by Payal Doshi
The Queen glanced at Rea writhing in the guard’s grip.
“A futile effort, little niece.”
The Queen thought she had brought Amma and Bajai here.
“RELEASE MY CHILDREN,” yelled Amma, halting behind the flowergrass. There was a power in her that Rea hadn’t seen before. The soldiers spread out, ready to act on command.
“Well, hello, Keona, Mother. It’s been a while,” the Queen said with a chilling smile.
“I’m no longer the sister who loved you, Razya.” Amma bared her teeth like a wild animal. “I’m your darkest foe and you shall pay for this.’”
The Queen laughed. “Darkest foe, is it? How, then, do I have your children in my possession?”
Amma’s golden nectar pulsed like a coin in the center of her palms.
“Razya...” implored Bajai, “It doesn’t have to be this way...”
“It’s Your Extreme Greatness, Mother,” the Queen snarled.
“Look around you,” shouted Amma, gesturing towards the crowd whistling and cheering at their arrival. “Twelve years later and your subjects continue to despise you. A mere glance at their true queens and their faces are alight with happiness. They are begging to be released from your miserable clutches.”
The Queen’s face contorted. “Is that how you want to play, little sister?”
A beam flew from her fingertips and sliced open the side of Amma’s arm. Rea screamed, and the crowd shrank in horror.
“Hurt me as much as you want. You are not going to win tonight.” Amma clutched her arm as blood pooled onto the ground.
“We are family, Razya,” begged Bajai. “Don’t do this again...”
The Queen’s gaze turned sharper than a dagger’s edge. “In no other realm does the crown belong to the heir who sires children first over the heir who is first-born. Only in Astranthia.”
Amma’s face hardened with severity. “That has been the Astranthian way.”
“And yet, must it continue?”
“Tradition has been the cornerstone of our civilization. Generations upon generations have ruled Astranthia this way. Neither you nor I can change it on a whim. Just because it does not suit your ambition to lay claim to the throne, you have rejected our age-old custom. Life does not always go according to plan and one does not always get what one wants. But you make the best of what you have. It is a simple truth that you’ve never understood.”
Amma stepped closer, not fearing the Queen or her guards. The authority in her voice added a charge to the air. Everyone listened, hanging on her every word.
“You blame me for having children before you and taking your place on the throne. But what did it get me? A dead husband and a curse from you that exiled our family from the land we called home, leaving my children homeless, fatherless, and penniless. Did I come raging after you to hurt you? No. Life isn’t fair, Razya. When will you accept that?” Amma railed. Blood stained her white salwar.
“Look around you. Each of us, young and old, rich and poor, have suffered life’s injustices. Yet we prevail, striving to do better, be better, not make others suffer for our unhappiness like you have. You were once a sister I longed to emulate. Smart, sincere, and beautiful. But when life acted against your wishes, you changed. Now look at what has become of you. You imprison and torture children who have never known of your existence, an existence I hid from them because I feared this day, this moment would come,” Amma’s voice quivered. “You betrayed our family to gain power, you treated your subjects with terror and trickery, and you hurt the Som to let go of its petal—a petal which wouldn’t have been found were it not for my daughter. Tell us, what has all this hatred, vengeance, and cruelty gotten you, Razya?”
Animosity dripped from the Queen’s face and she clapped her hands. “My, my, little sister. You have finally found your voice. I’m impressed. In these twelve years, none have had the courage to look me in the eye and utter such strong words. I can see you regard yourself as a wise and good woman, a woman who has made the best of her trying circumstances. Well, it is only fair then that I shed more light on your virtue and impeccable prudence.”
The swirls of black on the Queen’s gown flared with flames, matching the burning loathing in her eyes.
“In fact, it can be a game we play to make life more fair and give the people a chance to decide who they prefer as Queen—you or me?”
“Yes, let’s see who they prefer,” replied Amma. Her eyes flicked to Rea for a single moment. The look told her to run and save Rohan while she kept the Queen occupied in their war of words. Rohan had folded over his knees, and Rea kicked and stamped the guard’s legs as hard as she could, struggling to free herself.
