I Shall Rewrite the Stars

Chapter 12

***

I blink fast, my heavy lids desperate to close. Much as I want to stay awake and convince Raja, my body is giving out.

My mind is giving out.

Juba notices first.

“Wait until morning,” he says. “You know the effects of Lycoctonum, and whatever power Helios used, it didn’t spare Selene her exhaustion. She needs rest.”

“Are you her husband?” Raja demands.

Juba’s face goes so red, even I can faintly make out the hue. “No.”

“Her brother or father?”

He bites out a “No.”

Raja’s hands settle on her hips. “Are you blessed?”

“No.”

“Then you are of no consequence to me, as this inquisition has nothing to do with you.”

I feel a tremor rip through Juba—can sense his indignation. But this isn’t the time to risk losing tempers. Raja is too smart, too powerful within these lands, and I am too tired to mediate.

“Take my brother back to camp,” I tell Juba. “I will stay here with Raja until we’ve settled this matter.”

“Your words are slurring,” Juba scoffs, then says just loud enough for me to hear. “I meant what I said about caring for your life. I know I should leave, should quit this hopeless quest and run. But…”

“I understand, but right now I need you to have faith in me.”

“You’re too honest for me to question. She’s not.”

“Go,” Raja commands, seemingly having lost her patience.

Dropping down beside us, she tugs me out of Juba’s arms and into the space between them with ease. I hadn’t thought her to be so strong…or maybe I’ve just become lighter. The last week has been so hard…

“Selene,” Juba tries, baring his teeth when Raja flicks one hand at him, and presses my cheek to her shoulder with the other.

“I am not cowardly enough to attack a half-conscious woman,” she insists. “Take Helios and be gone. I’ll not ask again.”

Juba reaches for his side, where his sickle lies, then hesitates and stands. With his unusual vision he finds Helios without issue, and makes quick work of hefting him across his back.

“I’ll return at dawn,” he says.

“Two hours after,” Raja replies, her voice a whisper as my eyes fall shut. “We will need time to…”

I fall into a peaceful, empty darkness not unlike the one I’d woken from. No time at all seems to pass within it, but when it lifts and I open my eyes again, the world has lightened beneath the first warm rays of the morning sun.

I yawn, feeling far better than I had even in spite of my still-throbbing leg. A brush from the back of my hand wipes the sleep from my eyes, just as I notice the hand gently stroking my hair.

“I wonder if I’ve ever slept as peacefully as you did,” Raja says from above me, and I realize that at some point, my head found a spot in her lap.

“Is your father’s court so dangerous, you couldn’t sleep well there?” I ask, pushing myself upright.

Raja hums, her gaze focused on some distant thing beyond the bamboo. “My father’s court is vicious, as it was under his father, and his father. The maharaja rules through fear and respect, and only the most daring or foolish attempt to challenge him. Naturally, attacking his children is an easier means to test him for weaknesses. I have, thus far, survived every attempt. My mother and husband however, were not so fortunate.”

I set my hand over hers. “I understand such losses. They are…unspeakably painful.”

Raja is quiet a moment, then says, “I love my father, my people, and this empire. I believe in Jambudvīpa, however brutal she can be, and would lay my life down for her should the demand arise. It’s because of these things that I’ve learned to harden my heart and be cautious. Yet here you are, so similar to me in so many ways, and still so…different. Why is that?”

Several potential answers come to mind. “Kemet is the only kingdom on the southern frontier lands, and as such, we’d little to fear from outside threats. My parents were fiercely intelligent and powerful, quick to be rid of any who stood against them, and much beloved by our people. Until Roma attacked, I’d nothing to fear but disappointing them.”

“Your parents were strong, yet they raised weak children?”

“Be merciful in your opinion of my siblings. They’re still so young and untried. Given time, they’ll prove themselves better than they’ve appeared until now.”

“You speak as though you’re undeserving of such leniency.”

“I am,” I whisper. “If this were my first time living such horrors, it would be different. But it’s not, and anytime I think of how greatly I’ve messed up thus far, I can’t help but wish that someone else had been given a second chance instead.”

When I look at Raja there is no judgement in her gaze, only curiosity and expectation.

And so I tell her the truth of my regression. I tell her how I tried and failed to persuade my parents, how I let the one person who truly believed me be spirited away by his soon-to-be murderer, and how afraid I am to face the first ally necessary for me to rewrite fate.

“You’ve been through all that, and still took my hand so easily?” Raja asks, when I’ve finally finished. “I just don’t understand.”

“I think it’s because I suffered so much,” I say, the truth bitter on my tongue. “My body might have just turned eighteen, but my mind and soul carry six more years of pain and sadness. Mentally, I am so used to daggers in every hand that when you offered an empty palm, I couldn’t help seeing it as an incredible act of kindness.”

