to face the woman. The most powerful woman in the world. But for once the mask of certainty had fallen. Until she saw something in Chandi’s face.

  “Then go with the speed of dawn.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  In her rush, Chandi plowed into Bendurana, sending them both toppling to the ground.

  “Help me,” she cried as she untangled her legs from him and rose, wobbling. Her head throbbed from where they collided.

  “My lady, I assure you, you don’t need to call for help. I’m not trying to accost you, much as I might enjoy the pleasure of having you sprawled atop me.”

  Chandi grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet. “Bendurana, it’s me. I need your help.”

  “Ah, Chandi. Things are tense now. Can this wait?”

  Chandi dragged him toward the Arun Guard mess hall. “Is Landorundun in there? What we’ve done—”

  “Yes. The Ignis will bring death here in their quest for freedom. I wanted to get some people out of the city before that happens.”

  Chandi pulled him behind her. “It’s happening now. The Radiant Queen knows. And I need to get to Bukit. Now.”

  Bendurana laughed. “In the middle of a war? I do like a challenge, and there might even be profit in it. But first we must deal with the situation here, my lady.”

  Chandi grabbed him by the shoulders. “You know what it means to love someone the rules say you can’t have.” Bendurana coughed at her assertion, but she continued without pause. “You know how it feels, the weight of tradition keeping you from what you want. And I say damn tradition. I love Naresh, and now he’s been captured, taken to Bukit. They’ll kill him, unless you take me there and we save him.”

  Bendurana rocked back on his heels and whistled. “Well then. Well, well then. A daring rescue. Braving great danger in the name of love. And breaking all the rules in the process. Finally something worth my not inconsiderable talents.” He grinned. “I do love a challenge.” Then he glanced back at the harbor. “But your taste in men leaves something to be desired, if you’ll forgive me, my lady. And I can hardly leave…”

  “My taste?” Chandi released his shoulders. “You warned me about Naresh all those years ago when you brought us here. But you were wrong. He’s a good man. Can you let him die alone in a Lunar dungeon?”

  Bendurana’s grin returned and he put a hand on her shoulder. “No. No, I can’t.”

  With a nod Chandi turned to rush for the Arun Guard mess hall. Instead she found Landorundun standing behind her. The Guardswoman’s fist caught Chandi by surprise and sent her sprawling to the floor. “You’re a fool to come here after what you’ve done.”

  “Landi,” Bendurana said, but she waved him back.

  Hand to her lip to wipe away the blood, Chandi snickered as she rose. “You’re the second woman to say that to me this phase.”

  The Guardswoman’s hand drifted to her keris. “I don’t know where you’ve been hiding these past days. Naresh didn’t want you killed, but he’s not here and he’s not in charge. Surya knows you deserve it.” The blade began to inch free of its sheath.

  “I deserve it.”

  “And it’s time you had it.” The blade lurched free. “You’ve lied to us for years. He told me who you really are. You pretended to be a servant to spy on us. You pretended to care about him so I’d trust you. You pretended to be human when you’re a Moon Scion.” Landorundun’s voice rose with each accusation.

  Chandi backed away. “I am human, and a Moon Scion, yes. But I never pretended to care about Naresh—I love him. If you believe nothing else I’ve ever said, please, please believe that. I swear on the moon, I swear on the sun, I’ll swear on the Igni’s sacred flame, I love him.” A tremble ran through her. “Grief overcame me, lunacy from my Blessings. That’s no excuse, and I know you can’t really understand the latter problem, but I swear, I swear—”

  Landorundun pointed the blade at her. Rather than move to defend herself, Chandi raised her chin to expose her throat. Without the Guardswoman’s help she could never save Naresh. If Landorundun wanted to kill her, let her. But her resolve didn’t stop her from trembling.

  Bendurana cried out, but the Guardswoman didn’t look at him. And then her arm fell to her side, the fire gone from her eyes. Once proud, now she seemed only haggard.

  “Please help me help him,” Chandi said. “I know you don’t love him, but if you care about him—you must, you’re marrying him—you must help me save him.”

  “I can’t do anything for him. By now he’s halfway to Bukit. I couldn’t help him even if I could leave Kasusthali, and I can’t. An attack may come at any time.”

  Chandi held her tongue. She should tell Landorundun about the Igni rebellion, about what it meant, but if she did the Guardswom
an might not help her.

  “And I’m not marrying him,” Landorundun added.

  “What…” Chandi fought to control her voice. “What do you mean not marrying him?”

  “He broke it off because of you. And because of Bendurana and me.”

  No, he had said they could never… Laughter bubbled out though she wanted to cry. Perhaps she’d gone more lunatic than she thought.

  “He’s beyond our power to help, now, Chandi. I’m sorry. He was a good man, but we need our forces to protect Kasusthali. A siege on Swarnadvipa would be doomed.” Landorundun pulled her into an embrace with her free hand. “Doomed and a waste of life, even for a good man.”

  Chandi slipped free from the Solar woman. “We don’t have to lay siege to it. Give me a ship. One ship won’t make a difference here.”

  “I can’t send away our military forces in time of war, Chandi. I’m sorry.”

  “No,” Bendurana said. “I’ll take her.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  Bendurana had already started from the room, and Chandi chased after him. “Sorry, my dear,” he called over his shoulder. “But you cannot order me not to go. I won’t leave Chandi without recourse.”

  Chandi and Bendurana ran from the palace and into the tube, staggering to a halt as Landorundun appeared before them.

  “You know I damn well won’t let you go alone, Ben.”

  Chandi ran on, unable to find the words of gratitude she owed them. The intersection where the Circuit should have joined the south tube connecting to the Harbor District was gone. Smooth crystal sealed off the west wall, cutting off access to the Igni District. Had Aji Bidara sealed them inside?

  Bodies lined the tube, both Igni and Solar soldiers. But the carnage inside didn’t prepare her for the sight as they entered the harbor.