The Rogue Queen (The Hundredth Queen #3)(36)

“No, but the demon rajah held a Galer prisoner, so he could have others.” General of the imperial army or not, as the organizer of this mission, I cannot allow my friends to follow me any farther. “I’m going back to camp before everyone turns in for the night. The army is vast and growing. I’ll blend in and search for Brac and Opal on the march to Vanhi. You three return to the wing flyer and meet with the Lestarian Navy.”

“What about General Manas?” Rohan asks.

“Manas is here?” Natesa asks. “And he’s the general?” She and Yatin scoff in reproach. Both are acquainted with Manas’s and my history. “Deven, he’ll kill you if he finds you.”

“He won’t.” Or he’ll be sorry. Regardless of our past friendship, my mercy for Manas is long spent. A gong resounds in the distance. “That’s the call for curfew. I have to go.”

Natesa grabs my arm, holding me in place. “Not without us, you don’t. We took too long to find the army. We’re supposed to meet with the navy day after tomorrow. Even if we run all night, we’ll never make it in time.”

“Then wait here, and I’ll come back for you.”

“No.” Her grip tightens. “When my sister was claimed and taken from the temple, I never saw her again. The next I heard, she’d passed away.” Rohan grimaces, and she tempers her tone. “I didn’t get a chance to go after my sibling like you and Rohan have. Tomorrow morning, all of us will join the army and march to Vanhi.”

Yatin crosses his arms over his chest. “The army will punish a female infiltrator differently than a man.”

“Then I’ll pretend to be a man,” Natesa counters. “I’ll wear a uniform and hide my hair. I won’t get caught.”

Yatin is right to worry. Neither of us would ever mistreat a female prisoner or abuse our rank to coerce a woman, but some soldiers take repulsive liberties. Natesa would be more at risk for certain acts of violence than us men. I can hardly guarantee my safety, let alone hers.

“Udug executed the Galer I mentioned,” I inform her. “For your protection, you should all turn back.”

“You can accept our help or not. Either way, we’re coming with you.” Natesa tromps into the woods.

“Where are you going?” Rohan whispers after her.

“To get the uniform.”

Rohan makes a face. “The dead soldier’s clothes?”

“Are you going to stop her?” I ask Yatin.

He leans against the tree. “There’s no sense in it. Changing Natesa’s mind is impossible.”

Before long, she returns wearing the deceased soldier’s jacket and trousers. Their roominess conceals her womanly shape. She ties her hair up and winds his turban around her head, hiding her long tresses. Although we do not wear turbans when we sleep, Natesa stares at me through the shadows, daring me to forbid her to come along. I have had loyal comrades in the past, men willing to fight for my life, but none of them has ever undressed a dead man and worn his clothes for me.

“Fine,” I say. Off in the distance, camp has gone quiet. We will draw too much attention strolling in after curfew. “We’ll sneak in when they break camp at dawn. Get some rest.”

Through the dark, I hear Natesa’s victorious accord and Yatin’s lamenting exhalation. Rohan says nothing. I accept his silence as a bid of amenability.

The four of us bed down on the forest floor, sticking to the dry patches preserved by the thick branches overhead. Rohan curls up close to Natesa for warmth. She plucks a leaf from his hair and strokes the locks from his eyes. Kali told me Natesa has a dream of opening an inn someday. I can picture her with a place of her own, caring for weary travelers.

Watching her with Rohan drags up a memory. Once when I was ten and Brac was seven, he ran away from the palace nursery. Many hours later, I found him huddled beneath a lemon tree in the stoning courtyard. Bodies of dead bhutas were buried under bloody piles of stones, decaying in the desert sun. He had run off after I had railed at him for ruining my wooden sword. I can still recall the imprints of his small fingers seared in the hilt of my favorite toy.

That was when I knew Brac was special—and I had to protect him. I threw my wooden sword in the hearth, turning the evidence of what he could do to ash, and never spoke of his abilities. But after that, we both changed. Brac became calculating and distrustful, and I acted as though nothing was amiss. Pretending was the only way I knew how to save him from ending up in that courtyard.

I wish I could return to the days when I was his bigger, stronger brother, but we are not masking his birthright from a grudge-holding rajah. We are up against an enemy that not even his Burner powers can impair.

As the rain drums faintly, my concerns turn toward daybreak, when we will infiltrate the demon rajah’s army.





13

KALINDA

Someone kicks my chair, bringing me upright. Indah stands before me, cradling a steaming teacup. “You sleep in the strangest places,” she says.

“What time is it?”

“Midmorning.” She shuffles in front of my chair and leans against the open casement. Sunlight falls in behind her. The snow clouds have passed, and the air is warmer. Icicles drip from the window. The tower beacon pushes warmth at my back, adding heat to the warming temperatures. I relit the flame last night after Tarek left. My memory of his visit is fuzzy in the light of day, pulling apart my confidence in what I saw.