Shadow Caste (The Melderblood Chronicles Book 2), page 20
Bhumi lifted a mirror, and Aviama blinked back at her reflection. Bright eyes stared back at her beneath the glittering jeweled headpiece with the amethyst down her forehead. Gold chain with smaller amethysts mingled with her hair, twisted back into elaborate braids at the nape of her neck before falling freely the rest of the way down her back. The stones at her neck, cold and heavy, sparkled in the sun’s rays pouring in from the window, drawing the eye up to her painted lips and eyes.
Gold embroidery glistened from the satin sash across her torso, the lilac bodice fitted through to the hips and then falling to the floor. Radhan and Jannemari influence blended together from head to toe in a surprising but pleasing array. The jewelry was a bit much—overwhelming and unnecessary—but over-the-top extravagance was the way of Radha, and Aviama intended to play the game.
A game of dress-up to combat a bloody chopped-off head on a platter.
It didn’t seem like an appropriate comeback, but it was all she had. So, she would do it to the hilt.
The thought of Enzo, the memory of his frozen face, sent a rippling chill down her spine. The queen could not win. She could not be permitted to maintain a death grip on the palace. And Aviama was in a position now to weaken her hold.
But was it worth it to weaken Queen Satya if Aviama had to strengthen Shiva to do it? If she partnered with Shiva to weaken Satya, and partnered with Darsh to escape Shiva, was she really any better than the Shadow she had accused of selling their souls?
Aviama swallowed and looked away. “Thank you. You all did a great job. Now someone send word to Prince Shiva that it’s time to uphold his promise. I’m ready to go to the menagerie. Alone.”
Durga and Sai curtsied and disappeared, and Bhumi began straightening the room. Aviama perched on the edge of the sofa, careful not to muss her hair, wondering what Durga could be doing if Sai was running off to carry her message to Shiva. It wasn’t a two-person job. What did she plan on spilling to the queen before tonight’s dinner?
Bhumi finished organizing and dusting the vanity, then came around to fluff the pillows of the couches and chairs. She glanced twice at Aviama, furtively, as if unsure of herself. Then she swallowed and looked up at her again. “I know why you don’t want to marry Prince Shiva. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. But I understand…this is a great sacrifice for you.”
Aviama’s lips parted, and her chest ached. Someone understood her. After the terse, threatening exchange with Shiva, Bhumi had seen what a horrible match the two of them would make, what a miserable life they’d have together with Aviama only used for power plays and dominance.
Bhumi fluffed the nearest pillow and shot her a coy look. “Ramta. You’re in love with him.”
Her stomach plunged to her toes, and heat flooded her face. “What?”
The girl tried unsuccessfully to suppress a small smile. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. But I think your work with the Shadow is admirable. I hadn’t thought of how much you’d be giving up to be queen. Please know that I’ll do everything in my power to make your situation more comfortable.”
Aviama gaped at her. Bhumi wasn’t thinking about her interaction with Shiva at all. She was hung up on her and Chenzira, as if some forbidden love with another man was the primary problem with her engagement. And even with this belief, Bhumi still believed Aviama had every intention of sacrificing herself and her supposed love of another man for the sake of being the melderblood queen. Her supposed love for a man whose corpse may have been floating in the lotus pool just that morning. If only she’d been able to turn him over…if only she’d seen his face…
She opened her mouth to object, but the door opened, and Sai peeked in. “It’s time.”
Aviama jerked up from the couch, the rustle of satin and clink of jewelry marking her movement, and smoothed her skirts. Bhumi dipped her head, and Aviama fled out the door toward the menagerie with Sai.
Sai flashed a letter with the royal seal at the guards outside the menagerie doors, and they opened them without a word. Sai curtsied at Aviama and disappeared down the hall. Aviama stepped inside the menagerie, a sense of calm washing over her the moment the doors swung shut.
An uneasy feeling always accompanied the tingling sensation the magna-lined walls of the menagerie brought. If Shiva were going to let her be alone anywhere, it was here, where her powers were useless. But at the same time, the animals didn’t carry any agenda besides their next meal, and Makana was a kindred spirit.
