The Skyfall Era Trilogy: Books 1-3

by Matt Larkin

  “I won’t be separated from you, Chandi. Not again.”

  She nodded. Once she would have said the same. “If I do this, maybe these people will finally see me as one of them. I can’t live as a pariah, Naresh. Whatever part I may have played in the Fifth War, if you want to make a life with me on Suladvipa, I need the people to trust me.”

  Naresh shook his head. “No. Chasing after imaginary power is madness. We have real power, right here on this island. Semar and the Firewalkers. It’s time for a real alliance with them. Equal partners.”

  Chandi set her tea down on the table. “Never. Naresh, no. The man is manipulative, conniving, and dangerous.”

  Ben chuckled and winked at Landi. “Normally I’d call those worthy traits in an ally. But I’m with Chandi on this. Semar is more than he appears.”

  Landorundun rose, pacing as she brushed her hair from her face, though Chandi’s house had little room for the Guardswoman to walk about. “I think Naresh is right on this, Ben.”

  “Thank you,” Naresh said, folding his arms.

  “I know Semar gave you and Chandi reason not to trust him … But we have to pursue all possible allies at this point. Right now, Ketu has us sorely overmatched.”

  Naresh nodded, and Ben said nothing. Chandi bit her lip. Why wouldn’t they ever listen to her? Did Naresh and Landorundun really think Semar would help them?

  “It’s settled, then,” Landorundun said. “Naresh will remain here and unite the people of Suladvipa. The three of us will take the Queen of the South Sea to find her namesake, as soon as the vessel is repaired.”

  Ben rose to stand beside the Guardswoman. “Don’t worry, Naresh. We’ll take care of your wife. Chandi likes me. Don’t you? I’m a kind and endearing scoundrel.”

  Naresh folded his arms and scowled at her when they left. “You could have supported me. You don’t really believe in this mermaid nonsense?”

  Why couldn’t it be true? If there was darkness and secrets and horror in Kahyangan, couldn’t there be beautiful mysteries as well? “I have to do something.”

  “So help me forge an alliance with Semar. You know him. You can help ensure he doesn’t manipulate us. We need to destroy Ketu, Malin, and the rest of the Lunar Empire.”

  “Destroy the Lunar Empire? Murder my father?” She rose. “What in Rangda’s frozen underworld is wrong with you? I agree we need to stop him, but we can do that without—”

  Naresh leapt up. “Stop him? He killed our people. He assaulted our entire island. He helped drown Kasusthali and indirectly led to the murder of my mother. Why wouldn’t I kill him?”

  Chandi stepped away from him. “Because it’s that kind of thinking that brought us the five wars. Because you told me we had to let go of the past. You told me for peace to last we had to forgive. Where’s your forgiveness now? Your father would be ashamed of you. Whatever horrible things he did, at least they weren’t in cold blood. Even when he killed my mother at least—”

  “My father? You never even met my father. How would you know?”

  “Of course I met …” Chandi shook her head. Damn.

  “Empu Baradah killed your mother. My father died in that same battle.”

  “Yes, I’m sorry. Forget it, Naresh.”

  Naresh shook his head. He reached out to her. “What are you saying? Tell me.”

  “Nothing.”

  He grabbed her arms and squeezed until it hurt. His eyes pleaded with her. Why couldn’t he let this go? Why did she have to open her mouth about this? She tried to pull away, but he held her too tightly. “Tell me the truth.”

  She looked away. “Please, Naresh. It’s nothing. Just sit down.”

  “You promised me no more lies. You swore to me there would be no more secrets between us. You promised me.”

  Chandi grunted from the pain in her arm. She bit her lip and looked into his eyes. But he’d never get past it, if she didn’t tell him. And she had promised no more lies. “Kakudmi told us … Empu Baradah was your real father. His affair with Aji Bidara started before you were born.”

  His hands dropped from her arms. Angry marks where his fingers had squeezed lingered on her skin. Still she reached for him, but he backed away.

  “Told us?”

  Chandi sighed. “We were all there, Naresh.”

