The Rogue Queen (The Hundredth Queen Series Book 3) Page 2

  19KALINDA I stare bleary-eyed at the smoking rubble. Snowflakes drift down upon the smoldering piles of stone and melt to steam. The fire flattened the structure in the night, dancing like cackling demons around a pyre. This charred wreckage is all that remains of the Samiya temple. A low, whitewashed sky has long since lightened to the bleakest gray, casting an abysmal glare over the scene. The hundred or so temple wards huddle as one in the crisp cold. In their rush to escape the fire, few sisters and wards brought cloaks. Flakes of ash entwine with the snowflakes and tarnish the sisters’ humble blue robes. Frightened and saddened tears clean trails down the wards’ sooty faces. The older girls comfort the younger ones, and the sisters comfort the older girls. The wards are too distraught to do little more than steal astonished glances at the men, and the sisters do not stop them. In the wake of this devastation, they do not fear the loss of innocence. I am the enemy they dread. Pries

  20DEVEN Our horse team stumbles up another dune, spraying sand in my eyes. We ascend the slippery rise halfway, and then the catapult mires in the sand and jerks to a halt. From the time we set out this morning, we have intermittently charged across the hot sand and spun our wheels. Like the gods, the desert is no respecter of man. I urge the horse team up the dune while Yatin and Natesa push the catapult from behind. Our sleepless night slows our ascent, but we trudge onward. “Come on, come on.” My half plea, half prayer encourages the horses to conquer the sand dune. Overlooking the landscape, I squint at the sunburnt dunes rolling into the distance. Our troops trek up and down them like organized lines of red ants. I collect my breath and guide our horses and wagon over the ridge to descend the other side. Sweat trickles into my eyes. I swipe the stream away with my arm, also slick from perspiration, and smear grit across my brow. Soldiers trudge alongside us, their headscarves shie

  21KALINDA The airship’s hull provides ample room for all the sisters and wards. Ashwin, Indah, and Pons stay on deck while I help the little ones descend the ladder to below. Straw carpets the floor, and several yaks penned in the corner account for the stench of manure. I overhear a crewman say the airship was en route to deliver the herd to the clan in the arctic tundra but switched course when they received Tinley’s urgent message about the fire. We rest on bales of grass and escape the freezing temperature huddled beneath wool blankets the crew passes out. I try to repress my shivering, but the blanket merely insulates my cold. The wards, however, are resilient. One of them begins a game of Fly-Fly Crane, and soon a group of them are darting between the bales with their arms spread like wings. The sisters let them play, the semblance of normality welcome. After some time, Priestess Mita wanders down the ladder, each of her steps more unenthusiastic than the last. Even after the Pal

  22DEVEN Soon after the wagon stops for the night, Manas returns. “Get out, Deven. The rajah has asked for you.” I am hardly surprised. Opal dissatisfied Udug with her lack of knowledge about Vanhi. Who better to inquire of the palace and rebels than the former captain of the guard? Opal starts to get out too, but Manas throws out his arm. “Stay here, filth. The rajah is finished suffering your repulsive presence.” “Yet he surrounds himself with you,” I say, climbing out of the wagon. Manas smacks the back of my head. I stumble forward to my knees, my hands still tethered behind me. As I rise, the scene beyond camp emerges. The Turquoise Palace shines upon the hill, and Vanhi stretches out below it. To those who love Vanhi, it is known as the City of Gems, a sparkling oasis for all. But the mines beneath the palace that once harvested rich veins of turquoise were boarded up long ago. Like those dried-up veins, Vanhi’s shutters are closed and dim. Men rush around us, situating the catapu

  23KALINDA We fly into the night, the mahati falcon undaunted by the dark. Glittering stars chase us, so close they promise the warmth of a thousand wishes but mock me with their unreachable light. The soul-fire I parched from Indah has long since receded, and as she cautioned me, I am colder than before. My jaw aches from clamping my chattering teeth. Ashwin holds on to me, a rock against my tide of shivers. I thirst for soul-fire. The temptation to parch him or Tinley presses into my chest. If I move my hand to Tinley’s arm— No. Remember Indah. I will not violate another friend’s trust. Midway through the night, I drift off into delirium. When I wake later, night still stretches to infinity, and my shivers have stopped. I am not cold; nor am I warm. I feel . . . I feel . . . nothing. Even the ache in my knee has gone. Freedom from pain would be a gift, but the sudden emptiness unsettles me. My heart beats slow, a sluggish thump. I shut my eyes and search for the star in my private nig

