The Rogue Queen (The Hundredth Queen #3)(25)

My belly flips and dives. I have razed once before. An Aquifier cut me several times to bleed out a poison that hid my abilities. I will not relive that excruciating ritual for a temporary reprieve. “Can you do anything?” I plead.

“No,” he replies, his tone gentle. “I’m sorry.”

I sink onto the chair, knocking my pack to the floor. The temptation to lie down and let the cold consume me nearly pushes me to tears. The healer repacks his basket. Why did he even come if he cannot help me? I want to tell him to go away, but I withhold my bitterness. Lashing out at him would be wrong, and I cannot abide the thought of Udug winning in any small way. He will not compel me to cry or give into my endless shivers. He would have me believe I cannot survive. But we have the Lestarian Navy on our side, and soon the rebels will stand with us. Both are mercies from the gods.

I harvest a kernel of courage and push out my voice. “How long do I have until . . . ?”

“The full effect of the poisons takes a moon to manifest.”

“Udug poisoned me a fortnight ago.” I have about that much time left to find a remedy the healer is unaware of or persuade Udug to cure me. Any chance is better than the healer’s predicted outcome. “Are you certain no one can ward off the Voider’s powers?” I ask, thinking of Ashwin. “What if someone’s soul-fire can lessen the cold within me?”

“I would caution against relying on another’s soul-fire to supplement your own. Such practices are unpredictable and will worsen your side effects.” My fear returns, as does his kindly voice. “If you stay in Lestari, I will make your final hours comfortable.”

I scoop up my bag. “I must go.”

“Kindred, I pray you’ll reconsider. The damage the Voider’s powers are wreaking—”

“Is less than what he plans to do the world.” I pause at the door. “Thank you. I trust you’ll keep this between us.” I wait for the healer to grasp my expectation and then go.

Ashwin rushes down the corridor, dressed in his travel clothes. “There you are. We’re ready to depart.” He slows to a halt, his eyes growing. “What are you wearing?”

“Trousers. Mathura said they flatter me.”

His color reddens. “I—she—” He fumbles for words that do not come.

Healer Mego exits my chamber and leaves in the opposite direction.

“Who’s that?” Ashwin asks.

“A healer Indah sent to see me. Should we go?”

“Wait.” Ashwin holds me in place. “What did he say?”

I am dying, not dead. Right now the difference, thank Anu, is tremendous. I muster a wobbly half smile. “I’ll be fine.”

“Thank the skies.” Ashwin’s arms come around me. “You’re my strength, Kalinda. I cannot do this without you.” I should move away, but his nearness drizzles over me like warmed honey.

Healer Mego must be incorrect. Ashwin’s touch serves as an antidote to the Voider’s poison. Embracing his nearness for the good of my health cannot be harmful or I would feel something besides this blissful absence of cold.

He releases me, and the hoarfrost inside me shakes loose again. My body’s reaction makes up my mind. I cannot do this without him either. Ashwin will be my protection against the Voider’s poison in the days to come.

Outside the main palace entrance, a wing flyer fills the crushed shell courtyard. Ashwin and I join Pons and Indah, who secure our packs to the passenger platform with rope. Datu Bulan speaks to a palace guard off to the side. In the distance, the last navy vessel disappears through the breaker passageway, out to sea.

“I didn’t know the datu kept wing flyers,” I say.

“He traded the Paljorians for them a few years back,” Pons replies.

“Prince Ashwin,” asks Bulan, striding over, “have you seen my daughter? Gemi was supposed to meet us here.”

“She’s gone with Admiral Rimba,” I answer. “Gemi volunteered to enlist, and I accepted.”

The datu’s mouth drops open, and his color rises.

Ashwin mutters a curse and scrubs at his forehead. “Kalinda, you didn’t.”

“Gemi said the admiral wouldn’t allow her to go without our authorization.” I lob my gaze back and forth between them, uncertain why they are angry. “I saw no sense in turning down a capable Trembler.”

Datu Bulan blusters out a string of indecipherable syllables and then shouts at his guard. “Signal the bridge! Tell them to bring back my daughter!”

“They’re gone, sir,” replies the guard. “The navy has passed through the breaker.”

“Then send a boat after her!”

“Princess Gemi said she wanted to go,” I explain, trying to pacify him.

The datu marches up to me, his white robes stark against ruddy cheeks. “The admiral was under orders to leave my daughter here. Prince Ashwin and I determined Gemi wouldn’t go to the war front. The prince suggested we exclude her, a bhuta ruler. All command was to fall to her should you fail. Now the demon rajah could wipe out my people’s future!”

“My apologies,” Ashwin says. “The kindred was unaware of our agreement.”

“Gemi didn’t tell me either,” I add. “I’m sorry.”