The True Queen

by Zen Cho

  Yet she did not throw Muna and Sakti off, as Muna had feared she might. They were charged with tedious tasks by way of penance—Muna was set to cleaning and Sakti to repairing the magic wards around the witch’s house and orchard. But there was no suggestion that they should leave.

  Two days passed; Muna and Sakti quarrelled seven times about whether they should tell Mak Genggang what they had learnt at the English king’s house. The blemish at Sakti’s navel had not improved, and she could not really believe any longer that it was Mak Genggang who was to blame for it. But Sakti would not own to being wrong, and Muna had yet to wear her down when Mak Genggang summoned them for an audience.

  “I have received a messenger from the English,” she told them. For once Mak Genggang’s age, which one forgot in the full glare of her personality, was evident in her bearing. She looked tired, even frail. “He came to tell me that the Resident of Malacca—the English raja—caught women trespassing in his house two days ago. He has reason to believe they belong to my household and has demanded that I deliver them up. The intruders are thieves, or worse, says Tuan Farquhar, and they must be punished.”

  Muna and Sakti had been dreading another scolding, but this was a calamity neither had foreseen. They looked at each other in horror.

  “But why does he want us, mak cik?” stammered Muna.

  “Oh, it is not you they want,” said Mak Genggang. “You are only a pretext to seize control of Janda Baik. Tuan Farquhar knows I will not willingly give up any person under my protection, and when I refuse, well! He will not fail to make the most of it.”

  Muna was cold, though it was the middle of the afternoon, when the earth had been baked for hours in the relentless sunshine and the heat reached its zenith. Mak Genggang had every reason to surrender her and Sakti to the English. But . . . when I refuse, the witch had said. Surely Mak Genggang would not betray them.

  “What does Tuan Farquhar want with Janda Baik?” said Sakti, baffled. “He has a great house, larger than our Sultan’s palace, and reigns over a city many times the size of the island.”

  “They have need of a port for trade, and a base for their war against the French. Malacca is all very well, but the English seized it from the Dutch, and the Dutch are likely to want it back,” said Mak Genggang. “What is more, Malacca does not have our magic.”

  “What did you say to the messenger, mak cik?” Muna said, in a voice she strove to keep even. She had no wish to insult the witch with her fear, but she could not help feeling nervous till Mak Genggang said:

  “I sent him away, of course—impudent fellow! And I know what they will do now. Tuan Farquhar will say I am recalcitrant—we have no reason to defy him, unless you are spies and we intend an invasion of Malacca. He will say it is his clear duty to strike first. We will fight—he will pay a bitter price for victory—but we cannot hold out against the British forces; they are equal to the Dutch in sanguinariness, and they’re superior in greed. The end of it will be that we shall be overrun!”

  “No!” exclaimed Muna involuntarily. She thought of soldiers spilling onto the white shores of the island, savage men swarming the villages . . . “Oh, Mak Genggang, what can we do?”

  “You might have refrained from going to the English king’s house and supplying him with an excuse for interference,” said Mak Genggang drily. “But there! That is in the past—and all the magics for turning back time are best avoided, for they are liable to make worse muddles than they are designed to solve.”

  Sakti shifted restlessly, looking both guilty and irritated.

  “We had no notion a brief call would cause such trouble,” she said. “If we had known, of course . . . ! But we only wished to break our curse. It is not as though we took anything that would be missed. A formula may be cast any number of times.”

  Her manner was scarcely calculated to propitiate the witch, at a time when Mak Genggang had every reason to be vexed with them. But Mak Genggang only nodded, unsurprised. “It was for the curse you went, was it? I thought that was the case. What was this spell you cast, then?”

  “It was an English spell,” said Sakti. “But it is not as though we stole it!”

  The consequences of their actions had shocked Sakti out of her obstinacy. After all her resistance to confiding in Mak Genggang, it was she who told the witch what they had discovered at the English king’s house, though she omitted to mention her mysterious affliction.