  24DEVEN The explosions start just after dawn. Our unit is already packed and hiking the path along the river. Quakes from the army’s assault on the city wall vibrate up from the ground. We all removed our disguises, leaving our scarlet uniform jackets and headscarves in the hut. When I woke, my fingertips were healed. I cannot figure out why my burns are gone while Opal’s are still healing, but it is a mercy I have no time to question. I increase our pace uphill in the bare morning light. Natesa and Yatin keep pace with me. Opal lags some, but her pallor and posture have improved from yesterday. Her Galer powers are returning, so she listens for rebels. The stone pathway ends at a low tunnel. The entrance to the mines lies in the shadow of the Turquoise Palace. I pause to light a lamp we took from the hut, and a chakram flies past me, nearly slicing my nose. The blade embeds itself in the wall. All of us reel around, and the path beneath our feet drags us backward on a rockslide. Our b

  25KALINDA Hot wind guides the mahati falcon over the waves of ginger sand dunes. Ashwin and Gemi stoop forward in apprehension as dust builds on their skin. I search the blurry horizon, sepia fading to azure heavens, for the City of Gems. A shadow deepens on the skyline, materializing into view. Civilization rests upon an old, rounded mountain. The Turquoise Palace appears first, its gold-domed roofs a burnished reflection of the desert sun. White-walled towers gleam like ivory teeth above the drab city kneeling at the palace’s feet. Red-coated soldiers flying Tarachand banners with black scorpions swarm the outer wall. They crowd a blown-out hole and fling huge rocks to smash the gap wider. The imperial army is only minutes from breeching the city. Deven and the others would have found a safer, quicker route past the wall to await the navy. He will expect our arrival, so Rohan should be listening for us. Please hear us coming. Tinley clucks her tongue, and Chare dips lower. The falcon

  26DEVEN I stand straight as a pole against the corridor wall. Asha waits beside me, listening alertly. My muscles are stiff from hours of skulking down from the upper floor of the outer wing to the center of the palace. The door to the throne room is around the corner, but we can go no farther without the rebel guards at the main entrance seeing us. Where in gods’ name is Brac? He should have caused his distraction by now. A quake rattles up from the ground, extending in huge, terrible waves. Tapestries fall, and glass orbs shatter against the floor. Furniture skids across the tiles. I peer around the corner at the main entry. No rebels. I do not know how Brac managed it, but this must be his distraction. I dart out to check the entry and double stairways. Both are empty. I gesture to Asha, and we slip into the throne room. Daylight shines down from the high casements. Gone are the tidy rows of floor cushions for the rajah’s court to kneel upon. Tables have replaced them, set up in sta

  27KALINDA The cold cripples me halfway up the hill. I sway forward and land on all fours in the road. Between the rain and the deadness in my muscles, I cannot feel my feet. If the rebels’ intent is to drive the invaders back with a storm, their strategy is working on at least one person. Ashwin notices I have fallen behind and jogs back to fetch me. “Do you need to rest?” “Just for a minute.” I collapse against him. His soul-fire glows like a beacon, but I am so frozen not even his warmth appeals to me. Gemi backtracks to us. “Is she hurt?” “She just needs to get warm.” Even to me, Ashwin’s assurance sounds feeble. He lifts me into his arms and hefts me up the hill. A catapult snaps nearby, flinging a boulder at the palace. Ashwin freezes and then
sidesteps out of the middle of the road. Just when the threat is gone, a mighty gust redirects the boulder at the city. The projectile soars overhead and smashes into several huts on the neighboring road. “Keep going,” Gemi says, watching fo

  28DEVEN The sister warriors line up on the ramparts. Yatin, Natesa, Opal, and I are in the center of the troops, on the wall near the gate. Everyone is silent, like the flashes of lightning overhead, while we watch the army steadily approach. Galers conduct the storm from the palace balconies. Aquifiers are stationed beside open water barrels set around the grounds. Hastin and his Tremblers reinforce the outer wall from the courtyard and garden. The rebel army is small, about two hundred bhutas according to my estimate, approximately the same number of sister warriors. Brac has not returned, a concern I have no time at the moment to resolve. I cannot leave my troops, so I hope and pray he finds us. The torches of the army break through the roads. The infantry and archers fan out in front of the wall, men marching and artillery wagons creaking. They are as loud and mobile as we are motionless. Manas rides with the light cavalry and raises his hand for a halt. Hastin calls for the same.

