7
KALINDA
I limp down the corridor for the open archway that leads to the garden. A breeze flows inside, the tail end of stronger drafts summoned by a Galer. I quicken my step, but my bad leg gives out, forcing me to brace against the doorway.
Gritting my teeth, I hustle outside under the palm trees. Whooshing air momentarily steals my breath. The wing flyer is airborne. Deven, Natesa, and Yatin ride with Rohan. I limp for the garden clearing, calling for Deven. The loud winds thrash the palm fronds and drown out my shouts. The wing flyer streaks over the cove and quickly shrinks into the sky.
I plunk down on a stone bench, rubbing my sore knee. After Deven left Ashwin’s chamber, everything moved so fast. Ashwin dispatched a carrier dove with a letter to Hastin, and then we went to the datu. Bulan agreed with our endeavor to ally with the rebels and ordered Indah and Pons to fly us to meet Hastin. Everyone launched into a flurry of preparations for our departure. I returned to my empty bedchamber to collect my belongings when, from the terrace, I saw Deven and my friends leaving. I squeeze my eyes shut on gathering tears. Gods know when we will meet again.
“Kindred?”
I stifle a groan. Of all the people to see me upset . . .
Princess Gemi sits beside me. “I realize I haven’t made a good first impression,” she says, “but nothing happened between Deven and me.”
“I didn’t assume otherwise.” My chilliness should be off-putting, yet the princess loiters.
“He watches you, you know. My father used to look at my mother the same way Deven looks at you.” Princess Gemi hugs one knee to her chest, the ease of her trousers allowing the movement while retaining modesty. “The general’s party is supposed to meet with the navy in four days where the River Ninsar connects with the River Nammu. I’d like to go with the sailors, but the admiral won’t let me on board without the prince’s permission. He’s a taskmaster about protocol. Can you help a fellow sister warrior?”
Her sweet talk about sister warriors does not motivate me, but Admiral Rimba requiring her to receive authorization from Ashwin is ridiculous. Datu Bulan enlists female Virtue Guards, and women serve in his navy. Clearly he approves. Moreover, Princess Gemi is a grown woman and the next ruler of the Southern Isles. Fighting for her homeland should be her choice.
“Tell Admiral Rimba I’ve requested your attendance. And let him know my party will also meet with the navy where the rivers connect.”
She scrunches her lips to the side. “Will the prince honor your decision?”
I can think of no reason why Ashwin would protest bringing another bhuta into our ranks. We are willing to accept the rebels’ assistance, so we can certainly accept hers. “If you’d like to ask him, he’s inside. But you should hurry. The fleet looks ready to disembark.”
Princess Gemi’s attention zips to the docks. The sailors have finished loading the vessels and they file aboard. She hops up. “No need. I’ll tell the admiral. We’ll meet again in four days!” She takes off downhill with a speed and ease that wring a drop of envy out of me.
Trousers on a woman. Why didn’t I think of that?
I step out from behind the dressing screen wearing plain dark clothes that I found in the cabinet. The fitted trousers will take some adapting to, but I already prefer their convenience over the lengthy process of pleating, pinning, and tucking a sari over a blouse and petticoat. I smile to myself as I pack another set of trousers and tunic to bring to Samiya.
“What’s so amusing?” Mathura asks, entering my chamber.
“I was imagining Priestess Mita’s expression when she sees me in trousers.”
Mathura sizes me up. “A skirt is more proper for a rani, but they’re flattering on you.”
I glimpse my profile in the mirror glass. The trousers define my lower body and hips. Priestess Mita will say my attire is scandalous, but my wardrobe is the least of the changes that have come over me since we last saw each other.
“You just missed Deven,” Mathura notes.
“I know.” I stuff the last of my belongings into my pack, pushing hard to fit the extra clothes. Between the colder mountain weather and the chill inside me, it will be a battle to stay warm.
Mathura sits on the end of the bed. “Natesa told me you’ve grown close to Prince Ashwin.” Before I can guess what she is insinuating, she finishes. “That’s for the best. You’re the kindred of the Tarachand Empire, and a good one at that.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “What do you want, Mathura?”
“Deven will never interfere with your duties. He’ll hold on to the dream of you unless you tell him otherwise.”
“I love your son,” I say, forcing an even tone.
“Do you love him enough to step away from your throne? Few women have the influence you hold. Natesa says the prince respects you—he says you’re equals. Do you understand how rare that is? That’s a gift from the gods. You’d be a fool to squander it.”
She forgets I am not only the kindred; I am a Burner. My people will never accept me as I am. Even the ranis held captive in the palace were raised to despise my kind. I hid what I am from them, and I doubt I will regain their trust once they learn my true heritage. “When the time is right, I will step aside.”
Mathura clucks her tongue. “My son is a good man, but that’s folly, Kalinda. You’re a rani. You’ll always be beyond his reach.”
