The Rogue Queen Page 4

“My half brother, Brac.”

“You mentioned you were separated from your family. Are they in danger?”

“I don’t know.”

A frown marks Chitt’s brow. “When we reach Lestari, I’ll do what I can to find them.”

“Why?”

“That’s another question for Mathura.” The ambassador pats my upper back in an overfamiliar gesture. “You had the same grave stare when you were a boy . . . and the same affinity for weapons.” He eyes my sword with a side smile that sends a jolt through me.

I gawk after Chitt as he returns inside. I have seen that smirk a thousand times from someone else . . .

Holy gods, I just met Brac’s father.

3

KALINDA

I wake to find I am alone in the cabin. Out the open doors, our party congregates along the bow. Deven braces against the portside rail, wearing a dazed expression. I meet him on deck, achy but rejuvenated.

“Are you all right?” I ask.

“It’s been an odd day.” When no one else is looking, I stroke his hand. His distracted mood peels away, and he smiles. I want to wrap my arms around him, but propriety must be upheld. Deven points past the bow. “We’re here.”

The afternoon sun lights up a far-off wall. The towering pile of stones shoots up from the sea, many times higher than our vessel’s mast. While squinting, I make out a passageway in the barrier. A low, arched bridge, like a strand of a spider’s web, spans the gap.

“What is it?” I ask.

“A breaker. Indah said it encircles the whole island. It fortifies against intruders and errant waves.” Deven sounds impressed, as am I. This wall in the middle of the sea is remarkable.

A dark line on the northern horizon draws my attention. Admiral Rimba stands on the lookout deck on top of the cabin. I call up to him. “What’s that behind us?”

The admiral swivels around and stares past our stern. The line comes into focus—a tremendous wave advances toward us at an alarming pace. He shouts from above, “Sailors, full ahead! Passengers to the cabin!”

“Good Anu,” Deven breathes.

We grip the rail, and Enki’s Heart races for the island. Seawater mists our faces, and the wind blasts my hair behind me. The crew scrambles to the water cannons. The other members of our party and Ambassador Chitt make their way down the rail from up deck, hand over hand. Deven and I try to let go of the rail and cross the deck into the cabin, but the ship dips and soars over every roller, and the prow splashes up more surf. Despite our increased haste, the tidal wave continues to gain on us.

Natesa gapes at the towering wave. “Where in the skies did it come from?”

Indah pushes her forward. “Everyone inside!”

Deven and I stagger across the deck and into the cabin with them. Out the front window, the protective breaker grows higher and taller. Past the guard bridge, I glimpse the safety of a cove.

A shadow falls over the ship. I look out the open door—and the wall of water crashes into us. The cabin’s structure holds, but waves rush in and knock us down. I slide across the floor, soaked through in an instant.

The water recedes, violent streams of cold that slap and drag at me. Deven crawls to my side, his turban missing. Ashwin lies on his belly, coughing up water but otherwise unharmed. Natesa and Yatin hold each other in a puddle, while Indah and Pons brace themselves in the corner.

At our stern, a ship barrels for us. The three-mast vessel is painted an incongruously cheerful yellow. A dark cloud hangs ominously above the ship, punctuated by lightning. Thunder rumbles, an imminent warning of the vessel’s pursuit.

“Water cannons portside!” shouts Admiral Rimba.

The ship careens alongside us, its size filling the sky and its water cannons aimed to shoot. I wipe water from my eyes and peer up at the vessel’s black flag with its white symbol—a large shark with jagged teeth.

The sea raiders’ emblem.

Our pursuers employ their cannons. Saltwater jets in through the doors of the cabin, blasting one off its hinges. Deven crouches over me and absorbs the spray. The targeted streams of water force two of our cannons into the sea and crush another. Several of the crew are swept off deck into the rough waves. The terrible winds bellow, and the ship creaks and groans.

The raiders lower their biggest cannon at our cabin and blast more water at us. Deven is pushed off me, and he slides to the door. Pons grabs his wrist, and they are both swept out on deck and dragged to the rail. Pons latches onto a crate, stopping them from falling overboard, but Deven’s legs dangle over the edge.

I lurch out of the cabin, onto the open deck. Harnessing my soul-fire, I send a heatwave into the storm. “Enough!”

My flames evaporate the water on my hands, fizzling the drops to steam. A man high up on the opposing deck comes to the rail to see who cast the heatwave. Ambassador Chitt flanks me, his hands also glowing.

“What do you want, Captain Loc?” Chitt calls to the man on the other ship.

