Page 33

Thirty-Three

Duja

A chorus of surprised shouts rang out across the Black Salt Cliffs the moment Duja delivered the first strike.

Merely an hour earlier, the king had been at her side, desperate to pry their daughter from Imeria’s clutches.

Now his blood soaked the sunbaked grass.

For her entire life, Duja had taken great care not to succumb to fits of rage.

She was not her brother, nor was she like the generations of wrathful Gatdulas who’d come before them.

But when she looked at the other woman, she could see nothing but the joy Imeria had stolen from her.

And when Duja’s gaze fell on Imeria’s quivering lips, all she could taste was vengeance.

Courage.

This in Pangil’s voice.

His ghost was right; it was time to end Imeria Kulaw once and for all.

The last remnants of precioso pulsed in Duja’s veins.

The pillar soared through the air at her summons.

It struck Imeria square in the chest, knocking her to the ground with a resounding thud.

The next time Duja blinked, the other woman was lying sprawled across the cliff face like a broken doll.

She drew in a shaky breath.

Tears sprang to the corners of her eyes as shocked cries tore through the crowd.

From the ground, Imeria didn’t budge.

Had Duja killed her at long last?

She ought to scream in triumph or crumple in relief.

But all that filled her was a weary and bone-deep sadness.

No time to examine Imeria’s unmoving body.

From the sides of the cliffs, Kulaw and Gatdula warriors readied their weapons.

“Your Majesty!” Ojas was at Duja’s side in moments.

He tightened his grip on his sword, awaiting her order.

Imeria Kulaw might have fallen, but her people wouldn’t surrender without a fight.

Duja stole a glance at her husband’s body lying several feet away.

My love, my love, my love.

She steeled herself against the renewed rush of pain and nodded.

“Charge.”

The ground shook, not from her beckoning, but from the stampede of royal guardsman rushing to meet their foes.

The air filled with cries of pain and clanking metal as the clash resumed with unrestrained fervor.

The fighting earlier had already taken large chunks out of both battalions, leaving dozens of bodies strewn across the Black Salt Cliffs, but Imeria’s allies had suffered the greater blow.

Those who remained would fight to their dying breath.

Without Imeria Kulaw’s infernal powers, they were hopelessly outmatched.

If they were lucky, the Gatdulas’ forces would make short work of them.

Duja sucked in a breath, readying herself to reenter the fray, when a head of curly hair darted past her.

“Bulan, stop!” she cried, grabbing her by the shoulder.

Bulan jerked back in surprise.

“But General Ojas. He needs?—”

Duja shook her head firmly, swallowing the lump in her throat.

I cannot lose you too.

“Fall back,” she told her.

“Go to the palace. Take your sisters and?—”

She faltered and spun around.

Chaos had broken out all around her.

The rage that had overcome her mere moments before faded to blind panic.

Her eyes widened in fear as she searched for her daughters.

Amidst the mass of clashing bodies, she could not see Laya or Eti anywhere.

When she opened her mouth to call for them, booming thunder rolled overhead.

She looked up.

Black clouds blew in from across the Untulu Sea, shrouding the cliffs in darkness.

The air above them cracked and sizzled.

At last, Duja’s gaze fell on Laya.

She was standing at the cliff’s edge once more.

Harsh winds swept her hair from her face.

When she raised her palm, lightning exploded in the sky behind her head.

Its blue light flashed across the gold plates of her headdress.

“Your men are outnumbered, Imeria. You’ve lost!” Laya taunted, her voice echoing over the clamor of the battle raging on the cliffs.

Duja’s heart hammered.

How was Imeria still alive?

Desperate, she whirled around.

Imeria was back on her feet, and she was making her way to her daughter.

Duja lunged in Laya’s direction.

She was too far.

Imeria got to her first.

“Stupid girl.” Imeria let out a sharp, hollow laugh.

“You know nothing of loss.” Before Laya could blast her back, Imeria grabbed her by the throat.

Laya fell to her knees with an earsplitting shriek.

Duja stared, helpless, as Imeria sent tides of pain surging through her daughter’s skull.

At the sound of the princess’s screams, the battle ground to an abrupt halt.

“Dayang!” a deep voice yelled?—Ojas.

Duja saw him standing several feet away, not far from the edge of the cliffs.

He thrust his sword into the belly of his opponent.

The Kulaw warrior fell to the ground with a moan.

Ojas leaped over his body as he rushed to Laya’s aid.

Across the cliffs, several other royal guardsmen followed suit.

They ran to Laya, but before they could reach her, each and every one of them froze in their tracks.

Duja’s stomach knotted in dread.

Imeria hadn’t kept her word.

