I Shall Rewrite the Stars

Chapter 19

***

Juba chuckles softly. When I say no more, he glances down at me. “Selene?”

“Forgive me, I-…I just remembered, for a moment, what our lives were supposed to be like right now,” I say. “Sometimes, I feel terrified to smile or laugh or feel…happy. I should be overcome with gratitude for how much fate has changed already, but then the visions cross my mind—they haunt me at the most random times, and I...”

“I understand,” Juba says, nudging me closer. “There are many times when I find myself fearful of happiness. It is so fleeting, and in Roma, can rarely be trusted. Even here and now, I fear that the time we’ve spent together has been merely a dream, and I will soon wake to find Gustavian leering over me again.”

“I fear more than anything, that I will let my guard slip to the extent that I am captured again, and every chance I’ve been given will have been for nothing.”

“It won’t happen—even if we must flee and lead Gustavian on a chase that lasts the rest of his life, he will not capture us again. And once he’s gone, we will know a freedom that no one could dare challenge.”

“We?” I ask.

Juba sets his free hand atop mine. “For however long it lasts, you’ve gifted me this respite from Gustavian’s cruelty. How could I ever think to leave you behind?”

“You stand a far greater chance of survival, than I do. If it meant protecting you, I would beg you to part ways.”

“But you would miss me.”

“I would miss you terribly, for all the lingering days of my life. But I would miss you far more, were you to die and I be left in a world without you.”

We fall silent, as the scent of smoke and pork fill the air. Closer to the fire, Mrunal and his companions sit passing jokes back and forth. As I listen in, I realize they are laughing at the idea of Raja wedding Helios.

“Her Highness will sooner be the master of their marriage, than an obedient wife,” Mrunal laughs, handing a small, clay jug to the man on his right. “Ah, but Helios didn’t seem to mind giving her the reins, on our way to Pataliputra. If anything, he looked upon her as though she were the most wonderous sight in all the world.”

“Does the boy lack ambition?” a man asks, from his left.

“Or manly pride?” another laughs, flinching at the jabs thrown his way.

“I think he sees her for herself,” Mrunal says, leaning back on his elbows. “Her Highness may be the most proper rajkumari in all the world, when His Majesty is around, but we all know who she really is. A wild girl, a dignified rajkumari, a widowed mother to a sickly child—Helios saw it all, and accepted it all without a moment’s hesitation! He really is a remarkable guy."

 Mrunal tips his head back then, catching my gaze, and I smile. “For now, what he treasures most is their friendship,” I say. “But someday, those feelings will grow to become more.”

“Knowing Her Highness, she wouldn't have it any other way.”

“You seem to care greatly for Raja,” Juba notes. “Even when we’re so far apart, you refer to her with respect. She must be an exceptional mistress to have earned such loyalty.”

“You give her too much credit,” laughs the man to Mrunal’s right. “She’s kind enough, but spoilt as a child.”

“And greedy when it comes to sweets,” snickers another.

“And always stirring up trouble! If she weren’t the only legitimate child of us lot, His Majesty might have had her head by now!”

“Of you lot?” Juba asks.

Mrunal sits up, twisting to hand me a second clay jug. “All of us here, are illegitimate children of His Majesty’s. We look after Her Highness not only due to respect and the desires of our maharaja, but because she’s our only sister.”

“Our reckless, stubborn brat of a sister,” the rest say, as if they’ve repeated such words a thousand times.

“Illegitimate children are not acknowledged by their fathers, in Indrira?” I ask.

“They usually aren’t in Roma, either,” Juba says. “Kemet’s norms are very different from the rest of the world.”

“I know that, but…”

“Don’t think terribly of it,” Mrunal begs. “The maharani was an exceptionally kind woman, who spared our mothers -mere common servants-, and raised us as her own. She passed from complications when birthing Her Highness, and so to honor her memory, we happily serve the child she worked so hard to bear.”

I take a sip from the jug, savoring the cool water inside before I say, “So long as you are happy, I’ve no right to complain. Even so, it saddens me that you cannot have the kind of relationship with Raja, that I do with my siblings.”

“It’s for the best,” the man beside Mrunal says, falling onto his back with arms crossed beneath his neck. “If we showed any interest in power or titles, it’d put Her Highness in danger. Greedy nobles might try to bribe us into turning on her.”