Gods alive, I hope Deven does not share her opinion.
Maybe he does. Maybe that’s why he left without saying good-bye, why he hasn’t asked me to relinquish my throne. Maybe he’s afraid I won’t walk away.
More doubts worm into my mind. I sided with Ashwin about the rebels. But Deven understands loyalty and duty better than anyone else. He will think back on our disagreement and realize that I supported Ashwin for the sake of the empire. I just hope Deven forgives me for the hurt my choice is causing him.
Mathura adjusts her sari pleats. “I’m leaving for Janardan with Ambassador Chitt. I trust when I see you next this will be resolved.”
“It will be.” By then the war will be over, and Ashwin will have secured his throne and palace. I will be free of my obligations. Free to openly love Deven. And free to tell Mathura to quit meddling.
I will savor that day.
A knock comes at the door, and Indah lets herself in. She is followed by a balding man in a long indigo robe.
“Healer Mego has come for Kalinda,” says Indah. “We’ll leave you two alone.”
Mathura rises, stately in her grace. “Think on my words, Kalinda.” She bows to emphasize my standing as kindred and sweeps out of the chamber after Indah.
Healer Mego sets his basket down on the table, rolls up his sleeves, and examines me with pale-gray eyes. “Indah told me you were corrupted by a demon.”
I grapple with his verbiage. “Corrupted” sounds as though I have been irrevocably wrecked. “We don’t have long before I have to leave. Can you heal me?”
“All in due time.” He unpacks his basket and lifts his hands, palms facing me. “I need you to burn me.”
“B-burn you?”
“Don’t fret, child. Do as I say.” Healer Mego presses our hands together, our palms and fingers touching. His old hands are marginally bigger than mine and smooth as the inside of a coconut. His arms are covered in more hair than his head. “Go on.”
My fingers glow white-yellow with soul-fire. His flesh must be blistering, yet he does not wince or draw back. He fixates on my fingertips. As I push my powers into them, my fire darkens to greenish yellow, then a sickly jade, and then . . . sapphire sparks fly out.
I douse my powers and shrink away from the vanishing blue fire. The healer lowers his unburned hands.
“How . . . how did you do that?” I ask.
“Years of practice.” Healer Mego unrolls his sleeves, his gaze resisting mine. “I’m sorry, Kindred. The Voider’s toxins are beyond healing. Only he can remove his poison from you.”
“What?” My hope to extract the cold-fire within me wastes away. “But what if he doesn’t?”
“Then I’m afraid his toxic cold will smother your soul-fire until it’s gone.”
“I’ll die?” No mortal can live without soul-fire. It is our essence.
“Your mortal half is already dying.” At my expression of horror, he adds, “You can try Razing, but I do not recommend you do so. The poisons would be quelled for a short while, but they would return twofold.”
My belly flips and dives. I have razed once before. An Aquifier cut me several times to bleed out a poison that hid my abilities. I will not relive that excruciating ritual for a temporary reprieve. “Can you do anything?” I plead.
“No,” he replies, his tone gentle. “I’m sorry.”
I sink onto the chair, knocking my pack to the floor. The temptation to lie down and let the cold consume me nearly pushes me to tears. The healer repacks his basket. Why did he even come if he cannot help me? I want to tell him to go away, but I withhold my bitterness. Lashing out at him would be wrong, and I cannot abide the thought of Udug winning in any small way. He will not compel me to cry or give into my endless shivers. He would have me believe I cannot survive. But we have the Lestarian Navy on our side, and soon the rebels will stand with us. Both are mercies from the gods.
I harvest a kernel of courage and push out my voice. “How long do I have until . . . ?”
“The full effect of the poisons takes a moon to manifest.”
“Udug poisoned me a fortnight ago.” I have about that much time left to find a remedy the healer is unaware of or persuade Udug to cure me. Any chance is better than the healer’s predicted outcome. “Are you certain no one can ward off the Voider’s powers?” I ask, thinking of Ashwin. “What if someone’s soul-fire can lessen the cold within me?”
“I would caution against relying on another’s soul-fire to supplement your own. Such practices are unpredictable and will worsen your side effects.” My fear returns, as does his kindly voice. “If you stay in Lestari, I will make your final hours comfortable.”
I scoop up my bag. “I must go.”
“Kindred, I pray you’ll reconsider. The damage the Voider’s powers are wreaking—”
“Is less than what he plans to do the world.” I pause at the door. “Thank you. I trust you’ll keep this between us.” I wait for the healer to grasp my expectation and then go.
Ashwin rushes down the corridor, dressed in his travel clothes. “There you are. We’re ready to depart.” He slows to a halt, his eyes growing. “What are you wearing?”
“Trousers. Mathura said they flatter me.”
His color reddens. “I—she—” He fumbles for words that do not come.
