The Star-Touched Queen (25 page)

The gardens were a ghost of their former glory. My father had spent years tending these orchards, walking through them with his hands clasped behind his back. Years ago, there had been mirror-lined fountains to catch the sun. The orchard had been so illuminated that each new blossom wore a golden nimbus. There had been fish in inky ponds, shimmering iridescent beneath the water’s surface, lively moons in miniature. There had been thousands of trees heavy with jewel-bright fruit. I knew. I had climbed those trees, plucking fragrant guavas and devouring their rose and saltwater flesh right there.

All of that had changed. Bharata had changed. The air was leeched of all warmth, but that didn’t make it any less dry and dusty in my throat. The trees had been reduced to mere spindles. Someone had strung pennants in them, but they hung limply in the windless air. My throat tightened as I stared at the place that had once been so familiar. If Bharata hadn’t believed in ghosts when I lived beneath its walls, then it certainly believed in them now. This place, this city looked carven and gaunt. When we stood in the garden, Skanda dismissed everyone. Even Gauri, despite how stubborn she was about never letting us out of her sight, caught his mood and left.

“This is where my father once instructed me,” said Skanda, pointing to a familiar row of now desiccated
neem
, sweet-almond and fig trees.

Scolded, more like.
I resisted the urge to laugh. “It is rare that a ruler would spend time in the company of his offspring. No doubt you are quite blessed, Your Majesty. What lessons did he impart?”

“He once told me to remember that the illusion of power is just as great as actual power,” he said slowly.

I stiffened. He knew I was no
sadhvi
.

“You understand my predicament,” said Skanda in a wheedling voice.

Kamala cast me a sidelong gaze and whinnied, pawing at the ground. She didn’t need to say any words of warning. The moment Skanda spoke, my eyes sharpened.

“Tell me what I should understand,” I said.

Skanda let out a long breath. “Times are very different for the realm than what they might have been once upon a time. My father died valiantly in battle. After that, people lost faith. There has been a war raging on the outskirts of Bharata long before I became the ruler of this realm. At one point, we had the upper hand. My father invited the war leaders here for a wedding.”

My hands clenched. “What happened?”

Skanda shrugged. “We don’t know. One minute the girl was there, the next minute she wasn’t. It made the leaders furious.”

“What happened to her?”

Skanda snorted. “Who knows? Who cares? She escaped all this.”

“No one remembered her?”

“I believe she had some horrible horoscope, one way or the other. I cannot remember. But horoscopes have gone out of fashion. No one cares about those things anymore. The stars have lied so much to us.”

I didn’t know whether his words were more comforting or dismal. The Bharata I knew had fixated on the abstract language of comets and star patterns. Listening to Skanda felt like examining an old scar. I saw the wound Bharata had left in me, but it was a relic of something time and magic had sewn together. If Bharata could have changed over so many years into some entirely different beast, then maybe I had too.

“The people have not seen a
sadhu
come through our palace walls in years,” said Skanda. “And I know for a fact that you are no
sadhvi
.”

My head jerked toward him. “Sire, I—”

“No need,” said Skanda. “Didn’t you hear me? I don’t care if you’re a fraud or not. The illusion is enough. I haven’t seen my people this excited in years. I’ll pay you whatever you want, just make sure you put on a good show. In particular, silence my sister. You already met her.”

“What exactly has she done wrong?” I tried to keep the protective edge out of my voice, but Skanda’s gaze turned flinty.

“She wants to volunteer herself on a useless reconnaissance mission to find out what happened to a handful of our soldiers.”

“Were they important?”

“They were elite members of the service. But new ones can be trained. Anything, and anyone, can be replaced,” he said, falling silent. “Even me.”

I regarded Skanda. He wasn’t as dumb as he seemed. He was, even though I hated to admit it, a little perceptive. If only he wasn’t so lazy. Perhaps he really would have made our father’s legacy something noteworthy. But I could sense his weakness. He was scared. He was selfish. And that was a dangerous combination.

“Why don’t you want the Princess of Bharata to go?”