“Or if something happened to the yuvaraja, His Majesty would force Her Highness to try again for a son,” Mrunal adds, his tone darkened. “She barely survived giving birth, once. Many would assume her death imminent, and begin plotting to take advantage of whichever of us they think best suited to become a puppet maharaja.”

“Helios will not quietly accept that such threats exist in your palace,” I say. “He will never bow to such dire norms.”

“There is nothing he can do about it,” Mrunal tries, but I shake my head.

“If Helios takes Dasharatha as his child, then he will raise him with respect for Indrira, and the heart of a Son of Kemet. He will instill a value for safety and happiness in your next leader.”

“He may give it his best shot, but change will not come easily.”

“Even so-”

‘Run,’ a soft voice whispers, stilling my tongue. ‘Before it reaches you! You must flee to a place where birds nest, for birds are its bitter enemies.’

“Selene?” Juba asks, as I scramble to my feet. 

“Something is coming,” I say, peering into the dark, sandy hills around us. “We must move—now. To a place where birds fly.”

“Birds?” Mrunal asks, standing. “At this time of night? They’ll all be bedded down on high trees or rocks.”

“Why birds?” Juba asks, coming up on my right. “What is out there that might fear such creatures?”

Whispers rise behind us, and when I look to Mrunal, he has paled. Hands trembling at his sides, he whirls toward his brothers. “Rouse the camels. Forget the fire and anything set upon the sand. We have to move—quickly! Before it arrives!”

“What is it?” Juba demands.

“That would be me,” a soft voice hisses in my ear.

I gasp, throwing myself forward. At the same time, Juba rips his sickle from his belt and takes aim at a strange figure.

Tall, fiercely tall, with long black hair and golden skin, a man smirks down at us. From his lips, the forked tongue of a serpent flicks out and back, and his bronze eyes are split by long, thin pupils. With a soft huff, the man tips to the side…and vanishes.

“So this is the mortal who dared defy the stars? How disappointing,” he hisses, appearing at my right.

Stretched out on his side, supported by one arm and with cheek in hand, the man laughs as I jerk myself backwards and fall. Clawing at the sand, desperate to rise, I pause at the feel of something smooth and cold against my knee.

A glance back steals my breath, for I have struck not the legs I expect, but a serpent’s tail of ebony scales—thick as a grown tree’s trunk!

“What are you?” I gasp, daring to look at the man—no, the beast. “Are you a gorgon?”

His tongue flicks out and back. “I am a servant of the spirits,” he replies, slowly parting his lips to reveal two long, deadly fangs dripping with a steaming, purple liquid. “You dared to oppose the great forces of this world. For that, you will pay with your-”

“Selene, duck!” Juba shouts.

I fall to the side, crossing both arms over my head. A bright light passes over me, striking the serpent with a splash and thunk. It hisses, screeching out the most inhuman sound as its tail begins thrashing in great, heaving flops.

“Selene!” Juba shouts, drawing my eyes.

Bent over the tail, face red from the struggle to cling on, he reaches a hand out to me. I take it with both of mine, tugging until I find myself pressed tightly to Juba’s chest.

“Come on!” Mrunal calls, beckoning us to where he sits astride a camel. At his sides, his brothers uncork jugs and launch them at the serpent. They explode upon impact.

“What are they doing?” I ask, moving with Juba as he breaks into a run.

“It’s alcohol,” he says, dropping his sickle to grasp my waist. Hefting me up, Juba’s hands are replaced by Mrunal’s arms, which sloppily drop me in the space behind him.

“The flames won’t last long against a naga,” Mrunal says, at the same time that Juba pulls himself up behind me. “Why would it attack you, Selene? Naga have almost always been known as benevolent servants to the spirits.”

“It’s because the spirits have turned against her,” Juba says, wrapping an arm around my waist. “Don’t worry about the specifics. Just know that many fear Selene’s blessing, and will stop at nothing to keep her from fulfilling the task bestowed upon her by the spirit of the moon.”

Craning his neck back, Mrunal spares me a wide-eyed glance. I know I appear as so small, in spite of my royal title, for I am just a girl who is barely into her adulthood. That I carry such powers as to challenge the spirits, must seem unbelievable.

Whatever he might think, Mrunal does not ask any questions. Kicking his feet, he spurs the camel into a run.