The precioso.

An eerie quiet overtook the cliffs.

Laya’s storm clouds dispersed across the horizon.

All around, the Gatdulas’ most loyal guardsmen froze where they stood.

The whites of their eyes turned black as they fell prey to Imeria’s curse.

The silence broke as swords thudded against the blood-soaked grass.

One by one, they surrendered their weapons.

Duja met Imeria’s eyes.

The other woman’s palms were raised to the heavens.

A breeze swept in from the sea and ruffled Imeria’s skirts.

She stood there calmly, a buoy drifting amidst the rolling chaos.

She returned the queen’s gaze, head cocked to the side, as if she were inviting her to make the first move.

“What will it be, Duja? I have your daughter,” Imeria called to her.

But Duja could hear no wrath in her voice.

Imeria sounded tired.

“Not Laya. Please, ” Duja pleaded, desperate.

“She killed him.” Her voice cracked.

“She killed Luntok.”

Duja looked around helplessly.

Laya was stock-still at Imeria’s right.

Beside her stood Ojas, his sword arm frozen midstrike.

Dozens of the Gatdulas’ allies were caught in Imeria’s curse.

And Duja could do nothing to save them?—nothing except run.

“She killed my boy,” Imeria said, her shoulders shaking with repressed sobs.

A stone dropped in Duja’s stomach.

“The fault is mine. Take me,” she begged.

Imeria’s fine features contorted in pain.

She didn’t say a word.

She stood as frozen as the guardsmen flanking her.

Duja let out a shallow breath and held out her hand.

“Come,” she said.

“Too many have died. I am the one you want.”

“No,” Imeria whispered, shaking her head.

“Take me ,” Duja said again, her voice carrying in the wind.

“Please, my heart.”

The other woman swayed on her feet.

A gentle gale sailed over the cliffs, whooshing through the blades of grass.

Duja could still peer into Imeria Kulaw’s heart, even after all this time.

She may be a monster, but not even she could stomach mindless bloodshed.

Not when her victory had been stolen from her.

Not when both families had lost so much.

If she wanted to avenge her son, so be it.

Out of the hundreds of souls frozen on the Black Salt Cliffs, there was only one life she wanted.

After a moment of tortured deliberation, Imeria lowered her hands.

She steeled her shoulders and straightened her back.

“If that is your wish,” she said, her voice constricted.

Imeria limped toward Duja in slow, measured steps.

She clutched her side, wincing; she may have survived Duja’s blow, but not without a couple of broken ribs.

As she approached, she freed the men she passed from her power.

They pitched forward, falling to their knees, groaning as they regained their senses.

“My lady!” Vikal called from across the cliffs.

His blood-drenched sword fell limply to his side.

He stared after Imeria in shock.

“What on earth are you doing?”

But Imeria didn’t answer him.

She took Duja’s arm.

“Let us end this,” she agreed.

At her side, Bulan let out an indignant cry.

“Mother, where are you?—”

“Take care of your sisters,” Duja said, her throat tightening.

She tore her gaze away from Bulan’s questioning eyes.

Then she flexed her fingers and clawed deep into the earth.

It rose beneath her and Imeria’s feet, before shooting off into a rippling wave that carried them away.

Duja transported them far from the Black Salt Cliffs.

Paths so high above Mariit were scarce, but she didn’t need them to ascend to the mountaintop.

She wielded the earth over the rolling foothills, weaving between the moss-coated boulders and whistling riverbeds and flowering pine trees, all the way to the summit of Mount Matabuaya.

At the top of the mountain, several hundred feet above the capital city, lay a lake.

It was small, not even a mile wide, and it was born from the crater below the rugged gray ledges that formed the mountain’s jawlike peak.

She released the earth at the edge of the lake, where it settled back beneath the surface with a shuddering groan.

Imeria, who had been clutching Duja’s arm tightly, fell to her knees.

She lay there, panting, as she caught her breath.

Duja didn’t look at her.

She stooped low and laid her hand atop the lake’s smooth, glass-like surface.

Her fingers trembled as she dug deep, the precioso thrumming dimly through her veins.

The summit vibrated as she carved out a tiny island at the center of the lake.

She gave a last tug, and a slender strip of land sprang out from the island to the lake’s edge, sending ripples across the water’s surface?—a footbridge.

“What on earth...,” Imeria murmured.

Once more, Duja ignored her.

Carefully, she stepped onto the bridge.

The earth didn’t crack beneath her weight.

She followed it, one step at a time, until she made it to the island.

Then she turned around and waited for Imeria to join her.

“Oh,” Imeria said.

