The Skyfall Era Trilogy: Books 1-3

by Matt Larkin

  Ketu continued unabated. “This place holds the power of the gods, Malin. And now we will turn that power against the Solars.”

  Malin started to growl, but caught himself. “How will a ruined observatory help us in war?”

  Ketu turned from the strange devices and approached Malin. “You have not been listening, tiger. Take the Macan Gadungan, those that are here, and prepare to assault the Solar villages around this island. You’ll know when the moment is right. The power of Chandra will be on your side.”

  Malin nodded. When this was over, one day he would lead his people down here for the Amrita. Then the power of Chandra would indeed be on their side.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

  A Warak Ngendog reared up on its hind legs. The ground trembled as it landed, crushing helpless Lunar soldiers beneath it. Its tail smashed through a trio of warriors even as it bit another in half. From the rail of his ship Naresh could see the Deputy Minister of War had the beach engagement well in hand. Still the screams of battle and the clang of steel reached him.

  The Lunars had begun to surround the Warak Ngendog, concerting their efforts. A Sun Stride brought him into their midst. The Lunars might have expected an easy victory at this Solar river village. He intended to disabuse them of the notion they could attack villages without consequence. Two Lunars had died before they realized Naresh was among them.

  He waded among the remaining Lunar soldiers, dispatching them without mercy. If he had stopped the Stranger, maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe he could have prevented war. Maybe he could have found a place with Chandi.

  Another Lunar fell beneath Naresh’s blade. A dozen paces away a Lunar bludgeoned a Solar to death. Naresh Sun Strode behind the Lunar and cut him down.

  Soon, the fighting dwindled. Between the Warak Ngendog and the Arun Guard, the Lunars could not win. The Deputy Minister of War picked his way around the carnage toward Naresh. “The beach is ours, Guardsman.”

  “The village?”

  “They killed many of the people before we got here, razed many buildings. It’ll take the villagers months to repair all the damage. The Lunars didn’t want the village, they wanted to cut off our food supplies. They’re attacking other villages as we speak. We captured a few prisoners, but I doubt we’ll get much out of them.”

  “We’ll deal with the other villages when we’re finished here,” Naresh said, rubbing his face. “I want the survivors evacuated to Kasusthali. Prisoners too.”

  The Deputy Minister nodded. The man commanded the troops, but he would defer to Naresh in most other matters. Not just because of the Sun Brand. Everyone on the battlefield looked to the Arun Guard as leaders, protectors, champions. Naresh wasn’t sure he wanted or deserved the role anymore.

  He walked back to the edge of the water and knelt in the sand. The incoming tide washed over his knees. Though blood stained the beach and river red, the seawater remained crystal blue. Naresh glanced back at the carnage behind him, unable to reconcile what he had just done with the pure sea before him. He cupped his hands and splashed water over his face. His muscles ached and the bruises Chandi had given him hadn’t even begun to fade.

  He forced himself back to his feet and picked his way through the soldiers, both living and dead, trying not to gag at the stench of death. Those who lived would need to see him strong now, however he felt. A groan escaped a body on the ground. Naresh knelt beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Look at me,” he said. “Look at me.” The man’s eyes fluttered open. “Medic!”

  The man lifted his hand and Naresh grasped it. Terror blanketed the fallen soldier’s face.

  “It’s all right, you’ll be all right.”

  The man tried to speak, but it came out as a groan. His eyes grew wider and he lifted his other trembling hand to point at something beyond Naresh. When he turned, Naresh saw the medic running toward them. Other men stood as if in awe. Staring at the sky. At the sun. The edge of a shadow had fallen across the sun, a growing sliver of darkness. A chill ran through Naresh and his breath caught in his throat. Not possible.

  An eclipse.

  Solar astrologers predicted such events years in advance. They would have known.

  A roar erupted from the rainforest beyond the village. And another, and another. A chorus of nightmares.

  They didn’t have time to retreat to the ships. The Deputy Minister had seen it, moved to call the troops back into their battalions. One of those he had sent to the rainforest to hunt for stragglers.

  Naresh ran from the beach to the top of the nearest hill. From there he could see that scouting battalion, falling back in confusion, in fear. They had no Arun Guardsmen with them, no one to protect them from the horrors descending upon them.

  The edge of the rainforest was a wall of green.

  At first a single tiger emerged. Tigers followed on either side. The animals waited, watched as the Solar unit tried to order itself back into fighting companies.

  And then the tigers charged. The Macan Gadungan poured from the rainforest, an army of beasts. The Guard couldn’t have prepared for this. Weretigers shouldn’t have been able to assume animal forms. The moon passing before the sun would give the weretigers a few moments as tigers. Naresh could see they would break through the Solar battalion and reach the beach in those few moments.

  The last rays of sunlight winked out behind the shadow of the moon. They hadn’t known, hadn’t prepared. It was madness to think the Lunars could create an eclipse.

  Naresh pulled back his baju to check the sunburst tattoo. Already it had lost much of its luster, faded to a lifeless gold. He should have saved the energy. Shouldn’t have been so free in using it to slaughter Lunar soldiers when the battle was already won. Few of the Arun Guard would have full stores of energy now. They could recharge with a phase in sunlight, but with the sun hidden behind the moon they were lost. As Naresh slid the keris from its sheath once again, he prayed the eclipse would not last long.

  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 SEVENTY

  From the rainforest Malin could hear the sounds of battle, could feel the ground vibrate as the Warak Ngendog trampled 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. The 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 peek 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 that 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 SEVENTY-ONE

  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 Jadian 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 calm, 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 Potency 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?”

  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 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?”

  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. Her father could unleash the Jadian any time he wanted, while preventing the Arun Guard from charging their Sun Brands.

  “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 C
ircuit, 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.

  “I am not a child, nor a servant. I am a Moon Scion and I will save Naresh, at any cost.”

  The Radiant Queen’s eyes widened, but she nodded. “Then go with the speed of dawn.”

  She would. She ran all the way back to the palace, her chest heaving, lungs burning, then dashed inside. 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.