  29KALINDA Deven’s head slumps to the side. Smoke rises off his chest, the foul scent of scorched flesh stomach curdling. Udug’s fire burned through his tunic, down to his skin. His flesh is charred and seared. The need to go to him claws at me, but Udug nears the threshold. Anu, don’t let Deven die, I pray and cross to the palace door, leaving Ashwin to care for Deven. “Don’t come any farther,” I shout to Udug. “Dearest Kalinda,” he purrs, “how are you enjoying the cold-fire I gifted you?” “I don’t care for your poison. Take it back.” His taunting laugh knocks against my tender spots. “I heard about the Samiya temple. I admire your nerve. Few mortals would dare burn down one of the gods’ sanctuaries. You must admit now that you belong to the dark.” “No, Udug. I belong right here.” Behind him, across a gulley in the palace grounds, Yatin clobbers a soldier. Sister warriors combat more imperial troops, the onslaught contained on the far side of the ravine. Our side is strewn with the dea

  30DEVEN I come upon Brac in the upper corridor off the main entry. He is dazzling a pair of ranis with a single flame dancing over his palm. I clap him on the back. “I need you to come along and speak to Prince Ashwin with me.” Brac extinguishes the flame and sends a parting grin at the women. “I’ll show you how I put out fire later,” he says. They are all swoons and big eyes as my brother and I start down the staircase together. “Those women know you’re a Burner, and they aren’t afraid of you?” I ask. Brac pushes out a raw laugh. “Odd, isn’t it? I spent my whole life hiding that I’m the most dangerous type of bhuta in the world. But now that the kindred saved the empire with her Burner powers, my rarity makes me desirable.” His buoyant voice holds an undercurrent of resentment. Brac may not need to conceal his powers any longer, but this sudden acceptance from society does not expunge the years he spent hiding in fear. Natesa and Yatin sit on the opposite curved staircase. Yatin sport

  31KALINDA I dismount Chare and set foot on snowy ground. The falcon immediately spreads her massive wings and launches off. She soars west, her fiery feathers blending in with the sunset. After almost an entire day of flying, the sun is more than three-quarters eclipsed. By dawn tomorrow, a mere crescent will rise. If the sun rises at all . . . Before Chare landed, I relied upon a bird’s-eye view of the area to search thoroughly for Udug within the frozen landscape. I did not see him. Tugging the bearskin closer, I hike over the hill, away from the frozen lake, past the burned forest, to the remains of the Sisterhood temple. The smoldering heat has gone. Ash and snow blanket the debris of what was the north tower. Part of the blackened piles of stone crumbled down the cliff to the gully below. I hold in tears. The tragic end of my home will never cease to devastate me. Darkness falls, a crisp curtain of raw winter. My banked soul-fire simmers, sending heat to my extremities. I consumed

  32DEVEN My breath snags on nettles of terror. Every soldier experiences setbacks in battle, but never have I felt more vulnerable. Surrounded by my family, I have more to lose than my life. I could lose the people who make my life worth living. Udug’s and his siblings’ jubilant screeches abruptly stop. Splashing fills the darkness, and then deep, resonant thuds vibrate up from the ground. Something has risen out of the water. And it is big. “Gods, Deven.” Kali strangles my forearm, but I am grateful for our connection. More whispers of shock and horror resound around us in the impenetrable dark. “What . . . what’s out there?” Natesa whispers. Booms approach our front line. The trembling ground knocks Kali and me back a step. “I don’t think you want to know,” replies Opal. Her amplified hearing can detect what is coming our way through the obsidian night. Brac tosses a heatwave at the forest across the way. His fire ignites the stubby alpine evergreens and strips back the darkness. The

