The Warrior Queen(14)

For a time, I envisioned another marital union for myself. Kalinda was the obvious selection as my kindred, but her heart led her elsewhere. The hurt of her refusal clung on for a time but has since disintegrated. Kali sacrificed much to return me to my palace and throne. I see how our people look at her. Those who saw her fight for their freedoms respect her more, undeterred by her bhuta heritage. Many more do not appreciate her labors and view her only as a Burner. Their incoming kindred, who had no associations with the rebels, will more easily garner their esteem. Gaining my own affection for my first wife is not a priority. Rajahs do not have the same romantic independence as others. Our hearts must belong to our empires.

“Your Majesty?” Pons asks from the lower roof. I drop into the aviary. The Galer enters, rousing the doves. He does not remark about where I am. During our first days together, I made him promise not to tell anyone about my rooftop escapades. “Your meeting begins soon.”

“I’m coming.” I replace the ink and quill in the box and then pick up the parchment with the unfinished story.

“Would you like me to send that correspondence, sir?”

“This? No. This is nothing.” I crush the parchment into a ball. The bottom of the wooden box is littered with crumpled papers. I toss my latest attempt in with the others and close the lid.

4

KALINDA

Wind and rain beat against my back and lash at my hair. I stand on the lakeshore, icebergs bobbing across the shattered surface.

“Kali!” Deven calls from within the hurling water, near the center of the lake. He dips under a crashing wave and up again.

I run up to my shins into the freezing waters. Ice bites into my skin. Rain distorts my vision. He disappears behind a wave. I search frantically. He reappears, swimming against currents and crosswinds.

Our gazes connect across the perilous divide, both rife with terror. The storm whips up massive crosscurrents. A maelstrom spins Deven around its outer radius.

He cannot break free.

I dive in and swim out. My right hand is whole again. I cannot stop to think about how that is possible. I funnel all my strength into reaching him. He twirls closer to the whirlpool.

We reach for each other. Our fingertips touch—

A current slices between us.

Deven careens into the vortex and goes under. I scrutinize the choppy waves. When he does not resurface, I inhale and dive.

Shadows writhe below, hooks grasping and dragging him. I swim farther and catch his fingers. The hooks pull harder, wrenching him from my clasp. The darkness arrests him and he sinks from view. I swim into the directionless pit.

“Come to me.” The distinctly female voice vibrates through my skull. “Come to me or your beloved is mine.” Something ugly in her voice twists “beloved.”

The same hooks that stole Deven reach for me. Icy spikes impale my thighs. Not hooks—claws. I try to scream. My mouth fills with water that tastes of lead. The phantom cackles. I grasp for something solid, but the claws submerge me deeper into the pit.

Someone jostles my shoulder. I jerk awake.