Aviama wished she’d learned more about Makana’s people since seeing her last, and about the hold the Iolani held over the sea, but between Shiva’s demands and Darsh’s, she hadn’t had a moment to spare. Perhaps today she could learn what Makana knew about the king’s plans and find out how to help.
The monkeys chittered loudly at her entrance, as if every lizard and troll in the place needed the warning of her presence. The bird of paradise across from the monkeys brought her head out from under her wing just long enough to see what all the fuss was about, and promptly returned to her dreaming. Aviama snatched up the folds of her skirts and hurried down the aisle between the cages, headed for the aquarium.
The ornately carved doors of King Dahnuk’s private office stared her down from the opposite end of the large room, and for a moment Aviama wondered if she had time to pick the lock and snoop for information. But the longer she stayed in the palace, the more opportunities she’d have to bargain with Shiva for visits to Makana. She’d get into the king’s office next time. Today, she needed to calm her racing heart and wipe Enzo’s murder and Chenzira’s possible death from her mind long enough to put on a show at dinner. She needed a friend.
Bursting yellows and azure blues flashed through the water in a school of fish along the side of the aquarium glass, and Aviama ducked into the path between the enclosures to follow them. Back through the narrow space, back to the troll cage, back out of sight of the main entrance or the king’s office.
Aviama hiked up her skirts, climbed up the bars of the troll cage opposite the aquarium, and searched the water. Purple, orange, and pink fish swam past, parting in three different directions as a larger fish surged into their midst. Aviama thought of Makana’s words to her last time they met. You must not marry.
Yes, well, she didn’t want to marry. But the only other person in the world who seemed to be on the same page was Chenzira, and he might be dead.
She needed every split second of time with Makana that she could have. And last time, Makana had required a song. But what melody could tell the siren that Aviama’s position was more precarious than ever? That she was trapped between the queen, the prince, and the Shadow leader, and the people who tried to protect her were dropping like flies?
Aviama sang, hesitant and soft at first, the notes drifting into a Jannemari dirge for the dead. Her chest constricted, and her eyes welled as Enzo's and Chenzira’s faces swirled to the forefront of her mind. No, she wouldn’t focus there. She couldn’t.
Her song broke off from the minor key, jumping up into a climbing tug-of-war tension between high and low, fast and slow—wordless, yet somehow more meaningful than any of the songs to which she’d dared put lyrics. Besides, the last one she’d penned was stupid and ridiculous. This one poured out the anxiety wrapping her chest like a chain, the danger pressing in from every side.
Silky white hair and silver scales caught the light from the window, as the mermaid, gliding effortlessly through the water, cut across the distance from halfway across the aquarium. Aviama’s voice faltered at the sight of her, then pressed on with long, urgent notes until the siren breached the surface at the water’s edge, and Aviama let the song die, unfinished.
Makana tilted her head at Aviama, glanced around, and reached one hand out of the pool toward Aviama. Aviama pressed her palm to Makana’s, and Makana dipped her head. Tabeun sister. But she didn’t say it out loud.
Aviama dropped her voice to a whisper. “What’s wrong?”
“Not alone. Spear man here. Something happen.”
“What do you mean? Who is the spear man? Are they keeping guards inside the menagerie now?”
Makana pulled back from the edge of the water, and Aviama leaned further out over the distance between them. “What have you heard? What happened? Shiva’s making some announcement tonight, but I don’t know what it is. And I don’t know how long it’ll be before I can bargain with him to come here again. How can I help you? Who can I trust?”
The mermaid shook her head. “Must not marry. Must not give Radha weapon for sea. Must not give him keys.”
The key to the sea. The key to the melders. “I know, I know. I’m trying, but I need help. I’m alone out here, and everyone I think could be a friend turns out to be working for someone.”
Makana shook her head again. “Not alone.”
She’d said it twice, but it took two tries before Aviama realized what she meant. Someone was there, in the menagerie, watching them. Right now.