At a roaring hiss I glance back to watch as the hair falls from the creature’s head, and it morphs into the wide panes of a cobra face. Seeming uninterested in Mrunal’s brothers, the beast swings its tail with a wild gust that extinguishes the small flame clinging to its scales.

A second swing sends the camels go flying, disbursed out and away from the serpent. And with its path clear, the creature moves, slithering after us fast as a falling star.

“We don’t even know where we’re going!” Juba shouts, plucking a white ball from his belt. Handing it to me he says, “Hold this and, when I say to, throw it toward the naga.”

I nod, curious as to what I hold. From my visions I recall Juba making such balls a time or two, but I’d never asked him what they were.

Digging into his pocket, Juba pulls out two small stones. Striking them together over the ball in my hands, he curses when a spark sputters and dies. With his second try, it catches, instantly seeping toward the ball’s center.

I flinch at the heart searing close to my palms, and the strong, putrid stench that begins to waft with its brown smoke.

“Now!” Juba shout, and I toss the ball behind us. Turning to look back, to see if I have struck my target, I stop short as Juba presses his hand over my nose and mouth.

“Hold your breath,” he commands. “That ball will slow it down, but only for a little while. In the meantime, we must come up with a plan.”

“What plan can be made?” Mrunal chokes out. “Naga are relentless. There is nowhere to run!”

‘Ride toward the cliffs,’ a spirit voice whispers. ‘Find the water. Find me.’

“The cliffs,” I say, unsure where they might be. “The spirits claim them to be a safe place.”

“The same spirits that sent the naga after you?”

“Trust her,” Juba says. “And if you can’t, then step down and let me take the reins. I’ll-”

“I swore an oath to protect her,” Mrunal snaps. “I will do whatever it takes to keep my word.”

“Get back here you wretch!” the serpent roars. “Get back here!”

Ignoring the beast, Mrunal pushes onward, driving the camel as hard as he can. Flying across the sands, kicking up a cloud of dust in our wake, we ride until a low rumble fills the air.

Jerking to a sudden stop, Mrunal glances down at our right. I look as well, both excited and devastated by the sight of a rushing river far, far below.

“Are there birds here?” Juba asks, throwing an arm up to shield us as a rush of air sends the camel swaying.

“And what is this?” a deep voice bellows. “You dare come unto my domain? How bold.”

“What now?” I whisper, peeking up at a massive, striking bird of deep blue. Gaze trailing its wide wings, my stomach drops at the sight of a tanned human face where its beak should be.

Dark eyes fixed on me, the creature scowls, until its attention is drawn beyond us. Whatever is there changes the scowl to a sneer.

“They’re mine!” the serpent hisses, its voice rapidly drawing nearer.

“You’re dead,” the bird-creature replies, swooping over us with black claws extended.

“A naga and a byangoma,” Mrunal whispers, shaking his head. “How can we survive both of them? It’s impossible!”

“It’s not,” I say, forcing myself to look back toward the river. “They are after me, alone. Let me down, Mrunal, and I will draw them away.”

“Never,” Juba says, sliding down just seconds after me. “Selene!”

“The spirit of the sea called out to me. He bid me to find water, and so I have.”

“You intend to jump down there?” Juba’s eyes go wide. “You’ll die!”

“We will all die if I stay here,” I argue, looking to Mrunal. “I have faith that the spirits who favor me, will lead me back to you. So go. Seek your brothers and travel onward toward the North Desert. I will find you.”

“Selene,” Mrunal whispers, flinching against another strong gust of wind.

“We will find them,” Juba corrects, wrapping his arms around me. “Wherever you go, I will follow.”

“But-”

“Save your breath for the fall, for it will be wasted upon trying to dissuade me.”

I know he speaks the truth, and so I take a deep breath. Praying that we shall survive, praying that my siblings will live on if we don’t, I nod.

“Mrunal, in the event that, for whatever reason, we do not meet again in the dessert, pass on a message to the maharaja for me,” I beg. “Tell him that I followed the guide of the spirits, and so commanded you to leave me behind. Neither you nor your brothers, are to be punished for this decision. I will answer for it, when I stand before the maharaja once again.”

And before Mrunal can say anything, before I can second guess myself, with a simple side-step Juba and I lean to the right. Tensed but sure, together we fall into the abyss.

***