  “Everyone knew.” He clenched his fists at his side. “Landi? Ben? You all knew the truth about my family, and no one told me. Not even my wife. How … How could you keep something like this from me? I’m the bastard son of an affair? I thought they only got together after my father died. I thought … And you, you lied to me. Again.”

  Chandi took a step toward him. He backed away more and raised his hands to the side of his head.

  No. Please, Chandra, she needed him. “I thought you’d already lost so much, already accepted it. I thought it’d be easier if you didn’t have to know.”

  Naresh shook his head and forestalled her with a hand between them. “Is that what you thought? Or maybe it’s just that your spying and lies got him killed in the first place. Your actions killed my father, Chandi. But worse, you lied about it for over a year.”

  Chandi nodded. Her jaw trembled. “Yes. But you should take a long look at where you’re heading, Naresh. You blame yourself for all the death that’s happened in the Fifth War. So you think to rectify it by slaughtering everyone that stands in our way?”

  Naresh inched toward her. He started to reach for her. She tried to force the rage from her face. They had to get past this. They needed each other, they were a part of each other. And she wouldn’t let this destroy them. She tried to take his hand.

  “Please, Naresh. You don’t see how you’re changing, do you? This fury is going to—”

  Naresh pushed her aside and walked onto the porch. Then he Strode and was gone.

  “Naresh?” She ran out onto the porch. “Naresh!”

  If he was even close enough to hear her, he didn’t answer. Had she betrayed him again?

  All night she waited. She watched the rain. She watched the moon and searched the stars.

  He didn’t return.

  The sun had begun to rise when Ben drew near. “We have to leave now, to make the tide.”

  They were always chasing one tide or another. She’d thought leaping into the arena beneath Bukit would be the end of it. That in that final decision, she’d no longer have so many forces pulling her and Naresh apart.

  Yet even with the Solar Empire in ruins, he still felt bound by duty. Wasn’t his first duty to her? But he’d never quite seen it. If she saved these people, maybe they could give her a home. Then could Naresh let all this go and become himself again? Please, Chandra let him find his way back. If she stayed, she might reach him. But if he had turned his back on her, only Ben and Landorundun were left to her.

  And whatever her father had done, he was still her father. She could see him removed from power, imprisoned if need be. But not murdered.

  Chandi stood. Her muscles ached from sitting on the porch all night. Ben must have seen the look on her face, because he didn’t ask about Naresh. When she climbed down the ladder, he just took her arm and led her to the harbor.

  The Queen of the South Sea stood at the end of Daha’s longest pier. A long walk to it.

  “My lady, are you certain you wish to come?” Bendurana asked.

  “I have to.” She had to prove to everyone she belonged here. To Naresh most of all? Yes, because if she could save this island with the help from some mermaid, they could finally make a home here.

  Chandi stared up at the dhow. Then she hiked up the gangway.

  Hainuwele stood with Landorundun on the deck. Sweet Chandra, don’t say the woman was coming along.

  “I’m sorry about … everything,” Hainuwele said to her sister. “Make sure you return safely, sister.”

  Hainuwele looked at Landorunrun like she was losing a child. Chandi guessed Hainuwele must be five or six years older than her. Enough that Hainuwele might well have helped ra
ise Landorundun when she was young.

  What would it have been like, had Chandi’s own mother lived? If she’d had an older woman to talk to about life as she grew up? Maybe she would have found a way to deal with her frustration that didn’t involve beating someone bloody. She smiled. Maybe not.

  “I hope we’ll be back before the season is out,” Landorundun said. “Tell our parents not to worry.”

  Hainuwele brushed her hair from her eyes, then pressed a prayer medallion into Landorundun’s hand.

  “We have to go if we want to make the tide,” Bendurana said.

  Hainuwele joined the few others offshore that had come to see the ship off. Chandi searched the shore for Naresh. Where was he? Could he really let her leave like this? Damn him.

  Please, Naresh?

  “We’ll start our search in the Spice Islands,” Bendurana said as the ship pulled away. “I have contacts there that might be able to help us. The Spice Islanders have more lore on Kahyangan than anyone else I know.”

