The Skyfall Era Trilogy: Books 1-3

by Matt Larkin

  A shout went up on the deck outside. Damn, Empu Baradah must have returned already. If Malin hadn’t wasted so much time waiting in the rainforest … He shook his head, then rushed to stand beside the cabin door. Only a little more patience. He slipped his keris free from his sarong.

  Even through the door he heard the captain shouting orders about raising the anchor and setting course. The ship lurched into movement soon thereafter. Malin cursed. If they got too far away from his own dhow his people might not see a signal. But if he revealed himself prematurely, that coward Empu Baradah might escape him once again. Malin was not going to let that happen. Not this time. Protect and avenge. Avenge!

  At long last, the door creaked open, and the First walked into the cabin, shutting it behind himself. Malin made not a single sound as he slunk up behind Empu Baradah. The man looked with curiosity at the open window, perhaps wondering if he had left it open.

  Malin slammed his keris through Empu Baradah’s ribs and up into his lungs, at the same time wrapping an arm around the man’s throat, cutting off any sound his prey might make. “That is for Simhika,” he snarled into the man’s ear. He jerked his knife free, then sunk it into the murderer’s gut. “One for Calon, who, wicked though she was, was still a mother.”

  Malin spun the man around to face him, then pushed him against the cabin wall, meeting his gaze, while being sure never to let go. Probably the man was in far too much agony to Stride, but Malin was taking no chances. He freed his knife once more, held it before the First’s eyes, then rammed it into the man’s throat. A spray of hot blood coated Malin’s face. “And that,” he said, leaning very close and licking the blood off his lips, “is for the dozens if not hundreds of Macan Gadungan dead by your hands. For my mates, my whelps, and my brothers and sisters. Rangda devour your soul, Butcher.”

  The Solar’s wide eyes seemed to want to speak, but, even could the First have done so, Malin had no interest in anything he had to say. He held Empu Baradah until the man stilled, then let his body slump to the floor. Malin sunk down onto the captain’s berth, wiped the rest of the blood from his face, and let out a long breath.

  Seizing this ship was an opportunity. Rahu would no doubt rejoice at the death of any Arun Guard, much less the one who had murdered his wife. But the War King wanted the Astral Temple. And finally, after more than twenty years, Malin was in a position to give it to him. The Solars would never suspect one of their own ships. Malin would wait for nightfall, slip out of the cabin and kill all the Solars on this ship, then signal his people to come and help him man it. The Solars would never be alert to danger from one of their own ships, much less the ship of the Arun Guard.

  This was, perhaps, the true reason Rahu had created the Macan Gadungan all along. To take the Temple. Why didn’t really matter anymore. Malin would give the War King what he wanted, and Rahu would finally give Malin and his people the respect and freedom they deserved. Malin would demand it. More than twenty years he had served as a bodyguard to the man. The Jadian had served all the Moon Scion Houses, solidifying Rahu’s hold over the Empire.

  It was time they were given their due.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Dozens of bodies still floated in the water, though the sharks had begun to swarm, turning the sea around Astral Shore crimson. The wreck of one dhow had washed up on the beach. Another had already sunk, though its mast still poked out of the shallow sea offshore. A third was aflame and, Ben knew, beyond all saving. Nowhere did he see signs of life and he had to assume the Astral Temple had been sacked as well. He dared not head up there to investigate.

  Some of his crew wept openly, others tried to hide it. Ben’s jaw trembled. He had seen such savagery before, in his days in the Serendibian navy, but he had hoped never to bear witness to its like again. A cold numbness settled over him. He’d been on his way back from Kutai when a crewman had seen the flames.

  This was supposed to make his fortune. He’d taken Malin to Bukit, gotten his payday, and reaped a killing in Kutai. Now it was supposed to be off to Suladvipa with Landi and … He shook his head. His crew was looking to him to buoy their spirits. They needed him, and for them, he was going to need to be strong.

  “Search for survivors, but don’t approach the shore,” he ordered. The Lunars must surely be in control of the Temple and he couldn’t risk them coming after the Queen of the South Sea. Of course, he knew there was no way anyone could have made it through this massacre.