  When she told Mak Genggang the name the spell had given them, a faraway look came into the witch’s eyes.

  “‘Midsomer,’ did you say?” said Mak Genggang.

  Muna looked hopefully at her. “Do you know this ‘Midsomer,’ mak cik? Is it an English name?”

  “I believe it is.” Mak Genggang frowned, tapping her knee. “I may have heard it before, but I cannot recollect . . . Midsomer, Midsomer!” Her tongue stumbled over the unfamiliar syllables. “These English names are impossible to keep in one’s head.”

  She was vexed at her own forgetfulness. “It will come to me in time. I could ask the Sorceress Royal—but we shall already be at a disadvantage, for we must ask her to intervene with Tuan Farquhar on our behalf. I dislike begging for favours, but I do not see what else we can do.”

  Muna glanced at Sakti, but it seemed Sakti’s ignorance on this point was as complete as her own. “Who is the Sorceress Royal?”

  “It is what the English magicians call their chief—a witch of prodigious talent,” said Mak Genggang. “She is notorious in her country, for she has established a school which educates females in their thaumaturgy, which is accounted a great scandal. Still, she wields considerable influence among the English and she is indebted to me, for I was able to do her a service or two before she attained her current position.”

  “A school for witches,” echoed Muna. She sat upright, her eyes wide, as the seed of a notion began to sprout in her mind.

  “But an Englishwoman will not help us against her countrymen, will she?” said Sakti. “Will not she take Tuan Farquhar’s part against us?”

  “Oh, we need have little fear of that!” said Mak Genggang. “If we were speaking of the young man who was Sorcerer Royal before, I might hesitate, indeed. Zacharias Wythe is burdened with a conscience—a fine thing to have, but dangerous in excess. But Prunella would never dream of allowing conscience to prevent her from helping her friends.”

  Still, she sighed. “Mind you, it sits ill with me to be beholden to any European. Prunella is a good warmhearted girl, but in these times I should rather have her in my debt than give her any hold over us. But it cannot be helped. When elephants battle, the mousedeer dies in the middle. It is this, or be trampled!”

  She would have said more, but Muna broke in, saying, “Mak cik, may anyone attend the Sorceress Royal’s school? That is to say, will she receive any female who desires to learn magic?”

  Mak Genggang looked surprised. “I believe so. She wishes to open the practice of magic to persons of all kinds. The English as a whole are jealous of their magic; they hoard it as a miser hoards his gold.”

  “Then,” said Muna, “why do not you send us there?”

  The other two stared. Muna’s heart was racing at her daring, but she must keep speaking before she lost her nerve, or was interrupted.

  “Either we must give the English what they demand, or we must quarrel with them,” she said. “We cannot afford to quarrel with them, so we must concede—or appear to. If you send us to the Sorceress Royal, that would take us out of Tuan Farquhar’s reach. He could not accuse you of defying him, for after all you will only have done what he required. The English asked for us, therefore you sent us to England. Tuan Farquhar could not in decency complain of your preferring to entrust us to his countrywoman.

  “It will be like rowing while going downriver,” she added, “for it will put us in the way of making amends for our conduct. Perhaps we cannot equal the for
eigners’ ships and cannons, but in magic Janda Baik need not consider itself the inferior of any mortal kingdom. I daresay my sister will learn English magic quickly, and that will teach her its weaknesses too, so we may help defend Janda Baik against their encroachment.”

  Mak Genggang regarded Muna for a long moment, her expression inscrutable. Muna pressed her damp palms against her sarong, trying to look like someone capable of spying on the English.

  “It is an interesting notion!” said the witch finally. “But that is not all you hope to do, surely. You wish to break the curse. Do you believe this ‘Midsomer’ is to be found in England?”

  Muna flushed under Mak Genggang’s penetrating gaze. “You said Midsomer was an English name, mak cik.”

  “What will you do if you find him?”

  Muna glanced at Sakti. Sakti was looking at her in wonder, as amazed as if Muna had suddenly revealed an ability to fly. Encouraged, Muna turned back to the witch.