  Chandi blew out a breath. The idea of searching the whole South Sea for its possibly mythological queen hadn’t seemed so insane until now. She’d had this feeling in her stomach before, when she’d agreed to serve as Ratna’s handmaid in Kasusthali. Funny, she’d made that voyage on the Queen of the South Sea as well.

  Chandi fought the urge to jump over the rail and swim back to land before it was too far. Landorundun moved beside her. She rubbed her fingers over the image of Surya on her prayer medallion. She pointed to the roof of the harbormaster’s building.

  Naresh was there. Watching them.

  Chandi started to raise her hand to wave to him. Let him wave first. Let him wave. She prayed he would. And then he was gone.

  Chandi grabbed the rail and tried to catch her breath. Gone? Naresh? Had her pride stopped her? Chandi shut her eyes, trembling.

  “He’s going to be fine,” Landorundun said. “Naresh is stronger than even he realizes. He could draw everyone to him, if he tried. He just doesn’t see it.”

  “I used to think you two didn’t even like each other.”

  Landorundun laughed. “Sometimes we don’t. But I wouldn’t want anyone else at my back in a fight.”

  Chandi stared in the direction of Daha long after it had faded from sight. She’d just left her husband with no one at his back.

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED FOUR

  A dead tiger lay pinned under a fallen tree. A real tiger—a weretiger would have returned to human form in death. Ketu’s cyclone had left Suladvipa in a sorrier state than Malin had ever seen. The new War King might not be the lunatic the old one was. But destroying the better part of an entire Isle to kill one man wasn’t far off.

  Malin liked traveling at night. The moon was bright—almost full—and he could see nearly as well as in day. His dreams of Kahyangan had faded at last, but Malin still felt little desire to sleep.

  And the moon called him, or the spirit within. Almost impossible to resist shifting as the full moon neared. The spirit inside ached for it, like lust too long denied.

  The reports gave him the general location of Pottala. Finding it from there wouldn’t pose much trouble. He passed the time by practicing drawing his Blessings. Speed and strength he could do at will, now. Glamour—well, at least it didn’t happen by accident as often anymore.

  A bellow shook the trees. A flock of nightjars took flight. That sound. Warak Ngendog. Malin drew his Blessings and dashed toward it.

  The creatures came from Suladvipan rainforests. Once, the Arun Guard had mastered them using the Sun Brand. Now, the beasts probably ran amok.

  The cyclone had shown some mercy to the Igni town. The Warak Ngendog did not. The thirty-foot tall creature rampaged around the town, stomping anything in its path. An Igni drew fire to his hands. Flung it at the rainbow-colored beast.

  The fire rolled over its hide, driving it into greater frenzy. Its dragon-like head snatched up the Firewalker and bit him in half. It leapt into the air, flapping its feathered wings. The thing couldn’t fly, but it managed to glide and land atop a building.

  The house collapsed under its great weight. Malin cursed and tore off his baju. The creature bowled over more Ignis with its tail as Malin shifted. The spirit inside him roared, climbing its way to the surface. It dug its claws through him, fighting for control of his mind. Malin embraced it. Fur burst through his skin, his bones reshaping. Muscles tore, thickened. Glorious agony.

  He drew his Potency Blessing. The ground flew past him. He’d never had such a sense of speed. He drew his Blessings harder. His leap carried him to the roof of an Igni house. His next one flung him through the air at the Warak Ngendog.

  The dragon roared and swung its head to intercept him. Malin was faster. His claws ripped through the beast’s eyes, his teeth closed around its nostrils. His momentum carried the creature down by its neck.

  The ground shook as the Warak Ngendog lost its footing and crashed down. Malin sprung free, then dove for the dragon’s neck. The creature’s blood ran down his throat. The beast roared. So did Malin. His teeth ripped through its scales.

  Malin’s perch shook as the blinded creature tried to swing back to its feet. He dug his claws into its long neck. Bit harder.

  The creature swung its neck back and forth, its bellows now turned into strangled gurgles. Malin lost his grip and flew through the air, crashing through the wall of a house.

  Splinters tore gashes even in his thick skin. His head slammed against something. Blackness.

