The Rogue Queen (The Hundredth Queen #3)(15)

My hand touches the flame, and the dragon recoils. Shh. I am fire, and fire is me. The dragon bares its fangs and then flies down into the center of the flame and vanishes.

The lamplight flickers in the breeze. My soul’s reflection has never retreated from me before. I suppress a shudder, the cold inside me seeming to snicker at my failed effort to elude it. What are my powers good for? Tarachandians believe I should be stoned or locked up. The sultan believed bhutas should be slaves. And the datu treats our gifts like sideshow displays. I did not master nature-fire or learn how to scorch and parch soul-fire to entertain people.

But I have always flouted convention. My fevers made me an outcast at the temple, and my disgust for Tarek made me an outcast at the palace. My uncommon Burner powers make me unusual even among bhutas. I was born a rogue. I am the daughter of a Burner and a rani. Two people that by all rights should never have fallen in love. I came into this world with a purpose, to finish what my parents began. The Voider can steal Tarek’s identity, our army, and our people, but he cannot take away my birthright.

I wave my hand, and the flame puffs out.

Darkness rushes in, and a heavy, burdensome premonition prickles at me. Someone is here. I draw one of the twin daggers strapped to my thighs and peer into my shadowy room. Out of the darkness steps a man not of flesh and bone. He consists of the vile parts that are left after a body decays. I throw out a heatwave and illuminate him.

“Tarek?” I whisper.

He shields his eyes. “Put out the light.” Tarek’s voice wrenches me out of my shock. I push more soul-fire into my fingers. He shies from the radiance. “I’ve come to warn you.”

“You’re dead.”

“Kalinda, I will not see my empire fall. Tarachand is my legacy.”

Every pain he caused me fires off inside my head and heart. I want to let the past go, put all this ugliness behind me, but my memories shackle me.

“Your legacy is of fear and hatred.” My hands burn brighter. Tarek cringes, and his indistinct form begins to fade. “Go away. You’ll find no mercy here.”

He peeks out from behind his blurry fingers. His haunting voice roughens. “Kalinda, I still love you—”

I hurl a heatwave at him. His hazy shape shatters into a thousand oblivions that shower down, hit the floor, and disappear.

Light. I need light. Shaking all over, I rush around, lighting every lamp until the chamber is aglow. I slump down onto the bed.

I still love you.

I rap my fists against my head to bang out his voice. “Leave me alone. Just leave me alone.” In the abrupt silence that follows, my clarity sharpens to an unbearable point. “I hate you,” I whisper to him, wherever he may be. But my abhorrence is irrelevant. To the gods, our marital bond ties my soul to his. I will be Tarek’s wife for eternity.

Someone touches my shoulder. I whirl around with my dagger, and Ashwin lurches out of striking distance. “It’s me.”

I drop my blade. “You snuck up on me.”

“I knocked before I came in. Are you all right? You’re shivering.”

“I . . .” Not knowing where to begin, I start to cry. Ashwin enfolds me in his arms. I clutch him close and rest my cheek against the hollow of his neck. A steady current of heat flows off him and into me. “You’re so warm,” I push out from between chattering teeth.

“What happened?”

“Tarek was here.” My tears flow faster. “Why couldn’t Jaya have visited me? My soul should be tied to hers, not his.”

“Kali, you’re making no sense. You saw Tarek?”

“He was a shadow, but it was him. He said—he said—” My voice hitches, and I press my cheek hard against Ashwin’s collarbone. He rubs my back, his heart drumming near my ear. “Do you think I’m bound to him forever?”

“No one can rule your heart, not even the gods.”

“But our matrimony vows—”

“Marital bonds cannot last past death; otherwise every marriage in every life would be honored. Think of the tangle of nuptials.” He runs his hand down my hair. “As I understand it, souls aren’t bound by wedding vows but by love.”

I swipe my forearm across my damp nose. “Tarek repulses me. Don’t you despise him?”

“He angered me sometimes . . . but mostly he made me sad.” Ashwin pauses and then whispers, “We were both a disappointment to each other.”

I do not share his rationale. “I hope Tarek suffers an eternity of darkness for taking Jaya from me.”

Ashwin leans back until we are eye level. “Tarek hasn’t taken Jaya away forever. Have you heard the tale of Inanna’s Descent?”

“Once.” Non-deity myths were not part of my studies. I am in no mood to listen to childish stories, but Ashwin wants to cheer me up, so I oblige him. “Inanna went into the Void to search for her lost intended.”

“Her intended was not lost. A demon seduced him. Demons have corporeal bodies like you and me, though they’re monstrous. This particular demon had the power to assume a mortal form.”

Much like the power Ashwin gave the Voider when he released him to fulfill his heart’s wish, but he brushes over this similarity.

“The night before their wedding, the demon took the form of Inanna and entered her intended’s bedchamber. Trusting the demon was Inanna, he went off with her into the evernight.” I settle closer to Ashwin, his voice a mild rumble. “The next morning, Inanna donned her wedding robes and set off to be married. She waited at the altar all day for her intended, but he did not come. Jilted, she returned home and locked herself away. She refused to see anyone and could not find the strength to change out of her bridal attire. Many nights later, she woke to find her intended at her bedside. He could not step out of the dark, nor could she light a lamp without him fading. He had traveled by shadow to tell her he was trapped in the Void.”