“Illusion,” he said, gesturing with sweaty hands toward the failing orchard around us. “I need to hold on to the illusion of power. If that slips the moment Gauri leaves, then I am finished. They’ll probably throw me out.”

“What exactly do you want me to do?”

“I do not know. You’re the charlatan. Fake something. Some ceremony where you can counsel her otherwise, and then announce it to the realm. It has to be something that all the people can understand and empathize with.”

Kamala snorted, pushing her muzzle into my hand and leaving dark tracts of mud—and something else, which I didn’t want to discover—on my palms. Her anger was a palpable thing.

“You have my word, sire,” I said.

Kamala whinnied, nibbling on my arm, and I swatted her.

“Excellent,” said Skanda. “You can settle up with the royal treasurer at the end. What do you have in mind?”

Behind him, a slight shadow dipped in and out behind a banyan tree. I held back another smile. Gauri. No doubt she’d heard everything. There was no way I would follow Skanda’s plan, admirable though it might have been. His heart wasn’t in the right place. At least when my father made sneaky decisions, they were always for the good of the country. Never just to save face.

“With your permission, sire, I’d like to hold vigil outside the palace temples and allow those members of the royal court to speak with me at will. If you can convince the Princess Gauri to join in one of the sessions, perhaps have another member of the court … a harem wife whom Gauri is close with … to join and stand as witness to our session, I can craft the correct words to announce to the court.”

“Excellent.”

He tugged his hand through his hair and my heart clenched, a brief memory of Amar flashing in my mind. There were so many times in Naraka that I had watched him do something similar. So many times that he had twirled one dark curl around his long fingers. I needed to get back to him. I couldn’t let go of too much time.

“By your leave, Your Majesty, I would like to hold that session today.”

“Today?” repeated Skanda, stunned.

“I believe it would look more natural to your citizens. An immediate announcement revealing the change in the princess’s mind would show some transparency. That perhaps you had not bullied or bribed me into saying such words by holding me within the palace walls for more than a day.”

Skanda nodded approvingly. “You’re quite bright for a charlatan
sadhvi
. How long have you been in this business of deception?”

Oh, if only he knew.

“Years,” I said through a thin smile.

“Consider it done.”

Skanda pointed me to the palace temple, cast a nervous glance at Kamala and stalked off in the direction of one of his yes-man advisers.

“What is it?” I hissed at Kamala. “I thought you were going to talk right then and there and then we would’ve been thrown out.”

Kamala wouldn’t look at me. “It’s the Dharma Raja.”

I froze. “What about him?”

“I can sense him.” The blue veins that once stood out so prominently on her skin had begun to sink beneath pearlescent hair. Even the garnet gaze of her eyes had receded into something bright and black. Thoroughly animal.

“And?”

“He was here, but only for a moment.”

“Where did he go?”

“I couldn’t tell you that, not for all the salt-skin in the world.” Kamala sighed.

“Do you know where he was?”

“That’s the thing I was trying to tell you, maybe-queen!” exclaimed Kamala, pawing at the ground. “He was at the Chakara Forest. You were right.”

I was right. There was a soft glow of warmth in that knowledge, even if knowing that I had just missed him rent through me like a new wound. I had trusted my instinct and it had been right. I could have reveled in her words if they didn’t make me furious.

Kamala sighed. “But there is something else.”

“What?”

“He left something in his stead.”

“In the same place?”

“Yes.”

“What did he leave behind?”

“I don’t know. My own senses do not tell me such things. Though that would be a great help. I wouldn’t have to lie in wait, hiding behind bushes and hoping some unsuspecting stupid person would wander past me. They might even wear such signs on their heads proclaiming, ‘Eat me!’ and such a thing would be—”

“Is the thing moving?”

“Yes, yes, but only in the area. I think it is dormant. It is waiting, I suspect, for something.”

“How do you know?”

“Oh silly Rani, silly
sadhvi
, I have had so much experience with death. I know that it is waiting. It is waiting for the soft thud of freshly culled souls. It is waiting to paint its lips red with blood. It is waiting to crunch bones and wear them like clattering raiment and robes.”