“I think I understand now.” Gingerly, she planted one foot on the bridge, moving cautiously so as not to upset her injured ribs.

The narrow outline of Imeria’s figure wavered in the silvery fog.

She glided toward Duja like a fevered fantasy that Duja had dreamed up when she’d been too young to know any better.

A hallucination.

A mirage.

Neither of them spoke; the only sound was the dull pad of Imeria’s footsteps as they echoed across the water.

Duja shivered as a zephyr breezed through the summit, rustling her tangled, dirt-ridden hair and the bloodred hibiscus flowers that poked through the rocky ledges of the crater.

For a brief moment, it lifted the veil of mist hiding Imeria’s face from view.

She stared at Duja, her slender jaw squared and her fine eyebrows arched in anger.

Duja’s chest tightened.

Imeria had always been the braver, the lovelier, of the two.

She was the reason Aki was dead.

“To die alone. Is this what you wanted?” Imeria called, her voice a delicate saber that pierced through the blanket of fog.

She lifted the hem of her skirt and stepped onto the island, which was almost too small to shelter both of them.

If she leaned in, her breath might have danced across Duja’s hollowed cheeks.

“I am not alone,” Duja said, unable to quell the ache blossoming in the pit of her stomach.

“We’re both alone,” Imeria said with a firm shake of her head.

“You shouldn’t have come all the way up here. You shouldn’t have abandoned your men.” Her nostrils flared as if she were chiding her, but Duja thought she heard a quiver of remorse in her voice.

“You were the one who should have stayed on the cliffs. You shouldn’t have followed me here,” Duja said.

“I’d follow you anywhere. I’ve been chasing you since the moment we met.” Imeria’s voice quaked.

Duja fought the urge to reach for her.

As the queen stood across from Imeria, the harrowing battleground at the base of the mountain faded to a distant nightmare.

This lake was the only universe that had ever mattered, all because Imeria Kulaw stood at its quiet center.

“You knew long before I did,” Duja told her.

“It was always meant to be you and me.”

The corners of Imeria’s lips curled into a pained grin.

“Then why do you sound displeased? I allowed you to draw me away.”

Duja shook her head bitterly.

“Too many people have died,” she said again.

“We must end this.”

“I agree.” Imeria’s hand shot out.

Without warning, she cupped Duja’s face.

Her fingers were gentle?—a clever mimicry of a lover’s caress.

Duja knew better.

She jerked back, but it was too late.

A wall of pain struck her body.

Duja keeled over.

She felt as if a thousand knives had sliced through her skull and lodged themselves into her brain.

She tried to beg for mercy, but her mouth hung open in a silent scream, unable to form words.

In her agony, Duja grew acutely aware of the battle’s toll on her body.

She felt every tear in her muscles, every pang in her limbs.

The ache flooded her all at once?—along with the full weight of the previous twenty-two years.

Since that fateful day in the palace courtyard, everything she had feared had come to pass.

Strangely, Duja found freedom in it.

She stopped struggling.

Let her body fall limp.

It was easier to lean into Imeria’s palm.

Easier to offer herself up to her tormentor like a boar on a spit.

Imeria’s hard voice pierced through the burning haze.

“What are you doing?” she demanded between labored breaths.

“Fight me. Fight back. ”

She relented long enough for Duja to let out a tired chuckle.

“This once, Imeria, I wish I could indulge you. But I’m afraid I have no fight left within me.”

“That’s it, then?” Imeria gritted out.

Once again, the queen had disappointed her.

“You’ve decided to forsake your family. Your people. The same way you have forsaken me.”

Duja allowed her eyes to close for a brief, arduous moment.

She barely felt the passing wind as shame heated her cheeks.

Atop Mount Matabuaya, there was nothing to shield her from the honesty in Imeria’s words.

For the first time in two decades, they were truly alone.

Isolated from their families, their armies, and the court that had kept them apart.

What brought them there?—a child’s yearning?

A god’s wrath?

Their love was once a secret whispered in a young girl’s ear.

Perhaps, in another life, they could have remained princess and companion, rather than queen and enemy.

But their bloodlines had sealed their fate long before.

A Gatdula and a Kulaw, drawn together for no longer than a heartbeat in history.

Reunited miles above the capital, they left nothing but destruction in their wake.

No declaration of love, no promise of mercy, could have altered the outcome.

They should have known their path would lead there, in the end.

Duja’s heart filled with hollow acceptance.

“Haven’t we been punished enough for our youthful errors? Or is more violence to follow? More senseless death?” she wondered aloud.

Bitter recognition flickered in Imeria’s expression.

At last, she released her.

Duja fell to the ground, trembling, her chest slicked with sweat.

