Bao laid one hand on the latch. “There is no lock on these doors. Are you ready?”
I shook my head, then nodded; then remembered Bao couldn’t see me. Releasing Amrita’s hand, I unslung my bow from my shoulder and nocked an arrow. “Are you ready, my lady Amrita?”
Her face was resolute. “Yes.”
“We are ready,” I informed Bao.
He turned the latch, shoved the door open with the butt-end of his staff, and jumped backward, cat-quick, his staff at the ready. The door swung inward silently, revealing the throne room.
And Kamadeva’s diamond.
Now I could see it glimmering on the far side of the room; and for a moment, it and Jagrati were all I could see. The strikingly gaunt, high-boned face that had haunted my thoughts, her dark skin gleaming in the twilight. The diamond pulsing at her throat, beating in time with her blood, beating in time with my blood. Even in the twilight, the black diamond made from a god’s ashes glowed with dark, shifting, blood-red fire.
I took an involuntary step forward, lowering my bow.
“No, Moirin!” Deftly, Amrita slipped past me, turning her back on the Spider Queen and raising her hands in a mudra to focus the will. “Be strong, dear one!”
No one could hear us in the twilight unless we willed it. I met her gaze and nodded, lifting my bow once more. “Aye, my lady.”
It was strange, so very strange, stealing into the throne room, coming upon that unholy tableau unseen. They were waiting for us, they were all waiting for us, gazing fixedly at the open doorway. There was one throne and Jagrati sat in it, her long fingers curled into armrests carved in the shape of roaring tigers. Four men were arrayed before her with weapons drawn, the Falconer Tarik Khaga among them.
Two others lurked on either side of the doorway, bristling with more weapons. We were close enough that I could hear them breathing.
“Bao?” I called, willing him to hear me. “Assassins waiting to ambush you on both sides of the door.”
He didn’t answer.
I hoped he had heard me.
Small and fearless, my lady Amrita advanced through the twilight, past the lurking killers, all the way to the foot of the throne. I followed her.
It took every ounce of concentration I had to expand the twilight and spin it around Jagrati, but I did it.
Her head jerked up in surprise as the world dimmed around her, her face contorting with fury. “You! What have you done?”
Behind me, there was shouting. Later, I would learn that Bao had indeed heard my warning, had come through the doorway in a low, diving somersault that took him past the lurking killers and came up fighting, the others crowding behind him.
Now, all I knew was that the battle was engaged, Tarik Khaga and his deadly falcons rushing to join it.
I wanted to look, but I couldn’t. I looked past the Spider Queen instead, keeping my arrow trained in her general direction. “No one but the Rani Amrita and I can see you, Jagrati. Give Kamadeva’s diamond to her, or I will kill you.”
She laughed.
A low sound, a sound at once soft and harsh. I felt it in the pit of my belly. Ravens fluttering. “No,” Jagrati said fondly in her silken rasp of a voice. “No, my oh so pretty dakini, I do not think so.” She rose from the throne, moving with that angular grace, Kamadeva’s diamond glowing at her throat. “Come, put down your bow, young Moirin. Do not threaten me. It is not who you are. You were made for pleasure, not killing.”
It was true; so true! With a sigh of relief, I lowered my bow.
Jagrati smiled. “Well done, child! Now release your magic.”
I wanted to obey her.
“Moirin, no!” Amrita’s voice rang out. She positioned herself deftly between us, her hands rising in a warding mudra. “Do not listen to her; do not look at her! Look at me, and hold fast to all you love!”
I raised my bow, blinking hard.
I held the twilight.
Jagrati hissed through her teeth, pacing with ferocious elegance. “Little Rani,” she said in a guttural purr. “Do you know, you are everything I hate in this world?”
“The world has not been kind to you,” my lady Amrita said steadily, her hands unwavering. “And I am sorry for it. I listened to the words you said before, and I will seek to be mindful of them in pursuit of the truth. But that does not excuse your cruelty.”
“Pious mush-mouthed creature!” Jagrati reached for her, then recoiled with another hiss. “Look at you.” Her voice dripped with contempt. “So brave, little daughter of the warrior caste; so proud to be doing her duty, so sanctimonious in her self-righteousness.”
It made me angry.
“My lady Amrita is none of those things save brave, Jagrati,” I said fiercely. “Do not project your own darkness on her.”
Jagrati’s glittering gaze settled on me, bringing the full force of Kamadeva’s diamond to bear. My blood thundered in my ears, throbbed in my veins. I had never been afflicted with a taste for life’s sharper pleasures, but that was before I had committed murder and taken darkness onto my own spirit. Now I sensed the absolution to be found in accepting punishment, in abasement and humiliation.
I was flushed and hot, aching between my thighs, beginning to shudder with the force of it. My yew-wood bow trembled in my hands. Kamadeva’s diamond glowed like dark embers, like a blood-red sun setting, promising razor-edged pleasures. Jagrati’s full lips curved in a smile. I wanted her to kiss me again, wanted her to touch me with those cruel, long-fingered hands, wanted her to hurt me. I wanted her to whisper foul things to me in that rasping, silken voice, compelling me to obey her, forcing me into unclean acts. Anything.
No.
No, I didn’t. Because Amrita stood between us, and I would not let any harm come to my kind and lovely Rani. Because Bao fought behind me, and I could feel the force of his diadh-anam burning bright and clear.
I would not let Jagrati and Kamadeva’s diamond turn Naamah’s gift into a curse. I clung to memories of brightness, memories of love. Mayhap Bao was right, and I did fall in love as easily as other people fall out of a boat; but I loved in earnest. Well, and so? I did but obey Blessed Elua’s precept, love as thou wilt.
Elua.
I had prayed to Naamah for aid, but the bright lady could not protect me from my own desires, even desire without love.
But mayhap Elua could.
“Blessed Elua,” I whispered in D’Angeline. “In the name of everyone I have ever loved, I beg you to aid me.”
Golden warmth flooded me, dispelling the darkness. The desire didn’t vanish, but it grew bearable. The shudders that racked me began to lessen, and I was able to steady my hands on the bow.
Anger suffused Jagrati’s face as she felt her influence waning. “What are you doing, dakini? What new spell do you speak?” She forced herself to calmness, coaxing again with her slithering rasp of a voice. “Come, Moirin. Do you not wish to please me? All I am asking is a small thing. Release your magic.”
I shook my head. “No.”
Behind me, the clashing, clamoring sounds of battle were beginning to dwindle. There were low sounds of agony, men groaning and whimpering with pain. If we had won, it would come at a price. Jagrati’s gaze slid past me. I wondered what she saw.
“Bao?” I called.
“Uh-huh!” he grunted in reply, and I heard the sound of a blade clattering against his steel-wrapped bamboo staff. “Almost done, Moirin.”
I kept my arrow trained on Jagrati, and although the Spider Queen of Kurugiri was as beautiful and terrible as Kali dancing, and Kamadeva’s diamond shone around her throat and sang to me, there was only rage and hatred in her. I could not love her. Like my lady Amrita, I pitied her; and I saw her hate me for it.
There was a final clash behind me, then a heavy thud and two sharp thumps, followed by Bao’s soft “Heh.”