  Malin shook himself to clear his head. He was lying on the floor. He’d reverted to human form.

  By the sounds outside, he’d been out only a moment. The house was empty, so he grabbed a sarong from the dresser before heading out.

  The Warak Ngendog had fallen again. The blood pouring from its throat had begun to slow, and with it, the thing’s breath. An Igni with a Solar keris sword ran his blade through the beast’s empty eye socket.

  Malin shook himself again and stalked toward the man. No sacred flame on his baju, so maybe he was a Solar after all. The man jerked his keris free and held it before him when Malin approached.

  “I’ve come to see the leader of this town.”

  The man waved his sword at him. “You’re not going anywhere, Macan Gadungan.”

  Malin drew his Blessings again. “You think you can stop me?” He continued forward, glaring into the Solar’s eyes.

  The Solar swung. Malin dodged. The man had skill, but no way to match Malin’s speed. Malin caught the Solar by the wrist in one hand and the throat with the other. A simple twist of his wrist and the Solar dropped the sword.

  Malin flung the man aside. The Solar flew through the air and crashed into a pile of rubble. He’d live.

  “Where is your leader?” he said, addressing the gathered crowd.

  Another Firewalker drew the flames from a hearth. Fire spiraled around his hands. Malin glared until the man let the fire dwindle.

  The Solar had staggered to his feet. Approached Malin again.

  “Enough, Lang,” someone said. Malin had never spoken to Semar, but he knew the man’s scent. “I’ll speak to you later,” Semar told the Solar. “Welcome to Pottala, Malin. I suspect this town has never seen such a fearsome display.” Semar waved at the dead Warak Ngendog.

  Malin took a moment to survey the creature. He’d never heard of a Macan Gadungan killing one single-handedly before. The Amrita had made him something beyond weretiger or Moon Scion.

  Malin smiled.

  The Solar still glared at him. Better if he killed the man than left an enemy behind him. But Semar might not appreciate that.

  “I want to make an alliance with you,” Malin said.

  “The Lunar Empire already has an alliance with the Ignis.” But the look the priest gave him told Malin he already knew that wasn’t what he meant. The Ignis, at best, managed not to interfere with either Solars or Lunars.

  “I wish an alliance with the Ignis.”

  The Firewalkers might
not have brought down the Warak Ngendog, but those flames would annihilate a Moon Scion. Ketu’s forces would never stand against the Jadian and Firewalkers combined.

  Semar nodded, and turned back to the Shrine of Sacred Flame. Malin followed him inside. Dark, hot. The stone temple seemed like a prison. The fire pit at its heart cast flickering shadows over everything.

  “If the Ignis allied with the Macan Gadungan, what do you think would happen to the Lunar Empire?” Semar asked.

  It’d be ripped apart, of course. Malin had known that coming here. That was the idea.

  When he didn’t answer, Semar continued. “And that event, you believe, is in the best interest of your people? No matter how many may die because of it? No matter that all the Skyfall Isles may burn.”

  “I think,” Malin said after a moment, “you should let me kill the Solar.”

  “Lang is here as my guest. A formal ambassador to the Ignis. How would it look if harm came to him while he was here?”

  Malin grunted. He hadn’t really expected Semar to agree. “Here’s what I see, priest. Despite your clever words, despite your Firewalkers, Ketu holds the power in the Isles. He uses the Astral Temple like a cudgel to smash his enemies. Am I calloused over the cost of war? Ketu is more so. An eclipse that threw the heavens and tides into chaos. A cyclone that destroyed one of the Isles. I don’t want to see what else he comes up with.”

  “And suppose the Ignis help you seize the Astral Temple. What will you do with it? Will you turn it on your enemies?”

  “I wouldn’t know how.” Malin paused, watching the priest carefully. “Maybe it would be better if it was destroyed. It caused all five wars.”

  “Maybe it would. Do you think you could destroy it? Would you?”

  Malin shook his head. “Not sure. But I’d make sure no one used it as a weapon again.”

  And he’d free the Jadian from under the heel of the Moon Scions. If he revealed the Amrita, their hold on all Lunars would be broken forever.