The first stirrings of Rohan’s winds whistle through the garden.
“Deven,” Yatin calls. “We’re ready.”
“Shouldn’t you wait for Kalinda?” Mother asks.
“Kali would be here if she planned to see us off.” I start for the wing flyer. I could seek Kali out and plead with her to change her mind, but the last time I thought I knew what was best for her, I wound up in a prison camp and she sought solace in the boy prince. And truthfully, I am not fully prepared for her ultimate decision.
“Deven!” a voice shouts from behind me. My foot strikes a lump on the ground and I stumble sideways. Princess Gemi hurries to me. “Sorry. I meant to stop you, not trip you.” She gestures at the mound of grass she lifted with her powers. “You’re leaving?”
“That’s right,” I reply, setting off again.
She stays at my side. “Admiral Rimba said you’re meeting the fleet in a few days. I asked to go with him, but my father won’t allow it. May I go with you?”
I halt and take in her white tunic tucked into dark trousers and the machete at her waist. “You don’t strike me as the type of woman who asks permission.”
“You’ve never angered my father.”
“You aren’t instilling much confidence in my letting you come along.”
I stride away, but she tugs me back. “Please, General.” She rests her hand on my chest and bats her sooty lashes as though a gnat is caught in her eye. “Let me go with you.”
“You really aren’t told no often.”
She runs a finger up my neck to my chin. “I’d never tell you no.”
A chuckle escapes me. Even if Princess Gemi were to charm me, I cannot give her what she wants. “The prince has more clout with your father than I do. Ask him.” She begins to protest, but I rush right over her. “I won’t be accused of kidnapping the datu’s heir. I suggest you endear yourself to Ashwin or forget about leaving Lestari.”
She drops her hand. “The prince is a wet noodle. I knew right away you’re the one I could count on.” I should be irate that her fawning over me has been a manipulation, but I am tempted to ask her to repeat her wet noodle comment to Kali. “Will you at least put in a good word for me with Ashwin?”
I grin humorlessly at her request. “You’re asking the wrong person. Persuade Kalinda to your side, and you’ll get what you want.”
“That’s it? I need only talk to the kindred?”
“Believe me,” I call out, winds whipping at my back, “she can be hard to convince.”
Everyone waits aboard the lightweight, birdlike flyer. I climb on, lie across the riding platform between Yatin and Rohan, and grip the bamboo navigation bar.
“Could you hold on any tighter?” Rohan asks me.
I purse my lips, a warning for him to stop teasing. He knows how much I dislike flying.
His summoned winds pluck us off the ground into the morning sky. I wave farewell to Mother and Chitt and stretch my gaze to the palace grounds and balconies for a glimpse of Kali. But we whizz away from the glimmering spires that soar over the aquamarine cove, and pass over the breaker.
The Sea of Souls unrolls like a ribbon to the horizon. Down the coast, a ship lurks near the breaker. The sea raiders’ yellow two-mast vessel is easily identifiable. The raiders must be lying in wait for the navy’s departure. I expect they will assume the prince and Kali are aboard one of their ships and pursue the fleet to the mainland. At the very least, Kali’s decision to fly to Samiya will help her evade Captain Loc. Even so, I already regret leaving without bidding her good-bye—and gods’ mercy.
7
KALINDA
I limp down the corridor for the open archway that leads to the garden. A breeze flows inside, the tail end of stronger drafts summoned by a Galer. I quicken my step, but my bad leg gives out, forcing me to brace against the doorway.
Gritting my teeth, I hustle outside under the palm trees. Whooshing air momentarily steals my breath. The wing flyer is airborne. Deven, Natesa, and Yatin ride with Rohan. I limp for the garden clearing, calling for Deven. The loud winds thrash the palm fronds and drown out my shouts. The wing flyer streaks over the cove and quickly shrinks into the sky.
I plunk down on a stone bench, rubbing my sore knee. After Deven left Ashwin’s chamber, everything moved so fast. Ashwin dispatched a carrier dove with a letter to Hastin, and then we went to the datu. Bulan agreed with our endeavor to ally with the rebels and ordered Indah and Pons to fly us to meet Hastin. Everyone launched into a flurry of preparations for our departure. I returned to my empty bedchamber to collect my belongings when, from the terrace, I saw Deven and my friends leaving. I squeeze my eyes shut on gathering tears. Gods know when we will meet again.
“Kindred?”
I stifle a groan. Of all the people to see me upset . . .
Princess Gemi sits beside me. “I realize I haven’t made a good first impression,” she says, “but nothing happened between Deven and me.”
“I didn’t assume otherwise.” My chilliness should be off-putting, yet the princess loiters.
“He watches you, you know. My father used to look at my mother the same way Deven looks at you.” Princess Gemi hugs one knee to her chest, the ease of her trousers allowing the movement while retaining modesty. “The general’s party is supposed to meet with the navy in four days where the River Ninsar connects with the River Nammu. I’d like to go with the sailors, but the admiral won’t let me on board without the prince’s permission. He’s a taskmaster about protocol. Can you help a fellow sister warrior?”
Her sweet talk about sister warriors does not motivate me, but Admiral Rimba requiring her to receive authorization from Ashwin is ridiculous. Datu Bulan enlists female Virtue Guards, and women serve in his navy. Clearly he approves. Moreover, Princess Gemi is a grown woman and the next ruler of the Southern Isles. Fighting for her homeland should be her choice.
“Tell Admiral Rimba I’ve requested your attendance. And let him know my party will also meet with the navy where the rivers connect.”
She scrunches her lips to the side. “Will the prince honor your decision?”
I can think of no reason why Ashwin would protest bringing another bhuta into our ranks. We are willing to accept the rebels’ assistance, so we can certainly accept hers. “If you’d like to ask him, he’s inside. But you should hurry. The fleet looks ready to disembark.”
Princess Gemi’s attention zips to the docks. The sailors have finished loading the vessels and they file aboard. She hops up. “No need. I’ll tell the admiral. We’ll meet again in four days!” She takes off downhill with a speed and ease that wring a drop of envy out of me.
Trousers on a woman. Why didn’t I think of that?