The Star-Touched Queen (The Star-Touched Queen #1)

“Maya—” called a voice in the distance.

The voice was distorted. I flattened myself against the banyan tree. A figure approached me, its edges blurred. I screamed, tripping over a quartet of glass roses, shattering them. Spikes of glass dug into my heels, and a howl ripped from my throat. Hands reached for me, but I fought them off. Desperate. Clawing against the stranger, but the hold was firm. And soon, my vision faded to black.

*

Voices broke through my foggy dreams.

“She’s not ready—” came Gupta’s voice from both near and far away.

A crashing sound, of anger and temper, filled the vacuum of silence as I pulled myself out of the fog. I shifted my weight, wincing from a sudden jab of pain. I could still hear Amar and Gupta talking, their words harried and rushed. I lay still, trying to hear more.

“Yes, she is. You’ve seen what’s happening outside.” Amar. His voice was so weary. He nearly croaked out his words. “I am always traveling. Always moving. And even then, even being in a thousand places at once, it’s not enough.”

“She knows,” said Gupta. “I don’t know how, but she’s hunting, like she’s caught a scent.”

Another jab in my side wrenched a gasp from me and I inwardly cursed. If I didn’t wake up now, they’d know I was eavesdropping. Carefully, I opened my eyes to a slit, and the gilded ceiling of the bedroom beamed back. I propped myself up, rubbing at my temples as I looked around and caught sight of Amar. Gupta had disappeared.

From the edges of the bed, Amar turned to me. Despite his exhaustion, a smile creased his face.

“Wonderful performance, though misdirected in the end. What do you remember?”

I strained to remember anything … but all I saw were flashes. Vikram’s dormant red thread, a glint of lightning and the surge of something nameless and powerful snaking through my veins. The tapestry loomed in my mind. A taunt. And then, with the full force of fresh shame, I remembered my failure. The thread wouldn’t move.

“What happened?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Amar sat up and began pacing the room. “Something wonderful.”

He grinned and I flinched. His smile was far too knowing to be mistaken as comforting.

“You’re beginning to show a sense of power and ability that has always been yours,” he said in his silky voice. “It’s why I came to Bharata in the first place. To free you. This awakening is what makes you a true ruler of Akaran, it’s what lets you control the tapestry.”

Nausea roiled in my stomach. The choices I’d made—throwing the wedding garland around his neck, agreeing to flee Bharata—were they ever mine to begin with? In the grand tapestry of Akaran, everything and everyone had a thread. Including me. My stomach turned.

What control did I have? The tapestry had rejected me. Perhaps he knew that and that’s why he chose me. I would be malleable to his will. But I was done. Done being treated like a child, done being left in the dark, done being instructed. Fury rent through me.

“You know just as well as I do that Vikram’s thread never budged,” I said stonily.

Amar bowed his head. Good, I thought. At least he could fake some guilt.

“I know.”

“Why couldn’t I? Why did you made it sound like I could? All this talk about being a true ruler here, this … awakening of power. Or control. I had no control over that thread. I couldn’t even pull it from one side to another.”

“It takes time. But it’s a start. It’s a new beginning,” he said. A chill ran up my spine. “For you and me.”

He braced his elbows against his knees, the sleeves revealing the bracelet of my hair around his wrist. He had tethered a part of me to him, but I had nothing of his. He kept all his secrets from me.

“Trust me,” said Amar. “And tonight, we shall celebrate. Where shall I take you, my queen? Your will is where I lay my head.”

My mind twisted into a snarl.

“How can I trust you?”

Amar’s grin slipped off his face and his eyes narrowed. “Have I not proven myself? I rescued you from death—”

“You don’t know that,” I retorted, my voice raising. “Perhaps I would’ve made a last-minute escape. Perhaps the kingdom would’ve changed its mind.”

“But they didn’t, did they?” said Amar coldly. “I’m the one who took you to safety. I’m the one who made you a queen.”

“Queen? I’m no better than a caged bird,” I bit out. The words tasted like bile.

“What would that make me? An owner? You have free rein, as always, over this kingdom. Much more freedom than any caged bird. Think on that. All I ask, for now, is that you don’t—”

“Walk alone? Question you? Breathe without your permission?” I offered, knowing what he would say. “I have free rein except when I don’t.”

I pushed aside the covers, ready to storm out when the silk sheet in my hand changed. The entire night sky had become our bed, stars glinted in and out, comets zinging across the part where I had clutched a corner of the sheet. I pushed my hands into the fabric, but they seemed to fall through and through, as if this really was the night sky …

The floor had changed too. Deep teal and translucent, the waters of a hundred seas. Beneath the waves, something turned a sightless eye toward me. A makara with a tail gleaming long and emerald. The salt smell of the ocean burned my nose. I felt overwhelmed with awe, fright … envy. Is this what I was capable of? Could I trust the person who could do this?

I blinked and the images were gone.

“A strange illusion,” I murmured shakily.

“Not an illusion,” said Amar. His voice was brittle. “Didn’t I promise you the power of a thousand kings?” He crossed the marble floor that had once been an ocean. Water glistened on his feet and a gray fish flopped helplessly in a corner.

He stood in front of me, his eyes hectic and alive. Even through my fury, I couldn’t look away from him.

“You and I are the ground and ceiling of our empire,” he said, his voice harsh and desperate, pleading and ruthless at once. “You and I can carve lines into the universe and claim all that we want. We need only share between ourselves. Don’t you see?”

“All I see is your power,” I said. “None of my own. All I see are my words and expectations thrown up against whatever it is that you choose to tell me—”

“—whatever I can tell you,” finished Amar. “And as for your power, I was hoping you would ask that. It’s time to practice.”

“Leave me alone,” I hissed.

“Your duties in Akaran will pay no heed to the whims of its empress.”

I bared my teeth at Amar and he returned it with a half-grin.

“From now on, whatever concentration you use is yours alone. It is your power. Not mine.”

“How would I know?”

“You’ll feel it in your bones. Like blood singing to marrow.”

I slid off the bed and when my feet hit the floor, something silvery trilled through my body, like light had seeped in and was rediscovering me. It was like being full for the first time. Like being weighed and made whole.

“Power needs balance,” said Amar. “Our game today, as our reign, is simply a matter of reaction. What can we do when chaos is flung into our face?”

A sound sliced through the air. I looked up just in time to see an arrow heading straight for me.

“What will you do?” asked Amar. His voice was everywhere at once.

I felt a tug in my hands, a strange itch and restlessness. Without thinking, I threw up my hands, all my attention focused on the arrow. It stopped midair. I flicked my hand and it whirled to charge at Amar. He snapped his fingers and the arrow shivered, paled and turned into a blossom of ice.

“I take it you’re angry,” said Amar. The brittleness from his voice wasn’t gone; if anything it seemed more pronounced. “Only two more days until the full moon. Then, if you want, you may certainly fling arrows into my back. Until then, try for more creativity. We cannot just spin problems back. We must do more.”

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