She looked up.

Something had broken in Imeria’s gaze.

“I don’t wish to hurt you, Duja,” she said in a ragged voice.

“I didn’t wish for any of this.”

Duja saw her own torment reflected in the other woman’s eyes.

The thick fog blurred the harsh lines of her face.

In the dusky light, Imeria almost looked like the girl she’d been when she’d arrived at the palace.

She hadn’t harbored such hatred inside her then.

Duja looked at the vessel of destruction and pain she had become, and her heart filled with grief.

I created this.

“You must forgive me,” Duja whispered.

“If I had been kinder to you back then?—”

“Duja, don’t.” Imeria turned away.

Her shoulders shuddered.

She was crying.

“I was loyal to you. I defended you when your miserable brother threatened to burn you to a crisp,” she said as the sobs wracked her body.

“I loved you, Duja, even though I knew you would never love me back. I told myself it didn’t matter. I thought it an honor just to serve you. I never would have harmed you. By the gods, Duja, I was your heart . How could you not see that?”

Duja’s soul cleaved in two.

For a long moment, she said nothing.

She listened to Imeria’s cries as they echoed across the crater?—the sound of Duja’s mistakes.

“I’m sorry, Imeria,” she whispered as she reached for her.

Imeria folded into her embrace.

Her hands clung to Duja’s filthy hair.

Her touch was gentle.

This time, no pain came.

“I’m sorry,” Duja said again.

Her arms tightened around Imeria’s shaking shoulders.

The other woman’s long, ink-black hair tickled her collarbone.

A spark of the decades-old yearning burst in Duja’s chest.

She leaned in and pressed her lips to hers.

Imeria gasped in surprise.

Duja reeled her close by the neck, deepening the kiss.

Imeria’s lips tasted like soured feast wine, but they were warm and full and softer than orchid petals.

Softer than Duja remembered.

I’m sorry, my heart.

“Duja,” Imeria sighed, crumpling in her arms.

By the time she noticed Duja withdrawing slightly, thrusting one hand to the ground, it was too late.

The delicate island below their feet gave a violent lurch.

The ledges of the crater began to crumble.

Giant chunks of rocks chipped away and tumbled into the clear water of the lake.

With her free arm, Duja reached deep into the earth and yanked with all her might.

The mountain peak groaned, and the tremors escalated.

“Duja,” Imeria gasped.

She tried to pull away, but Duja held her tightly to her chest.

The crater started to cave in on itself with a deafening roar.

Duja sucked in a breath.

A shallow calm washed over her.

Together.

This was how it was always meant to end.

Imeria tried to press her hand to Duja’s temple, but Duja drew back, shaking her head.

“My power has already penetrated deep into the mountain. You cannot stop it now.”

“No.” Imeria shook her, digging her nails into her arms.

“Duja, please. Think of your children,” she begged.

But Duja did not relinquish her hold on the earth.

She steeled her jaw and pulled harder on the invisible threads.

The trembling intensified.

“It’s for my children that I must do this,” she said.

She dug her fingers into the energy thrumming at the heart of the mountain and turned her wrist.

Tremendous mounds of earth gave way from the walls of the crater.

Faster, the rocks tumbled down, down, down.

The ground beneath them sank deeper, swallowing the lake.

Imeria cried out in fear and clung to her.

Duja met her eyes.

This time, Imeria stared back at her with resolve?—both women had accepted their fate.

Lower and lower, they sank.

Imeria’s fingers curled around the nape of her neck.

She pressed her forehead to hers.

Vaguely, Duja remembered the promise they had whispered to each other as girls: until the end.

Rocks tumbled over and around them, jagged shapes that devoured the sky.

She could no longer hear her own heartbeat.

She could no longer hear Laya’s thunder.

She felt only the heat of Imeria’s breath as they descended into the darkness together.

A moment of quiet, and she thought she heard Aki’s deep, hearty laugh resonate from the other side.

The last glimmer of light faded.

The island, reduced to a delicate sliver of ground, cracked open beneath their weight.

Duja’s heart leaped from her chest, too heavy with grief and tenderness and pain.

Images flashed before her eyes.

She saw her daughters, the round-faced girls they’d once been and the women she watched them become.

She saw her husband looking up from his book to gaze at her.

He awaited Duja.

He was standing alone across a luminous river that sang as it coursed around the bend.

He was holding out his hand, inviting her to cross over to the next life.

Around her, the jagged rocks continued to fall.

She had broken the delicate balance that held the crater together.

The entire summit vibrated, and she could do nothing to stop it.

I’m coming, my love.

Hara Duja closed her eyes and allowed the mountain to swallow her whole.