The Skyfall Era Trilogy: Books 1-3

by Matt Larkin

  Naresh looked the big man up and down again. It explained his appearance. Lembu Ampal didn’t meet his gaze, just stared at his feet.

  “Are you injured, brother?”

  The other Guardsman shook his head.

  “You will speak to him later,” Semar said. “Tell me why you’ve come, Guardsman.”

  When the fire priest beckoned, Naresh followed him inside the dark Shrine. No windows lit the interior, though a chimney over the fire pit let out smoke. Semar sat, legs crossed, on cushions beside the pit, and waved for Naresh to do the same.

  After he’d settled, Semar handed him a skin of water. Naresh eyed it a moment before drinking. Warm, a little bitter, but at least not stagnant. Had to drink slowly. Too fast, and he’d vomit it back up.

  “I wish you’d spoken to me before joining Pak Kertajaya, Pak Semar.”

  The priest fixed him with his unnerving gaze. “I imagine you wish many things worked out differently than they did.”

  “Speaking of which, why make Pak Lang a Firewalker?”

  “He wanted it so very much.”

  “Lots of people want power. Most don’t deserve it. Especially those who want it the most. You can’t really believe his uncle should become the Ratu Adil?”

  “What is the Ratu Adil? A figurehead to unite diverging people. Couldn’t it be anyone with the drive and force of character to call people to his or her banner? You, for example, could win the support of your people with a word. Imagine what you could accomplish if you chose to. Who would you become, given the crown of power?”

  Naresh took another sip of water. “I don’t want a crown of any kind. I’m a warrior, that’s all.”

  “You claim you’re not a leader, but your actions speak otherwise. Even the First of the Arun Guard often defers to your judgment.”

  No. “I advise Ibu Landorundun. That’s all. She’s new at this, needs the help. And how do you know what goes on between us, anyway? Are your spies that good?”

  “Was Kakudmi a good man? Was he a good emperor?”

  A good man? Without doubt. A good emperor? Maybe he would have been, if things had been different. He’d wanted to restore the Pact. Maybe that would have led him into the role of Ratu Adil. If anyone could have done it, Kakudmi could have.

  “I don’t know,” Naresh said at last. “He failed to save his people. In the end, the only person he saved at all was his daughter. And where did Kala take Revati, Semar? Is she safe?”

  “I don’t know where she is exactly. Not here.”

  “Chandi would call what you’ve done with Lang another betrayal. Maybe kill you for it.”

  Semar shook his head. “Chandi’s heart is pure. Sometimes it leads her more than her head. Do you think I can betray the Solar Empire if I did not hold loyalty to it in the first place? Consider, for just a moment, the larger perspective. Both the Solar and Lunar Empires were crumbling under the weight of their own corruption. What happened with the Igni revolt, what’s happened with the Macan Gadungan, do these seem the signs of healthy civilizations to you?”

  No. It had taken the fall of Kasusthali to show them the problems they had with the Ignis. The problems in how they’d treated the Ignis. And Chandi had tried to tell him that, well before the revolt started.

  But Naresh had to believe the Solar Empire could be saved. Its civilization had endured for twelve hundred years. It would not fall in two. He wouldn’t let it.

  “What is this power you’ve given Lang? Where did these Firewalkers come from, Semar?”

  The priest just stared at him in the darkness, his eyes almost sparkling.

  Naresh shifted. “Kertajaya won’t create the future you want. Lang certainly won’t either. They have no honor.”

  Semar nodded. “Then prove to me you are the better man. Maybe you want to become a Firewalker? But that power is for those who accept the burden of leadership that comes with shaping the future.”

  Naresh shook his head and rose. “You don’t know me. I’m not so easy to tempt with dreams of grandeur as Lang.”

  Semar smiled, his eyes sparkling, and waved toward the entrance of the Shrine. “I know you’re hungry. Make yourself at home in Pottala. You and Lembu Ampal are my guests for as long as you wish to remain. Kertajaya will not harm you here.”

  Yes. Lembu Ampal. Naresh needed to see him.

  But food first.