The mermaid glanced to one side again, and Aviama spun to follow her gaze. Her foot slipped on the bars, and she fell—just as the silhouette of a man emerged from the shadows.
29
Aviama’s scream stuck in her throat as the shadow lunged to overtake her. She dropped like a rock, but strong arms reached out and caught her before she hit the unforgiving floor. Aviama’s breath came in short gasps, her pulse thundering in her ears. Eyes of endless cedar brown with flecks of gold pierced her through, a mere handsbreadth from the end of her nose, her body gently cradled against his as though she were no heavier than a dove.
“You didn’t scream.”
“I’m getting better at that.” Aviama bit her lip. “You’re not dead.”
Chenzira frowned. “Why would I be dead?”
“They caught a melder last night. The queen’s hyena ripped him apart and left him in the lotus pool. I saw the body.”
“Who was it?”
“I don’t know. But my bodyguard from Jannemar, Enzo, wasn’t a melder, and his head was delivered to me this morning with brunch. So, at least two people have been killed in the last twenty-four hours, and I thought—I thought it was you.”
Chenzira pursed his lips. “You were worried about me?”
Aviama’s midsection burst into a warm, weird squirmy feeling. But that wasn’t right. She’d just talked about two dead people. “That’s all you got from what I said?”
He sobered. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that happened. That’s horrible. You’re right, I was being stupid.”
Aviama shifted in his arms, suddenly aware of how close they were and how long he’d held her. “Um, you can put me down now.”
“What if I don’t want to?”
“What?”
“Nothing. You just have terrible balance, you know. You trip a lot. I’d hate for someone as important as you to hurt yourself.”
Chenzira set her down, and Aviama rolled her eyes. He grew serious again as he looked down at her. “Are you okay?”
Aviama threw her hands up. “What about what I just told you could possibly give you the impression that I am okay?”
“I’m sorry.”
Aviama crossed her arms. “Yes, well, at least you’re not dead. And for the record, I think I’ve made it clear I don’t like it when people die, so that shouldn’t have been a surprise.”
“What shouldn’t have been a surprise?”
“That I didn’t want you dead.”
He leaned against the aquarium glass and folded his arms, each of them standing like mirrors of the other. “You wouldn’t want me to think you cared about me specifically, is that it?”
“No, I’m just—I gave up a lot to keep you alive, you know?” Aviama winced and licked her lips. Biscuits. “I’d hate to see it go to waste. By doing something stupid and getting yourself killed. So, don’t do stupid stuff, okay?”
“Don’t do stupid stuff.”
“Yes. Like sneaking into the palace to see me when they just murdered a melder last night for being here.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Who says I came to see you?”
A long tail smacked the glass next to Chenzira, and he jumped away from the glass. Above them, Makana perched her elbows on the edge of the aquarium and twined a piece of seaweed between her fingers. “Spear man ask me talk to you. Very important. Came for you.”
Chenzira gaped up at the mermaid, and Aviama snort-laughed before she could stop herself.
“She says.” Aviama grinned.
Chenzira’s mouth twisted into a sheepish, answering grin. “Okay, fine, so I came for you. To get a message to you. I figured you’d come to see the mermaid eventually, and I hoped sooner rather than later.” He paused, shooting Makana a look. “She didn’t speak a word to me. Didn’t even acknowledge I spoke. Just stared at me. Now, with you, she’s a chatterbox.”
Aviama shrugged. “What can I say? She is my sister.”
A small smile broke across Makana’s perfect, impenetrable features, and here with the Keket boy and the siren, Aviama felt safer and more at home than she had in weeks.
Further down the menagerie, monkeys chittered as some sound or other aroused their curiosity. Chenzira glanced around the corner, grabbed her hand, and tugged her further down the pathway between the aquarium and the trolls. “I did need to see you. I have news, and it’s not good.”
Every comforting feeling disappeared, save the softness of Chenzira’s hand against hers. She hoped he wouldn’t let go. He didn’t.