The Queen smirked. “Tell us, little sister, what were you doing the evening before you son’s twelfth birthday, a day you knew I’d come for him?”
She left the statement hanging, and the nerve above Amma’s eye twitched. Her gaze faltered, guilty, like she had been caught in a lie.
“Did you latch your door to protect him? Did you keep him safe at home and in bed? Did you stay awake to ensure nothing happened in the dead of night? Or did you visit the village fortune teller who was known to spin tales and steal money?”
The Queen waited for Amma’s reply as Rea looked on with confusion. How did she know about Amma meeting Mishti Daadi?
“I take her silence as an admission of guilt,” the Queen stated to the people. “See, I wonder, if my sister hadn’t spent her energy pouring her pathetic heart out to an old fortune teller, would she have been alert enough to hear her son sneaking out of the house and perhaps stopped him from being alone on the gravest day of his life, a day she knew I would be coming for him?”
Amma’s face went cold. “I don’t have time for your sick mind games.”
It slowly dawned on Rea why Amma had pulled them out from school that week; why she was forced to accompany her at the plantations, while Rohan had to be stuck at home with Bajai. Not knowing when the Queen would strike, her mother and grandmother had tried to keep her and Rohan by their side at all times during the day. Amma’s only mistake was she hadn’t considered they would sneak out at night...
A lot about Amma’s behavior was starting to make sense to Rea—her aloofness, her pain, her silent suffering. Every day, she had been grappling with the betrayal of her sister. It still hurt Rea the way Amma’s love for her had felt a little restrained, but she was beginning to understand why she didn’t love her as freely as other mothers loved their children. Maybe Amma was afraid of the pain she would feel if she lost her and Rohan like she had when she lost her family and home.
“Frankly, I’m shocked it took you this long to show up,” the Queen taunted Amma. “Then again, with your self-pitying personality, I shouldn’t be surprised.”
The right side of Amma’s salwar kameez was soaking in blood and she struggled to keep her balance. Her breaths had turned heavy and Rea wasn’t sure if that was because of the amount of blood she was losing or the truth of the Queen’s words.
“What does that say about you, Keona, my good little sister? You knew what I was capable of and yet you couldn’t save your children. It begs the question: are you fit to be a ruler if you can’t even be a good mother? Why, I take it your own daughter doesn’t trust you either.” Amma flung a trembling gaze towards Rea and Rea looked at the ground, consumed with guilt. “Did you know she followed you when you scurried off to see the fortune teller?”
Bajai’s hands flew to her lips and Amma’s expression slackened.
“After that, it didn’t take much for her to visit the charlatan herself. So full of curiosity about her Amma’s secrets, she confided her own secrets—the kidnapping of her brother, the nightmare she’d been having. And what did the old hag do? Plant clues in her head to lead her to the portal! The very one I’ve hidden under your nose the entire time. I made it obvious too: A banyan. It’s the only one in Darjeeling.”
Amma closed her eyes and her tears flowed like rivers. Rea c
ouldn’t comprehend what was happening. How did the Queen know all of this? It was Mishti Daadi’s powers of divination that led her to the banyan. Mishti Daadi’s riddles and prophecies that brought her to Rohan. She had even given her the Ceffyldwer’s call!
The Queen chuckled. “Aren’t children wonderfully easy to manipulate?”
Her opulent gown transformed into a faded yellow saree and her striking face crinkled into folds of wrinkles. A big, red bindi grew on her forehead and her lustrous black hair turned stringy white.
“NO,” Rea gasped, as the Queen cackled like an evil crone enjoying every minute of her exposé. “You can’t be Mishti Daadi, you CAN’T! She helped me find Rohan, she cared for me.” Dizzying spots of anger danced before Rea’s eyes.
“Mind you, it wasn’t easy shapeshifting into this every time the doorbell rang. Fools in Pokhriabasti rang it in jest and it leaked my powers each time I transmogrified,” she said to Amma. “For years, I kept watch on your family, noticing what a neglected child your daughter had become. Overlooked and shunned by you. I pitied her. I knew what that felt like.”
Bajai sobbed into her saree.
“But the day you appeared at my door, I realized the stars had aligned and the gods, cruel as they had been, finally approved of me.”