  One of Semar’s acolytes waved Naresh over as soon as he exited the temple. Naresh followed him into a small teahouse. Small, but nice, each booth separated by bamboo divider walls. And, thank Surya, open windows to let in light.

  The acolyte waved for him to sit, and someone brought him a bowl of steaming stew.

  “What is it?”

  “Coto Makassar. An Igni specialty. Beef stew with cow intestine.”

  Naresh glanced at the stew, then back at the acolyte. Well, he was starving. “I thought you ate Solar food?”

  “Solars assume many things about Ignis.”

  Maybe that was true. He needed to reevaluate everything, if he was to build a true alliance with these people. “Would you ask Pak Lembu Ampal to join me?”

  The acolyte nodded, and departed.

  Naresh sipped the stew. Spicy, though not as much as Lunar food. He needed to eat slowly as well.

  He’d emptied half the bowl when Lembu Ampal slid into the booth across from him. Naresh clapped a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Brother. Tell me of your ordeals, and I will tell you of mine.”

  They hadn’t been friends, not really. But Naresh didn’t know if the man had any friends, and he needed someone. A few days of Lunar captivity had sapped Naresh’s spirit—what would a year without sunlight do to an Arun Guard?

  Lembu Ampal fingered the silver medallion he wore around his neck. He said little, mostly just sipped his tea and listened. So Naresh told him of his capture, his trials in Bukit, and his marriage to Chandi.

  “You weren’t in Kasusthali?” Lembu Ampal said at last. “When it happened?”

  Naresh shook his head.

  “Could you have stopped it? If you were?”

  Naresh had asked himself that question too often, with no answer.

  When he spread his hands in uncertainty, Lembu Ampal stood. “Welcome to Pottala, Pak Naresh.”

  The big man left him alone in the teahouse.

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED SEVEN

  Record sheets littered the floor of the Hill Palace. Ratna tossed another one aside. The notes went back before even Rahu and Ketu had come to Bukit. Malin had said Ketu was not really her uncle. It took time to look into, especially given the chaos his betrayal had created.

  No one had disputed the claims that Ketu and Rahu were brothers from House Soma. But House Shravana’s records had been buried here, too. No mention of either name, at least not among the elite of House Soma, and House Shravana had kept records of the lines of succession on all twenty-seven Moon Scion Houses. So Rahu and Ketu had created lineages that, as far as she could tell, didn’t exist.

  She’d sent away to other cities for their records. House Soma had been wiped out before the Fourth War, save for the two brothers. But if they were House Soma, why were there no records of them?

  If Malin spoke the truth, and Ketu wasn’t her uncle, it meant either Rahu was not her real father, or, more likely, Ketu was not really her father’s brother.

  The pain started again. A sudden clenching in her chest, sharp, like the blade of a knife twisting over her heart. Breathe. Breathe.

  She placed her palms on the desk in front of her and shut her eyes. She’d sent men to Puradvipa to seek out Mahesa. Those who’d returned did so empty-handed. Where was he? The pressure built in her chest, the sudden clenching. Breathe. He might still be well. She had to believe that. Just like Revati was well.

  If Mahesa had fallen prey to Malin’s revolt, she’d have the tiger skinned. Why, why had she trusted the Macan Gadungan? Dozens of Moon Scions had died that first night, when their trusted bodyguards turned on them. One woman
had stumbled down the street, clutching her slit throat as her blood poured through her fingers.

  The werecrocodiles had scuttled the ships, ensuring no one could chase the Jadian as they fled. Fires had reduced at least a hundred homes to cinders. That next morning, when the fires had died down, Ratna had tried to find shelter for the homeless, but there were hundreds of them, huddled together, clutching each other.

  The absence of her bodyguard might have saved her life. Could Malin have killed her? It seemed unthinkable. He’d been there since her earliest memories, always watching over her. Waiting to betray them all.

  But so many had died. She couldn’t be sure how many Moon Scions there were, but her best guess was that the Jadian betrayal had destroyed almost a fifth of the population. More than half the Moon Scions in Bukit, including several House lords. She had to give it to Malin, he didn’t think small.