“Does that mean the Dharma Raja will return to the spot?”

“Yes.”

“How long does death usually wait?”

“Eons and blinks.”

I couldn’t abandon Gauri. Not now. Not when I had come so close to seeing her for the first time in weeks. I had to move quickly.

“Tell me the moment the Dharma Raja’s representatives seem to move. Or do anything. Can you do that?”

“I can, I have, I shall, I will,” sang Kamala.

“Good.”

I tugged her reins, about to lead her to the palace temple when I heard a soft jumping sound behind me and felt the pointed edge of a dagger at my neck.

“Stop where you are, imposter.”

I stopped.

Kamala bent her head to me. “Surely I can eat that one.”

“No,” I hissed.

“No? You won’t stop?” said the voice, laughing. Gauri.

“I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to the horse.”

Kamala snorted indignantly.

“I heard you talking to my brother.”

“So what?”

“I know exactly what you plan to do and I won’t allow it.”

This time, I turned around and faced her. Gauri was a full head taller than me. Strange that she used to run to me, wrapping her arms around my waist in a hug. I fought the urge to throw my arms around her. There was murder in her eyes, a calculating gaze no doubt caused by a quick and sudden immersion in court politics. And she had a military background to add to that. Smart girl. The moment I held her gaze, she paused, lips parted for just a moment before she looked away.

Had she recognized me? I wanted her to. I wanted her to see who I really was beneath the saffron robes, torn hair and ash-covered skin. But she shook her head, as if ridding herself of a momentary lapse, and refocused her dagger at my throat.

“You heard what I
said
to your brother. That means nothing in Bharata.”

A smile quirked on Gauri’s face.

“You don’t strike me as a charlatan,” she said.

Her tone, a questioning lilt, slammed me back through memory. In a blink, we were back in the Bharata I remembered, the capitol carpeted with lush trees and heavy with the perfume of wind-fallen fruit. And Gauri was once again the hesitant, soft-voiced eight-year-old who asked what we would be in her next life. Twin stars?
Makaras
with tails long enough to wrap around the world? I swallowed the lump in my throat, tamping down the memory like a dead fire.

“And you don’t strike me as a murderer,” I said, flicking aside the point of her dagger. “I want to help you.”

Gauri looked taken aback. A familiar rosiness spread across her cheeks.

“Why would you do that? What did you really come here for?”

I hadn’t known until now, but I saw it, felt it. I came here for her. Because it didn’t matter whether I had lived in another realm for years that I thought were mere days. It didn’t matter that I had tasted fairy fruit, fallen in love and broken a heart. Some bonds were impervious to all manner of experience. And the truth was that, no matter what happened, we were sisters.

“I came here because I’ve known about the villagers’ concerns for some time. I once lived in Bharata,” I said. “It is my home, and like anyone else I want to see that it will be safe. Loved. Cared for. The citizens prefer you far more than they do the current raja—”

“Careful,
sadhvi
, what you’re saying reeks of treason—”

“People always have their favorites,” I said calmly. I hated myself for even encouraging her to leave this place, to risk her life when I knew that I couldn’t protect her. But there were worse things that could happen to her if she stayed. She would be a prisoner. She would never get the chance to make her own choice. And if there was anything I could give her, some parting present for never being there when she grew up … it was that. A choice.

“What I’m suggesting would help you as much as it would help him. You could go and reclaim those lost soldiers. Boost morale. Do you really think you can do it?”

Gauri nodded, her eyes shining. “I know I can.”

Tears burned behind my eyes.
Come back safe
.

“And will you go alone?”

Gauri nodded again. “It is safer that way, not to risk anyone’s lives. And I know where they’re being kept. I’ve received word.”

She fell silent, her gaze distant and eyes fixed on a shaded area sequestered in a copse of once-bright lime trees. I knew that place … it was a rendezvous for lovers.

“The person you received word from,” I said after a while. “You love one of them, don’t you?”

Gauri started, a protest on the tip of her lips.

“I…,” she began before weakly trailing off. She quickly regained composure and her eyes narrowed. “That’s none of your concern.”