The Rogue Queen (The Hundredth Queen #3)(57)



I bristle in defense. People are not afraid of Burners merely because they fear fire. They fear the violation of someone parching their soul. “I only borrowed Ashwin’s soul-fire because I was trying to stop the wildfire from spreading.”

“You didn’t borrow anything—you robbed it. Parched soul-fire cannot be returned.”

I snap my mouth shut. The opposite of parching is scorching, wherein a Burner pushes their powers into another and scorches them to ash. So, no. I cannot return the soul-fire I take.

“Parching too often is addictive. You could become dependent on others’ soul-fire to replenish your powers.” Indah places her hand on mine. “What are demons most known for?”

“Frightening people.”

“They frighten us because they thrive off destroying all that shines. Demons spite the stars, curse the moon, and abhor the sun. I know Udug’s cold-fire is still within you, but the cost is too great for you to give in. You’ll sacrifice your inner radiance for a moment in the sun—then it will fade, leaving you parched for light.”

I tell Indah what I dare not admit to Ashwin. “I don’t know if we can defeat him.”

“You can. Fight him, Kalinda. Hold on to your inner star and don’t let go.” Indah seals her encouragement with a kiss on my cheek. Being with child has opened her to all sorts of affection. “I’ll go see where Pons got to.”

She leaves the chief’s quarters, but her caution acerbates my worries. Will Udug’s cold-fire forever change me? I know of only one way to find out.

I exhale and close my eyes.

A tiny light glows in my mind. My inner star’s color has changed from a clear light to brilliant sapphire. The longer I search for purity in the blue light, the icier I feel. The star grows razor-sharp points that spike into my skull. Behind my eyes, it burns like frostbite. I open them, and tears pour out. The stinging inside my head stays, a rising pressure of cold.

Indah and Pons come back in to find me doubled over and clutching my head.

“Kalinda, what happened?” Indah asks, hurrying to my side. I wait for the flash of cold to thaw, but the icicles impale deeper. She presses her warm palm to my forehead. “You’re freezing.”

Her warmth is like a cool drink in the desert. I react as a starving soul and draw in her heat. Her soul-fire flows into me, trickling down my body. Indah gasps, locked against me, as I parch more and more—

Pons wrenches her away. She teeters, and passes out. He catches her limp body and jostles her. Indah does not wake. His terror-filled gaze darts to me. I have devoured Indah’s soul-fire, chewed it up and swallowed it down.

Backing away, I have no words. No justification.

I flee the chief’s quarters and run down the plank. A brisk wind slaps my cheeks, but I am warm. So wonderfully warm and bright.

Demons steal the light.

Is that what I am becoming? Udug’s cold powers are strangling the mortal and bhuta sides of me. Without them, just one part of my heritage will be left—the ancestry line that traces back to the fire-god’s natural father, the demon Kur.

Clutching the bearskin at my throat, I slow near the mahati falcon. Tinley and her father ready the great bird for our journey. While they pass heated words back and forth, Ashwin waits a respectful distance away. He also wears a bearskin for our flight.

After a reticent glance at me, he explains, “Tinley wants to stay in Vanhi and fight, but her father forbids it.”

“I’m sorry I was angry with you. It was unfair of me.”

His attention jumps to me. “I’m sorry my heart’s wish hurt you. I wasn’t aware I had . . . that it tied us together.”

Behind the squabbling father and daughter, strings of smoke rise from the temple wreckage. Standing before the ruins of my home, my own heart’s wish comes to mind with painful clarity. “For years, my dream was to live here in peace with Jaya.”

“And now?”

“I still wish for peace.” I bury my chin in the bearskin, imagining Indah’s disappointment in me when she wakes. Though I could try to rationalize my actions, I endangered her and her unborn child. I stole her peace of mind and possibly ruined her trust.

Chief Naresh’s voice breaks through my thoughts. “I’d like you to come home when you return from Vanhi, Tinley. Your mother and I miss you.”

“I cannot,” she says in a frustrated growl. “Chare didn’t hatch from one of our nests. The flock will view her as an intruder. She’s so small, she could get hurt.”

Ashwin and I size up the falcon. Bya was massive, but Chare is still large. How big do mahati falcons grow?

Chief Naresh briefly closes his eyes, seeking restraint, and strides to us. “Tinley will take you now. Kindred, it’s been a joy.” He envelops me in a hug. Deven holds me like this, until my heart may burst from his goodness. “The gods will watch over you. Go on your way now. You’re losing daylight.”

The chief hands his bearskin cape to his daughter. She accepts it, kisses him hastily on the cheek, and leaps astride her great bird. Ashwin helps me up and hoists himself behind me. The hems of my trousers ride up, and the bird’s sleek feathers skim against my ankles.

Chare extends her swooping wings and leaps into the air. Tinley summons an elevating gust, and I momentarily lose my breath. The abrupt climb is like taking off in a wing flyer.

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