  She could look back and see it rising in him, of course. He’d grown bolder every day since her father died. And, maybe, though she hated to admit it, he’d even tried to warn her. Not that he’d had any right to take this course. Her father had created him. He owed all of his power to the Moon Scions.

  “They’ve arrived, my lady,” her advisor said.

  Ratna sighed and pushed the papers away. “No one is to disturb this room.”

  In her own room, she checked her hair, then donned her black baju, worked with songket embroidery. After a moment, she settled on a tame headdress. Authoritative, without being gaudy.

  They waited for her in the courtyard, Bukit’s remaining House lords. Nine men and women, sitting on mats around the fishpond.

  She greeted each in turn, before taking her seat in the circle. “What news from the front lines?”

  “Ketu still holds the Astral Temple, but much of Puradvipa has fallen to Malin’s rebels,” Tumang, of House Rohini, said. “I sent our troops there on your orders.”

  “Good.”

  The lords fell to arguing about Suladvipa. Malin’s forces had withdrawn, as far as she knew. But Semar’s Firewalkers had abandoned their Moon Scion allies.

  “We should wipe out the Firewalkers without delay,” one lord said.

  Others argued for reconciliation.

  Ratna scoffed. “They betrayed the Solars. They betrayed us. We cannot trust them now.”

  On that, she and Ketu agreed. No one knew where their terrifying power came from, which made them too great a threat. And only a fool would depend on those who had betrayed two alliances in two years.

  “With the Arun Guard broken,” she said, “the Empire might not need the Macan Gadungan either. It might be best to wipe out both Jadian bloodlines.” She kept her eyes on Tumang.

  “Is that wise?” he said. “Such attitude may make reconciliation impossible.”

  “We don’t want to reconcile. We want to purify the Lunar Empire. Ketu plans to eliminate all supernatural threats to the Moon Scions. That means the Firewalkers, Arun Guard, and the Jadian are finished.”

  Several Moon Scions nodded their approval.

  “Still, before we can clean away that mess, we must eliminate the traitors in our midst.”

  Tumang nodded, and rose. She’d had him gathering information on the other lords. Information she could use to blackmail them.

  One had poisoned his brother for his position. Another cheated on his wife. A third ran a pirate cabal. These things she could forgive. But she’d made sure these men knew she knew. Made sure she could count on them to follow her orders without question.

  She waved her hand, and the three men jumped up and seized Tumang before he could point out the supposed traitor.

  “What is this?” he said.

  “Did you know my uncle recorded your death, Sangkuriang? No one else here seemed to know it. According to him, Malin executed you a year and a half ago. And yet you return, claiming to be a Scion of House Rohini.”

  “I … I am.”

  She nodded at one of the men holding him. The man punched Tumang—Sangkuriang—in the stomach. He shuddered. But it held.

  “They said you were a master of the Glamour.” Ratna nodded at the man again, and again he punched Sangkuriang.

  This time, the Glamour fell, Sangkuriang coughing. The man struggled in the grasp of his captors. But they were all Moon Scions, and he wasn’t going to break free.

  “There’s no record of Tumang of House Rohini, and believe me, I’ve spent a great deal of time searching records lately.” And that alone had been enough to have the man watched, to see who he really was. “So who was Tumang?”

  “My dog.”

  Ratna stared at the traitor. Then she laughed. His dog? “Your visits to Malin in Malayadvipa provided us an opportunity, Sangkuriang. You’d feed our false information to the weretiger, and I’d send the real orders to our troops. The Macan Gadungan will try to ambush our forces on Puradvipa, but fall into their own trap.”

  “But I served you.” He’d ceased struggling.

  “A bonus. I doubt your further usefulness will outweigh the risk of having a traitor in our midst. But I won’t make Ketu’s mistake.” She waved to one of the men she’d blackmailed. “He’s a traitor to our people. Execute him. Here.”

  The man she’d ordered looked into Sangkuriang’s eyes before running him through with a keris.

  Ratna felt a little bile rise in her throat. She hadn’t expected that. Her father never mentioned the look in someone’s eyes when you had them killed.