Amma’s body shook, her lips mouthing ‘no, no, no’ and she shrank into Bajai’s arms. Rea tried to deny it, squash it, burn it, but there was no escaping the truth: The Queen had used her from the very beginning, and she had been so angry, so self-pitying, that she had fallen for it.
“I must admit, your daughter is a clever one. There’s a lot of myself in her. The impulsiveness, the feistiness, the jealously, the cunning. Is that why you pushed her away, Keona? Afraid she was more like me than you?”
A crack formed in the walls Amma had built around her and a cry flew out of her mouth.
“STOP YOUR VILE LITANY OF ACCUSATIONS!”
But she didn’t deny the Queen’s words. Limp in the guard’s grip, Rea stared at her mother. Did Amma really feel that way? Time after time, she had been told in Astranthia that she was impulsive and feisty like the Queen, that she thought with her emotions instead of a sound mind. Was she truly more like her aunt than her own mother?
“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK OF MY DAUGHTER IN THE SAME BREATH AS YOUR NAME? SHE IS NOTHING LIKE YOU!”
The words were a salve. The clutch around Rea’s heart lessened although the relief came a moment too late. But it had come, she told herself. And for that she was infinitely grateful. Although she had turned on Amma repeatedly, blamed her, doubted her, questioned her capabilities of being a good mother, and then turned on Rohan, doubted him, blamed him, and questioned his capabilities of being a good brother, she had never thought to hurt them like the Queen had, and she had wanted to find Rohan with all her heart. Hopefully, Amma saw there was good in her and that she was not as horrible as the Queen...
The Queen grimaced. “Enough about you.”
A pall of gloom fell over the Leafless Forest.
“Astranthians, as your ruler I will stop at nothing to secure your future. You can blame me if you want but it won’t behoove you to dwell on the past. Our future was at stake and I did what I needed to to protect it. When I learned about the missing petal, I led the girl here. With the untamed power of her nectar, I knew she was certain to find it. Now, ask yourselves, would you rather have a Queen who can save the fate of the realm or have one who can’t protect her own children?”
“That’s not true,” said Bajai, her voice watery. “You tricked us, all of us. What you are doing is wrong. This is not going to give you happiness, Razya... Let us help heal you... All I ask—”
“Mother.” The Queen raised her arm. She discarded her garb of Mishti Daadi and returned to her Queenly self. “Don’t force my hand.”
Sparks of electricity crackled from her nails and she took aim at Rea.
“N-N-No,” cried Bajai. “Take w-whatever you w-want. Just give us the children.”
“I will take nothing that isn’t rightfully mine by destiny and power. My people,” she said, casting her serpent-green eyes over the crowd, “if you desire the return of your former queen, all you must do is stand up. Stand up and choose her, and I will step aside, honoring your wishes as the inhabitants of our realm.”
The people of Astranthia, terrified as they were, looked at Amma clutching her wounded arm with tears falling down her face and turned to Bajai, their once-queen, who was trembling in despair. They didn’t have to give an answer. Even if they had picked the losing candidate, none had the courage to say so.
A smile slithered onto the Queen’s face.
“The people have spoken.”
Her gown, hot and burning, swirled with spitting curls of fire. On her command, the Minister of Ceremony and Rites plucked a thorn from the stem of the Som and recited the holy words. He made his way towards Rohan, barely conscious in the arms of the minister who held his chains.
Amma charged at him. She let loose beams of nectar as a line of guards rushed into action, seizing her. When they came for Bajai, she cried helplessly and surrendered into the hands of the Imperial Guard she had once ruled over.
Rea wept with her whole heart.
Rohan glanced unsteadily at the approaching minister and offered his hand. The minister pricked his finger and a drop of Rohan’s blood fell on the sacred Som.
Chapter 31
Swirls of Shadows
A ripple of blinding light surged through the forest and the petal fused together with the sacred Som. The blast threw Rea and the guard backwards and the ministers and noble persons toppled over their chairs. Villagers curled into their knees. Soldiers held onto their weapons, trying in vain to remain upright, and flying high above, pari-folk cheered like euphoric fans.
Astranthia was replenished again.