  “My sister was trained by no less a witch than Mak Genggang,” she said. “We shall think of something.”

  “Hmph!” said Mak Genggang: but she was pleased. “It is not a bad notion. It will vex Tuan Farquhar exceedingly. And to send the Sorceress Royal a scholar will have less of an appearance of petitioning her for a favour. Prunella has pressed me for some time to explain Malay magics to her—she has a great interest in our enchantery.

  “There is little enough good that can be said of you,” she said to Sakti, “but you do have some understanding of our magics! What do you say to your sister’s suggestion? You have not shown any extraordinary devotion to your studies so far. But perhaps it is only my tutelage to which you object?”

  Muna was in terror lest Sakti should be too honest—a failure of tact could scuttle the proposal. But Sakti could be diplomatic when it suited her.

  “I should like to go to England, if you think it wise, mak cik,” she said. “I would be proud to tell the English of your magic! But how would we travel there? Isn’t it very far away?”

  But to Mak Genggang, the distance between countries was nothing. She dismissed it with a wave of her hand.

  “You would need a year at least if you were obliged to travel by conventional means,” she said. “But we are not subject to such limitations. It is only a short path through the Unseen Realm. With your youth, you will not need more than a day to traverse it.”

  A shiver of foreboding ran up Muna’s spine. “The Unseen Realm? You don’t mean we would have to travel through the world of the spirits, mak cik?”

  “Oh yes. Nothing easier in the world!” said Mak Genggang. “I shall lay the path for you. There is no reason you should run into any trouble, provided you are sensible.”

  “It sounds perfectly straightforward,” said Sakti, who had never been sensible in her life. “When do we leave?”

  4

  The next day

  The forests of Janda Baik

  MUNA

  HAVING DECIDED TO adopt Muna’s proposal, Mak Genggang lost no time. The very day after the witch had received Tuan Farquhar’s messenger, Muna and Sakti set off for England.

  I should have known what would come of my having ideas! thought Muna, as she picked her way across the jungle floor, keeping an anxious eye on her sister’s back. Now they were banished from Janda Baik, perhaps for good for all Muna knew—for Mak Genggang had not said when they might return.

  But they went for Sakti, Muna reminded herself. It was selfish to repine, when Sakti still suffered from her injury—that unnatural absence, carved into her flesh. There had been no time to look at it again this morning.

  Muna opened her mouth, but before she could ask to see the blemish, Sakti turned her head. Her eyes were alight.

  “I have been thinking,” she said, “of what it would be like to meet a weretiger!”

  Muna glanced around nervously, though she had neither seen nor heard signs of any beast larger than a moth since they had entered the jungle. “There is no risk of that, is there?”

  “Well, you know they say there are villages of the creatures deep in the jungle,” said Sakti cheerfully. “Cities, indeed, larger than Malacca! But tigers are unsociable animals; perhaps they have concealed themselves with magic. Still, I am surprised we have not seen a single spirit yet. The hantu tetek, perhaps, flying down to seize us and smother us in her bosom—”

  “Those are just a story to frighten children with.”

  “Or the hantu langut,” said Sakti, “that has a dog’s head and a man’s body, and stalks the jungle with his face turned upwards. They say even to look upon him once brings death!

  “I expect you would rather meet a bunian,” she added, in a tone of faint condescension. “I would not mind it, but there is not much to distinguish them from mortals, save their being invisible.”

  Muna glared at Sakti. “I would rather meet none of those creatures—” But Muna swallowed her words, recollecting that they were in the jungle, treading earth that belonged more to spirits than mankind.

  “I wish you would not speak so recklessly!” she added in a whisper. “What if you should draw the fine ones’ attention? Recall that we are on the boundary of the Unseen Realm!”

  “Oh, we have passed that,” said Sakti nonchalantly. “We are in the Hidden World now! Cannot you smell it? The air is full of magic!” She took an appreciative breath of air.

