The Rogue Queen (The Hundredth Queen #3)

Pons and Anjali fling their powers at each other. The sky crackles. Their airstreams clash, and a clap blasts above me. Lying on the cold ground, I cover my ears. Anjali falters a step. Pons’s winds push her back to the wall of fire. Anjali emits a guttural cry and ducks. His airstream blows past her into the trees, picking up flames and pitching them into the distance.

Anjali commandeers the northern wind and flies over me. She heaves a chakram at Pons. He dodges the spinning blade, and she soars over him and Indah. He chases her with lancing airstreams. Anjali dashes into the smoke, out of sight.

Indah runs to me, scrapes across her forehead and cheeks. “We tried to get here sooner. The northern Aquifier iced the courtyard gate shut and attacked us with icicles.”

“Help Ashwin,” I croak, rubbing my hoarse throat.

She hurries to the prince. Pons comes over, collecting my daggers along the way, and helps me to the lake. Slashes from Indira’s attack run up his forearms. I rest near the icy shore, and he returns to assist Indah with Ashwin. Pons lugs him over his shoulder. As they cross back to me, a streak of white zips into the sky. Anjali takes off aboard our wing flyer, vanishing into the night.

She will return to her father and report that she winnowed the prince to death.

Anu, spare him.

Pons lays Ashwin down on the rocky lakeshore. Though he does not wake, his chest rises and falls. I send up a prayer of thanks, but we are not out of harm’s way. We have to put out the fire.

Indah reaches for the lake, but the water is trapped under the ice. My own powers are spent, and I cannot wait for them to recover. Teeth clacking, I look down at Ashwin. Stealing another’s soul-fire to increase my own is wrong, but I need my powers to stop the fire from reaching the temple.

Gods, forgive me. I touch Ashwin and tug in his white-hot light. Warmth pours into my chest and fills up my heart.

Not too much. You’ll hurt him.

But his soul-fire is so warm . . .

“Kalinda!” Indah wrenches my hand from him. After a horrified look at me, she checks him over. Ashwin is still breathing.

I have what I need.

Favoring my knee, I dash off. Heat rolls off the nature-fire, roaring with fiery serpents.

Shh, my friends. Sleep.

They rage onward to the temple, the unrelenting northern winds pushing them to and fro.

Pons runs up alongside me, diverting the smoke with his winds. “You need to send the nature-fire away.”

“I’m trying,” I say, and then cry at the flames, “I am fire, and fire is me!” I reach out with my powers, but my hands glow a cold, pale sapphire. None of my soul-fire is visible within me, only this cruel blue.

The fire is beyond my control.

“Pons, we have to get everyone out!”

We sprint through the gate, past chunks of ice from when Pons and Indah hacked their way free. Priestess Mita ushers girls out the main entry into the courtyard. Several of the younger ones know Pons, and they rush to his side. He scoops the littlest up in his arms. Healer Baka comes with more wards. A stream of girls and sisters races for the lake.

Everyone has gotten out. Priestess Mita would not leave a single girl behind.

The fire snaps closer and closer. I attempt to quell it one last time. Priestess Mita gasps at my glowing blue hands. Please, Anu. Please. I concentrate so hard my head aches. But the nature-fire will not obey.

Priestess Mita and I dart outside the gate. She rounds on me. “You’re an abomination! You brought this destruction upon our heads!”

Her beliefs about bhutas are wrong, but I have no justification. My powers did this. I started this firestorm.

Smoke stings my watery eyes. Hungry flames chew onward, the wildfire feasting without restraint. All my years with Jaya are slowly leveling to ash. Are the gods punishing me for going against the Claiming? I only wanted men, especially men like Tarek, to lose their right to these girls. I never wanted this.

A shadowy figure appears nearby on the road. Tarek has come to witness the desecration of the gods’ sanctuary. The back of my throat cramps as the fire climbs to the north tower and devours the beacon in its cinder teeth.

Anu, send him away. If you have any mercy, you won’t let him revel in my pain.

But Tarek delights in the cruelty of the night, smiling not at the fire but at me.





18

DEVEN

The soldiers who earned the coin and bottle of apong sing rowdily across the way. My unit rests on the ground against the catapult wheels. I am dirty, sweaty, and so tired the campfire embers look like lanterns floating off into the sky. I could do with a long pull from that apong bottle, but I settle for the dirty cup of water and charred flatbread a meal server brought around.

Yatin sits alone and stares into the rocky plain while flexing his hand into a fist over and over. He and Natesa have not spoken since we left the village. Rohan eats quietly, his gaze jumping around so often my own nerves crackle. No one has come looking for the missing soldier, but that could still change.

A mild western wind swirls through camp, flowing from the barren region ahead. At our pressing pace, we will reach the Bhavya Desert the day after tomorrow, a full day ahead of schedule.

Natesa itches her neck. “How do you wear these?”

“We take our turbans off at night,” I say.

“How fortunate for you.” She scratches harder. “I’m not used to sleeping with something on my head. You’ll have to make sure I don’t rip it off and throw it into the fire.”

The group of drunkards across camp bursts into laughter. Rohan jogs his knee. His hunger to search for his sister will not be satiated tonight.

“When it gets late, I’ll take a stroll around camp alone,” I tell him.

Rohan sits taller. “I should go with you and keep an ear out.”

I can determine how upset he is by how often his voice breaks. That was three times. “It would be suspicious for us to wander around together. After today, we have to be selective about our risks.”

“You mean after you nearly got us caught?” Rohan grumbles.

“I won’t repeat my mistake,” I promise. “Have you heard anything?”

“No.” Rohan crosses arms, his frown understandable.

I lower my voice between us. “If Brac and Opal are indeed in camp, we’ll find them. Please wait here while I’m gone.”

“Is that an order?” Rohan’s voice pitched only once, but it was so apparent Yatin glances over.

“I’m asking for your trust.”

After my prolonged stare, Rohan concedes with a begrudging mumble.

Natesa stretches out her legs. “I’m fine right here.” She sneaks a tentative glance at Yatin seated at the end of the wagon. His aloofness bothers her, but she leaves him be.

I stride over to him. “How are you faring?”

Yatin glowers at his fist, his sight in line with my boots. “Natesa shouldn’t have taken her turban off today. She risked too much.”

I purse my lips in thought. “I doubt she sees it that way. Natesa’s a sister warrior. She was trained to stand up for herself and those she loves.” Yatin unclenches his fist, and I spot the lotus ring in his palm. Holding on to it must be adding to his unrest. “You should propose to her again. She may give you a different answer.”

“She’s stubborn.”