  Ratna watched the fish in the pond while servants dragged the body away. She didn’t speak until she was sure they’d left the palace. “I trust we all understand what’s at stake now. Malin has bribed, blackmailed, or otherwise conscripted some of our Moon Scion brethren. Even now, they may try to infiltrate our forces, sending reports, waiting to take advantage of any weakness. They are traitors to their own kind and deserve no mercy. And the Macan Gadungan themselves must be destroyed.”

  The Moon Scions bowed and left her.

  “You did well,” Tanjung said from the shadows of the courtyard.

  How long had the witch been there? Ratna sat beside the fishpond and brushed her fingers through the water.

  The witch drifted over and knelt behind her, hand on Ratna’s shoulder. The woman ran her fingers through Ratna’s hair. Ratna closed her eyes. Her mother could have done this, if she hadn’t been murdered during the Battle of Bangdvipa, all those years ago.

  “There’s only one way to deal with betrayal,” Tanjung said. “However much it pains us, we do what we have to.”

  “What do you know of betrayal?” She’d trusted Tumang, at first, but she could get over that. But Malin she’d known her entire life. He was supposed to be there for her. Instead, he’d abandoned her and betrayed the Lunar Empire.

  And her supposed uncle had kept so many truths from her. What was his obsession with the Astral Temple? Had he created the cyclone with it? Some claimed he wielded the power of Chandra with the Moon God’s blessing. Some claimed he worked blasphemies in the shadows of the temple.

  Both had betrayed her, and now, would she have to watch that look in their eyes when they died? Did she want Ketu dead? Perhaps not, but the man was not good for either her or the Lunar people.

  Tanjung stroked the back of Ratna’s neck, her gentle touch almost enough to loosen the tightness. Almost. “I’m a widow, too. I married, just around the time you were born. Beautiful man, named Sidapaksa. The man could laugh away the night, when we weren’t enwrapped in each other’s arms.

  “Then one night, we were invited to visit Sulakrama, lord of House Rohini in the north. While Sidapaksa was entertaining the guests with another of his ridiculous stories, Lord Sulakrama thought to work his charms on me. I slapped him. The man, our host, tried to force me. And when my husband came in, and found me beneath our host, held in his arms, he raged at both of us.

  “He spewed blasphemies at Sulakrama that would have made the hardest pirate blush, and the lord cast us both out. I wept and wept and begged
him to understand. Then he stabbed me with his keris knife.”

  Ratna jerked away from Tanjung and twisted to look into her face. The woman’s voice hadn’t even broken and her eyes were dry. “Your husband stabbed you?”

  She nodded. “Left me to die. I prayed to Chandra, as I felt my strength leaving me. And then I prayed to Rangda. It was the first time I’d really prayed to her with all my heart, the first time I’d even tried to call on her in years.”

  Ratna rubbed her hands over her face. “Rangda Demon Queen saved your life?”

  “I like to think so. I felt myself falling. Later, I woke up, bloody, weak, but alive. Maybe the Queen of the underworld gave me a reprieve, sent me back from her doorstep. Maybe she had work left for me to do.”

  Sweet Chandra. How had she gotten so caught up in all of this? She was Rahu’s daughter, for certain she owed the Lunars better than Ketu had given them. And righting things here should make it that much easier to find her daughter.

  But still. Relying on the witches was one thing. Allowing them to worship the goddess of the underworld, sanctioning such worship, was another.

  But then, Chandra had never helped Ratna, either. She rubbed her face. She just wanted her daughter back.

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED EIGHT

  Malin had not often spoken of his home to Chandi. He’d taught her a bit of his native language, his fighting style. Now she wished she’d paid more attention to the former.

  The Maitian islands weren’t so different, physically, from the Skyfall Isles. But she’d found it hard to communicate. Landorundun’s Maitian was better than Chandi’s, at least.

  “Ben, there’s nothing here,” Chandi said. “There’s nothing to be found. Maybe you dreamed Nyai Loro Kidul. Maybe she’s real, but we’re not going to find her. It’s been half a year.”

  Half a year since she’d seen her husband. Since pride had stopped her from waving goodbye. Should she have jumped from the ship and remained with him? All this searching had brought her nothing. She could shut her eyes and see his face, on the edge of sleep, could remember his voice. It echoed with the accusations of her betrayal.