  Muna looked around again, but she saw nothing to mark their passage from the known world to the unknown. The same jungle surrounded them, populated by familiar trees. The only noise was the incessant background ringing of cicadas’ voices, interrupted by the occasional birdcall.

  She felt a mix of relief and disappointment. She had no desire to encounter a settlement of weretigers or any other spirits, so far from Mak Genggang’s civilising influence, but it was somewhat of a comedown to find the Unseen World so little different from the mortal realm.

  “I have never smelt magic before,” said Muna, “so I suppose there is no reason why I should have started now.”

  “It is wonderfully invigorating,” Sakti assured her. “No wonder the witch is so hale despite her great age, if she comes here often!”

  Sakti’s eyes did seem brighter. Since Sakti had disclosed her complaint, it had seemed to Muna in her anxiety that Sakti was fading visibly, her ill health evident in her pallor and thin limbs. Now, however, Sakti’s face looked round and full; a healthy colour tinted her cheeks. Muna recollected that she had meant to ask after Sakti’s injury.

  “What of your wound, adik?” she said. “I have not looked at it yet today.”

  Sakti raised her eyes to the canopy, but she began to unknot her sarong. “There will hardly be anything new to see,” she said, “only more nothing—oh!”

  “What is it?” said Muna, but then she saw what had made Sakti cry out.

  The unnatural absence was restored. In its place was Sakti’s flesh, whole and unblemished.

  “I am cured!” said Sakti, delighted.

  It was no illusion—when Muna reached out, she touched Sakti’s warm, living flesh, as solid as Muna’s own. Muna had not realised till then what a burden of anxiety she had been carrying. Relief washed over her; tears sprang to her eyes.

  “But this is wonderful,” she cried, embracing her sister. “Alhamdulillah!”

  “I told you I needed only to escape that woman’s influence to be restored.”

  Muna lowered her arms, her joy abruptly dampened. “You cannot still think Mak Genggang put the curse on us? After all we learnt at the King’s house? What about ‘Midsomer’?”

  Sakti tossed her head, looking mulish. “Perhaps the English magician is her accomplice. Indeed, now I think of it, nothing is likelier. She said the name sounded familiar, and even now we are being sent to her ally in England . . .”

  “You know you do not believe that,” said Muna crossly. “We are no farther
from Mak Genggang’s influence than we were when we went to Malacca, and your blemish did not disappear there.” She had insisted on checking this upon their arrival in Malacca. “It is perfectly evident it is not a matter of distance from Mak Genggang.”

  “So you say,” said Sakti, “but we are farther from her influence than we can ever have been since she found us. You forget that we are in the Unseen Realm now!”

  A thought struck Muna. “Could you take us back to Janda Baik without getting lost?”

  At Muna’s insistence they retraced their steps through the trees, till Sakti said:

  “This is Janda Baik again. But why did you wish to return? We shall be late arriving in England.”

  Muna ignored this; her suspicion had possessed her. “Your stomach, adik—let us see it!”

  Sakti pressed a hand to her person with exaggerated patience, humouring Muna, but her expression altered at the touch. She untied her sarong slowly, revealing a hole at her navel. It was larger now, spreading up her torso, as though she were fading away from the centre.

  Muna took a deep breath, pushing back her horror. She must be calm for Sakti’s sake. “Let us go back, adik.”

  They did not speak again until they had recrossed the border between the Seen and Unseen Worlds. This time Muna knew when they had passed over into the realm of the spirits, for Sakti let out a sigh of relief.

  “Are you restored?” said Muna.

  Sakti nodded, patting the knot of her sarong.

  “Whole again,” she said, with a crooked smile, not in the least convincing.

  They walked until the witch’s path came into view, lighting the way through the Unseen Realm to England.

  “I don’t believe it is Mak Genggang’s influence that has had this effect,” said Muna finally. “It is being in the Unseen World that has cured you. Janda Baik—does not suit you.”

  Sakti nodded. She was more subdued than usual, shaken by what was happening to her. “I felt better directly once I breathed in this air. It must be the magic of the Unseen.”