  33KALINDA Kur will not be moved. No matter where Brac and I throw our fire, the demon god steps farther from the lake. The evernight will prevail if he gains more ground. I feel it in my gut. Brac discharges another heatwave at the serpentine dragon, his unique orangey flame weaker than his last. Our powers do not penetrate Kur’s scaly shell. We will soon lose the convenience of our soul-fire with this useless strategy. Nature-fire feeds off the trees, lighting the battlefield. Serpents dance in the flames, swirling and twirling happily. Their flickering eyes trail me, worshipful and adoring in our mutual love of the light. I stretch my fingers to them. My friends, I have missed you. Fiery tendrils shoot out and encircle my body, hot and heady. I call them to action. Create me a helpmate. The nature-fire hisses, and more flames zip from the wildfire. They whirl and fasten together, combining ferocity. A monster forms between Kur and me, a serpentine beast that rises to the demon god’s

  34KALINDA The Tigress Pavilion is warm today. Spring awakens heat from the afternoon, and a breeze ushers in a sweetness scented of blooming irises and sun-warmed citrus. None of the women or girls complain, of course. We are content with the sunshine, remembering vividly a world under a broken sky. I have finished my art lesson and dismissed my class. Sarita, my co-instructor, will come by later to pack up my supplies and return them to my chamber. She has an aptitude for painting, and as I may never sketch like I used to, she is a fine asset. In the center of the pavilion, Parisa and Eshana demonstrate sparring strategies. Their class of temple wards sits cross-legged in front of the full weapon racks, their attention rapt on the ranis wielding staffs. Near the black-and-white-tiled fountain, Shyla shushes three girls for whispering instead of listening and then lectures them on the importance of honoring the land-goddess Ki and her sister warriors. Rehan toddles at her feet, her lit

  CHARACTER GLOSSARY Kalinda: orphan turned first queen, a Burner Deven: general of the imperial army Prince Ashwin: heir to the Tarachand Empire Natesa: former imperial courtesan Yatin: soldier, Deven’s best friend Brother Shaan: member of the Brotherhood Indah: southern Aquifier, Virtue Guard Pons: Galer, Virtue Guard Brac: former rebel, Burner Mathura: Deven’s and Brac’s mother, former imperial courtesan Admiral Rimba: Indah’s father, southern Aquifier Captain Loc: captain of the raiders Princess Gemi: heir to the Southern Isles, Trembler Datu Bulan: ruler of the Southern Isles Rohan: brother to Opal, Galer Opal: sister to Rohan, Galer Rajah Tarek: deceased ruler of the Tarachand Empire The Voider (aka the demon rajah, Udug): demon unleashed from the Void The demon Kur: ruler of the Void Manas: general of the imperial army Priestess Mita: leader of the Samiya temple Jaya: Kalinda’s deceased best friend Healer Baka and Sister Hetal: sisters at the Samiya temple Tinley: daughter of Chie

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS Sending praise and salutations to these fine individuals: Jason Kirk, my commander in chief. Not an e-mail passes between us that I don’t utter appreciation for you as my editor. You’ve made my publishing journey a true joy. Clarence Haynes, the depth of your insightfulness and soulful questions knows no bounds. Without you, this book would be a shell. As you often say, excelsior and peace. Kim Cowser, Brittany Jackson, and Kristin King, for your cheerlea
ding from afar and your buzz-building efforts. You’re my sister warrior street team. My ever-supportive agent, Marlene Stringer. I fulfilled my vision for this world and story because of your unfailing support. Thank you for loving Kalinda. Kate Coursey, we are bosom buddies for eternity. You’re never getting rid of me. Fellow sister warriors: Veeda Bybee, Kathryn Purdie, Breeana Shields, Kate Watson, Tricia Levenseller, Charlie Holmberg, Caitlyn McFarland, Lauri Schoenfeld, Angie Cothran, Erin Summerill, Sierra Abrams,

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR Photo © 2015 Erin Summerill Emily R. King is a writer of fantasy and the author of The Hundredth Queen Series. Born in Canada and raised in the United States, she is a shark advocate, a consumer of gummy bears, and an islander at heart, but her greatest interests are her four children. Emily is a member of the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators and an active participant in her local writers’ community. She lives in Northern Utah with her family and their cantankerous cat. Visit her at www.emilyrking.com.

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.