“We have no interest in you or the navy, Ambassador.” Captain Loc points at me. “We’ve come for the kindred and prince. Rajah Tarek has offered a reward for their return.”

“Prince Ashwin and Kindred Kalinda are under our protection,” Admiral Rimba answers, calling across the watery divide. Though the sea between our ships has started to calm, tension churns in the thundery sky. “I suggest you go before our fleet arrives.” He points to vessels speeding out of the breaker from the island.

“Give us the prince and kindred, and we’ll leave,” Captain Loc replies.

Behind me, Ashwin is stony, but I read him as well as he does one of his books. I turn to Captain Loc. “The prince and I stay.”

Captain Loc goes on, unruffled. “Kindred, your husband requires your presence.”

I throw a warning heatwave at his ship. The Voider is not my husband. My fire glances along their bow, scorching a line across the hull. Men dive away from the path of my fury. Captain Loc ducks behind the rail and rises again.

An exquisite chill, akin to delight, empowers me. The raiders fear my abilities.

And well they should.

But Captain Loc does not direct his crew to retreat. My impatience surges. Go away.

Flames fly from my hands, high across the water, their centers white and their edges a strange pale green. My heatwave hits the vessel’s mast and burns its flag. Captain Loc summons a pillar of water to extinguish the fire and then raises snakelike streams from the sea and aims them at me.

I stand ready, bolder with Chitt at my side than I would be alone. The navy vessels race closer, moments away. Should the raiders engage us, they will have to engage their entire fleet.

Captain Loc throws his streams of water at the hull. Waves splash the deck, hitting my sandals. “Another day, Kindred.” He signals to his crew, and they maneuver their ship farther out in the open water.

I hobble across the deck. Deven sits away from the rail near Pons, catching his breath. “Those dolts,” I say, helping Deven stand. “Rajah Tarek is dead.”

Deven squeezes water from his tunic and soaked turban. “I never thought anyone could be more dangerous than Tarek, and then I met the demon impersonating him.”

Pons summons a breeze that rushes over us, wicking away the immediate wetness of our clothes. After the wind passes, he says, “The reward for bringing you back must be generous. Captain Loc wouldn’t risk attacking a navy vessel this close to Lestari without incentive.”

Deven and I swap a look. Our decision to meet up with the Lestarians has already proven beneficial. I just hope our meeting with the datu goes well.

The other navy ships arrive and surround us. Admiral Rimba shouts for his crew to retrieve the sailors who were cast overboard. A crewman cleans up the deck, tossing aside debris so the others may more easily work.

Deven groans and leans against me, but his complaint is of exhaustion, not of injury. “I’ll help so we can be underway,” he says. “The sooner we’re on land, the better.”

I hold on to him longer than necessary . . . and then another breath or two after that. He finally pulls back, and I reluctantly return to the cabin to check on the others.

Chitt intercepts me at the broken sliding door. “I’d like a quick word, Kindred.” Since he is blocking my way, I wait for him to go on. “Have your powers always been that greenish hue?”

“They’re usually the color of a star, but I’ve been unwell lately.”

“Perhaps it’s of no concern,” Chitt answers, though his tone implies otherwise. “Each Burner’s powers have a unique color. Mine is a deep currant, and your father’s was a vibrant tangerine. But I have never seen a Burner’s fire any shade of green.”

I had not thought to compare my fire to another’s. Burners are too few for such an opportunity to easily arise. The only other Burner I have met and fought alongside is Brac. I wish he was here so I could ask him if the color of my powers is abnormal.

Ashwin squeezes past Chitt and hooks his arm through mine. “Kalinda should rest, Ambassador.”

“Of course. Thank you for your time, Kindred.” Chitt bows, his expression no less troubled.

Ashwin and I stroll down the deck and rest on an overturned crate. When no sailors are near, he speaks. “The attack was our fault.” His small voice is packed with regret.

“No one was hurt.”

“Thank the gods. Do you think we’ll be safe in Lestari?”

I look to the stone breaker in the distance. “Let’s pray so.”

Ashwin scoots closer to move out of the path of a working sailor. I should put another gap between us, but the prince’s touch tames the chill prowling inside me.

Since the Voider tainted me, I carry his malevolent powers like an invisible brand mark. I told him I am nothing like him. I am a bhuta, a half-god, so I must be good. Whatever sickness he put inside me cannot change my heritage. But something is amiss. My powers are different, and not just their color. I feel . . . less in control.

Leaning into Ashwin, I watch the sea and try not to think about what lies beneath the surface of my skin.

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