Healer Mego exits my chamber and leaves in the opposite direction.
“Who’s that?” Ashwin asks.
“A healer Indah sent to see me. Should we go?”
“Wait.” Ashwin holds me in place. “What did he say?”
I am dying, not dead. Right now the difference, thank Anu, is tremendous. I muster a wobbly half smile. “I’ll be fine.”
“Thank the skies.” Ashwin’s arms come around me. “You’re my strength, Kalinda. I cannot do this without you.” I should move away, but his nearness drizzles over me like warmed honey.
Healer Mego must be incorrect. Ashwin’s touch serves as an antidote to the Voider’s poison. Embracing his nearness for the good of my health cannot be harmful or I would feel something besides this blissful absence of cold.
He releases me, and the hoarfrost inside me shakes loose again. My body’s reaction makes up my mind. I cannot do this without him either. Ashwin will be my protection against the Voider’s poison in the days to come.
Outside the main palace entrance, a wing flyer fills the crushed shell courtyard. Ashwin and I join Pons and Indah, who secure our packs to the passenger platform with rope. Datu Bulan speaks to a palace guard off to the side. In the distance, the last navy vessel disappears through the breaker passageway, out to sea.
“I didn’t know the datu kept wing flyers,” I say.
“He traded the Paljorians for them a few years back,” Pons replies.
“Prince Ashwin,” asks Bulan, striding over, “have you seen my daughter? Gemi was supposed to meet us here.”
“She’s gone with Admiral Rimba,” I answer. “Gemi volunteered to enlist, and I accepted.”
The datu’s mouth drops open, and his color rises.
Ashwin mutters a curse and scrubs at his forehead. “Kalinda, you didn’t.”
“Gemi said the admiral wouldn’t allow her to go without our authorization.” I lob my gaze back and forth between them, uncertain why they are angry. “I saw no sense in turning down a capable Trembler.”
Datu Bulan blusters out a string of indecipherable syllables and then shouts at his guard. “Signal the bridge! Tell them to bring back my daughter!”
“They’re gone, sir,” replies the guard. “The navy has passed through the breaker.”
“Then send a boat after her!”
“Princess Gemi said she wanted to go,” I explain, trying to pacify him.
The datu marches up to me, his white robes stark against ruddy cheeks. “The admiral was under orders to leave my daughter here. Prince Ashwin and I determined Gemi wouldn’t go to the war front. The prince suggested we exclude her, a bhuta ruler. All command was to fall to her should you fail. Now the demon rajah could wipe out my people’s future!”
“My apologies,” Ashwin says. “The kindred was unaware of our agreement.”
“Gemi didn’t tell me either,” I add. “I’m sorry.”
Bulan jabs his finger at my nose. “If anything happens to her, I will find you.” He swings around in a cloud of white and trudges off.
Indah calls out from the wing flyer, “Gemi will be fine. Bulan still thinks of her as his little girl, but I wouldn’t engage her in battle.”
Ashwin speaks under his breath. “That may be so, Kalinda, but you should have discussed this with me first. We should make these decisions together.”
“You didn’t tell me to leave Gemi behind,” I whisper in return.
“I suggested she stay to appease Bulan. Did you not wonder why he sent Indah to Iresh to participate in the trial tournament instead of Gemi? He values his daughter above all else. Ensuring her protection was my best leverage. Even with that, our trade agreement was too generous.” Ashwin is irritated with me, but also with himself for negotiating poorly.
“Excluding Gemi from battle wasn’t our choice to make,” I say.
Ashwin rubs at his headache. “In this case, it was.”
I cut off my next retort. Naturally, the datu wants to shelter his daughter, but had Gemi been a man, I have no doubt she would have been sent off to war. Had Gemi been a man, who would Ashwin have suggested we leave behind? Another woman? Would he have excluded me from battle?
“What’s done is done,” he says. “From now on, we consult each other about everything.”
“Fine.” I revolve away and hastily tie my hair back for the flight.
He climbs onto the wing flyer with Indah and Pons. I ride beside Ashwin, careful not to touch him or his healing warmth. After all I have done to secure and retain my throne, I deserve his trust to make decisions by myself.
Pons’s winds elevate us. Indah releases a squeal of distress, her grip a stranglehold on the navigation bar. She’s afraid of flying? Come to think of it, I have never ridden on a wing flyer with her.
A hearty gust propels us over the palatial city. Indah buries her face against Pons’s back, hiding from the lofty view. I drink in the sight of the turquoise cove and ivory beaches. Lestari truly is a haven. I wish I had relaxed and enjoyed our reprieve in paradise. Our stay was too short and fraught with strife, but Princess Gemi’s willingness to dive into battle boosts my confidence that we—the Southern Isles, Tarachand Empire, and rebels—can unite to defeat the foe that threatens us.