“King Dahnuk is planning an attack on Jannemar, but he’s moved up the timeline. He’s got a force headed around by land. It’ll take them time to get into position, but I just found out they already left. Two weeks ago. And he’s got a fleet of ships slated to leave the harbor as early as next week. None of the crew knows where they’re headed, but it’s an impressive number. You’ll be busy with whatever distraction Shiva cooks up for you, whatever this announcement is that he’ll make tonight. But something is going down, and soon.”
Aviama’s lips parted. An army would be marching on her home before Zephan and Semra even knew she was engaged.
Chenzira continued. “Darsh isn’t willing to wait. The bulk of Radha’s military force, both by land and by sea, will be away from the palace in just a week. Shiva and Satya are so focused on their power grabs over you, and these plans with the wedding, that they’re more distracted than we can ever hope they’ll be again. And Dahnuk has been consumed with his war plans. All the variables are lining up, and Darsh doesn’t want to wait. If we can’t provide him a better time to sweep through, he’ll skip the training phase and let the melders loose on the palace to wreak whatever havoc necessary to secure the throne.”
Ice shot through Aviama’s heart. “That’s too soon. Too soon for everything. What happened to Darsh waiting for me to become queen first?”
Chenzira grimaced. “He wasn’t impressed by your stunt at the bathhouse. He saved face in front of the others, but I think you’re turning out to be more trouble than he thought. Darsh thought you’d be pliable, that you’d be grateful for the position and opportunities he offered. But the Shadow is talking about you in extreme terms. You’re divisive. Some think you’re salvation itself, and others think you’re too slow and too careful. They don’t want to work on moving dirt particles. They want to rip buildings apart at the foundation.”
Aviama’s stomach churned. “What do we do?”
His grip tightened on her hand, so hard her fingers hurt. He searched her face, solemn as the grave. “There’s some sort of event tomorrow night in the grand ballroom. Don’t be there. Be anywhere but there.”
A lump lodged in her throat. Images started filing through her mind at lightning speed: debris flying in the smoke of explosives, a knife lodging in her mother’s chest, blood pouring onto marble floors. Liben’s glassy eyes, Enzo’s severed head. The corpse from last night, floating in the lotus pool, his back torn to shreds by the queen’s hyena. Aviama took a step back, and her voice trembled. “Chenzira…what’s happening tomorrow night?”
Chenzira shook his head. “I can’t stop it. I would if I could, but I can’t. The Shadow isn’t controlled enough to only hit their intended targets. I don’t think they’ll take survivors. I don’t think they want to.”
“They can’t just…slaughter everyone. They can’t.” Aviama sucked in a ragged breath, shaking her head over and over.
No. No. No.
They couldn’t do this. But Chenzira’s face held the same answer she knew was true in her heart. They could, and they would. And they’d sleep soundly over the bodies after the massacre.
Aviama squeezed her eyes shut. If the Shadow succeeded, the wedding would be off. If Darsh still planned to use her as the face of his revolution, she’d still be bound to a tyrant, responsible for death upon death. And if he didn’t plan to use her…well, then, she was already dead. Her utility had run out.
She opened her eyes, and as she stared up at Chenzira, a glisten in his eye betrayed a deep sadness she’d not seen before. Aviama clenched her jaw to keep it from quivering.
“Who would they make king? Darsh? The people know he’s a criminal. They hate him. Rebellion will know no end. If he does this, he will be twice as bad as Dahnuk. He’ll be just as genocidal, just with a different group to kill.”
Chenzira spread his hands, took a breath, and let it out. “I don’t know.”
“Tell me you’re not part of this.”
“Sand and sea, Aviama, I didn’t know. I came as soon as I heard. Darsh would kill me if he knew I was here.”
Could she believe him? Or had Darsh sent him to feed her these lines because he saw what Bhumi and Arjun had seen—that she trusted him more than she should? Aviama ran a hand over her face, then adjusted the headpiece she had accidentally knocked askew. “I’ll do my best to figure out what’s happening tomorrow. I’ll try not to be there, but you have to try to stop it from happening at all.”
“I don’t think I can.”
“I don’t care. You linked yourself with Darsh. Try.” Aviama cleared her throat and smoothed her dress. “How do I look?”