Rea took advantage of the seconds everyone needed to recover and darted into the expanse of darkness. Her adrenaline soared. When no guards came chasing after her, she tiptoed towards the ceremonial circle. Xeranther was pocketing a fallen conch similar to the one the guard had used to announce the Queen’s arrival and signaling to Leela, he climbed nimbly up a tree. A ring of golden-blue light was spreading towards the horizon and from between the silhouette of trees, Rea glimpsed the sacred flower. Revitalized, it had begun its descent into the ground. Astranthia would live until the next heir turned twelve.
“BE IT KNOWN UNTO ALL THAT THE SACRED SOM HAS DECREED RAZYA ZULGAR OF THE HOUSE OF FLUR TO CONTINUE AS THE RULER OF ASTRANTHIA! LONG AND BOUNTIFUL BE HER REIGN!” the guard announced over the din of people and pounding of drums.
“Beloved Astranthians,” the Queen said, her arms wide.
Rohan’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. Saliva frothed from the corner of his mouth and his body jerked in fits. Neither the minister nor the dwarves standing beside him moved a muscle.
Rea’s eyes fixed on the stage as her body pulsed with pure nectral energy. Rage and despair coursed through her veins. Her fingers tingled. And a current shot up her spine. She could feel the blood of the nectar building in her chest like pressure before a storm.
“This ends now,” she whispered and raised her hands.
Suddenly, the minister holding Rohan buckled to the ground. He twitched in pain as the Queen, mid-word, flew backwards like a bird swept up in a gale. The crowd gasped as they beheld Rea, beams of white-hot energy shooting from her palms, her nectral magic blinding. People cried and shrieked as she tossed aside the soldiers of the Imperial Guard like rag cloths. She closed her palms into a fist and the beams disappeared. When she opened them, silvery beams shot forth.
The captain and his soldiers charged at her. Their swords shapeshifted into spiked maces and arrows flew from all sides. Amidst the commotion, Amma gave the guards the slip. She sprinted towards Rohan lying abandoned and motionless on the ground and shot Rea a glance to say, ‘Escape! I’ve got him!’ A wildness had taken over Amma and wielding her magic, she made quick wo
rk of the guards trying to stop her.
Escape was the last thing on Rea’s mind. She prowled forth, her eyes on the hunt for one person. Beams of her magic swirled in the air, striking the dwarves, the captain, and the throwers of arrows. She forged ahead, venturing deeper into the forest.
Whole trees had fallen. Branches blazed. Smoke and fumes choked the air. Rea grabbed one of the flaming branches and a flash of electricity whizzed past.
She swiveled around.
Blood dripped from a cut across the Queen’s cheek. Her hair had come undone, dirty with forest debris, and her gown was torn, smeared in ash. Her crown was nowhere to be seen. Rea threw down the branch and set loose two sizzling beams. She was aglow, burning with nectral magic.
The Queen ducked, firing sprays of nectar. The air turned sinister red. Rea leaped sideways, but the current pierced her, sending shocks through her body. Stumbling, she held onto a tree and it burst in flames. Mortified, she sprang to the side, gasping for breath.
“You think you can beat me? You are nothing but a tea picker from a small village in a foreign land,” the Queen sneered.
“I’M AS ASTRANTHIAN AS YOU ARE. OR ARE YOU AFRAID OF WHAT I CAN DO?”
“Afraid of a child?”
Shafts of magic burst from the Queen’s fingertips and Rea, prepared this time, dodged out of the way. Taking cover behind a fallen tree, she retaliated with beam after beam of her own nectar as if she was bowling in a cricket match. A fast-paced beam, a bouncer beam, a top-spinner beam! The Queen avoided all but one and fell.
Rea stepped into view. “We had a deal. You promised to release Rohan.” She readied to take her aim, and the Queen vanished and materialized beside her ear.
“Get used to it, dearie. Promises mean little to our family.”
Rea jumped out of her skin and the Queen cachinnated in loud chuckles.
“Betrayal is in our blood. It’s a trait I’ve inherited just as you have. Haven’t you been a betrayer, too? Lying, hiding, plotting, conniving, thinking of only yourself?”