  “Survivor off the port side,” someone shouted.

  Ben offered a slight nod at the sea. Yes, the goddess did seem to love proving him wrong. Since he was almost never wrong, it seemed only fair to acknowledge her occasional victory. He trotted over to port where a man was threading through the disaster on a jukung, though he hardly seemed a master of the outrigger. As the man drew nearer, Ben realized with some shock that he was a foreigner. His skin was tanned by the sun but still much fairer than any native of the South Sea, and he had red-gold hair hanging down almost to his shoulders. He also had a powerful frame, obviously a warrior or heavy laborer. Given that he was alone, Ben had to assume the man wasn’t working for the Lunars.

  “Bring him aboard,” Ben said. “Get the man some water.”

  The crew did as he’d ordered, helping the stranger climb up the Queen, then offering him water and a coconut, both of which he took. The stranger sipped the water eagerly, then slammed the coconut down onto the gunwale, breaking it in two. Ben’s eyebrow raised. That was impressive.

  “Who are you?”

  The foreigner pulled at the coconut meat, then took a few bites while looking around, as if disoriented by the whole scene. Traumatized? Ben had seen that before, too. It happened in such circumstances.

  “Do you know where you are?” Ben asked.

  The man stared at him, blinked once, then shook his head.

  “You’re off the coast of Puradvipa, near Astral Shore. You’ve just been through a battle, and one that looks like about as much fun as trying to get a Warak Ngendog to dance by the look of it. Can you tell me anything about what happened here? Who did this?”

  The foreigner looked around the ship, watching the faces of the crew intently, then shut his eyes. Right, so maybe he had a concussion. Or maybe he’d tried opening coconuts with his head once or twice.

  “All right,” Ben said. “Let’s find this man a place to sit down and rest, but don’t let him sleep yet.”

  “Where is Rahu?” the foreigner asked, his voice low, his accent slightly off, a little too slow.

  “The Lunar War King? Was he here? Did you see him do this?”

  “Lunar. You’re Solars?”

  “Ah, well. I, my friend, am out of Serendib, of course. But the crew is from the Solar Empire, indeed, and we are heading back there. Which means, you, in fact, are heading to the Solars as well.”

  The foreigner’s eyes were green as emeralds, and when he looked at Ben now, any hint of confusion had passed from them. Indeed, they held such intensity, Ben had to take a step back. “I saw what happened here, yes. Weretigers stormed the temple in the night. Take me to your emperor and I will explain it all to him. And him alone.”

  Ben frowned. The foreigner wasn’t nearly so addled as he’d first appeared and Ben was far from certain that introducing the man to Kakudmi was a good idea. But then, that would really be for the emperor to decide. If this stranger was a witness to the events, and quite possibly the only survivor, Kakudmi would undoubtedly want to know.

  This was, after all, most likely the advent of the Fifth War.

  PART FOUR

  1194 AP, The Rainy Season

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  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 Str
ode 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 burned 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’d 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 up to Naresh’s side, and 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 shipping some sugar, Guardsman, and doing a fine job of it, as always. But then,” he glanced about the garden, “only the Arun Guard present here? Good. On my way back from Kutai, I saw something … dire. 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.”

  “I already took the witness to see the emperor and the Radiant Queen,” Ben called after him.

  Naresh would have preferred to speak with this witness himself first, but it no longer mattered. He 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 that shouldn’t have ever been 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 THIRTY-TWO

  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 was lost in her books once again.

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

  “I wish the Solars would create more plays,” Ratna complained, not for the first time. Kakudmi had ordered transcripts of plays from Bukit, though Chandi suspected he’d done so more to keep Ratna quiet than out of real care for her happiness.

  Chandi glanced at the book in Ratna’s hands. It didn’t look like any play, but then, Chandi had no real interest in books. “Ratna,” she said, pulling her cousin to her feet, “please, let’s go out. We can visit the Academy, listen to the music. Or take Revati to the park.” Yesterday had seen the first showers. If they wanted to appreciate the last of the sunshine, they should go today.