“I’ve been upfront about my hidden daggers.”

“My tormentors were not, and so I still feel grateful toward you, Raja. You’ve spoken to and of me as an equal, your reservations make perfect sense, and your friendship has kept my hopes high in the face of despair. However foolish it might be, when it comes to you, I just can’t bring myself to feel afraid.”

A lovely pink flushes Raja’s cheeks. “Friends?” she whispers, and looks away as a shadow crosses her eyes. “I’ve never had a friend before. It’s too dangerous, both for me and all else. You’d do well to change your mind.”

“But I won’t,” I say, smiling when she peeks toward me. “Even if Kemet has fallen, I know that Roma hasn’t finished with the world. They’ll come for Jambudvīpa next, and then Brigantia—and then all the rest. Alone we will fall, but if the sovereigns of the world take each other’s empty palms and fight together, then there’s still a chance we can defeat Gustavian once and for all.”

“Alliances are difficult enough to maintain in peacetime, and now you seek to unite the world when you’ve not a coin, soldier, or ally to your name.” Raja grins. “It seems that suffering has left you a dreamer.”

“My dreams were one of the few things Gustavian couldn’t take from me, so I’d have to agree.”

“It seems he couldn’t take your heart, either.”

“I...don’t know what you mean.” She raises a brow and I feel my cheeks warm. “Have I been obvious?”

“Didn’t Juba tell you so, just before I made my presence known?” Raja teases, her tone slowly sobering. “You are still a rajkumari in this life, and he is a powerless runaway. If you want my honest advice, you should forget whatever existed between the two of you before.”

“I don’t care about our differences.”

“Be that as it may, what you need most right now are the very gold, soldiers, and allies previously mentioned. I’ve no brothers or uncles for my father to offer you, but other kingdoms do.”

“I—” I hadn’t considered how my marriage prospects are still valuable in this life, as the thought of any husband but Juba just seems so…impossible.

“I’m not saying any of this lightly,” Raja insists. “I was fourteen when I was married to a courtier twice my age, and we both understood the urgency to produce an heir to secure the throne. Giving birth nearly stole my life, protecting my birthing chamber cost my husband his. And now, even my son might…” She takes a deep breath. “Regardless, I have to fight for him; for my bloodline. Even if it costs my heart, body, or life—nothing is too high a price.”

“You’re saying that my hand in marriage might win my family an ally, if my words fail?”

“When, not if.”

There was such a long time when the idea wouldn’t have bothered me. I’d always assumed I would choose a husband and we would serve Kemet together, after all. But…but…

I raise a hand to my chest, clenching over my heart. “But I love him.”

“Selene—”

“I swore an oath before all the great spirits and the world that I would be faithful to him in—”

“A previous life.”

“And all others that might follow,” I cry. “I know my duties—I know what I am blood-bound to do for the sake of Kemet. But little more than a week ago, I died!” I shake my head, curling in on myself. “I died Juba’s wife—I died thinking of and longing for him. And I have ached for him ever since!”

“Yet the man I’ve known in this life, while close to you, doesn’t remember your oaths or that bond,” Raja says.

“But I do.”

However pathetic an argument, it’s all I have. Raja must recognize this, for she heaves a sigh as her arm falls across my shoulders, and she pulls me up to stand.

“I never had the chance to love my husband, and I’m not sure I ever would have,” she says. “But you’ve time before anyone might vie for your hand. Use it to steel your heart so that, when the time does come, you’ll be able to accept your new fate without regrets.”

Talk of fate tugs at me, sending a pulse through the spot on my forehead where the moon crest appeared. Isis said that I am an author of fate, but what does that even mean? I can use my knowledge to affect the course of the future, but that’s hardly the work of an author.

So maybe…maybe I can do more—actually have a say in what is to come. And if I can, then maybe Juba and I can still…

A curt cough forces Raja and I to look back, where we find Juba standing with arms crossed. A tinge of pink dusts his cheeks, and his eyes are rimmed as though he didn’t sleep a wink.

“It’s two hours after dawn, Highness,” he says. “Are we free to continue to Pataliputra?”

“We are,” Raja says, guiding me to stand before him. “Tell me, as Gustavian’s favorite, do you wield any power? Do you have any savings or possessions?”

“How can a human-possession have anything to call his own?”

“Friends, then?”

“I am as worthless as you imagine, Highness,” Juba spits. “I’ve nothing of value save my wits and skill with the sickle.”

“Not once have I found you worthless,” Raja says, sparing me a look before she sets off toward camp.

In the silence she leaves behind, Juba and I look anywhere but at each other. I can’t help wondering if he heard my confession. And if he did, what must he be thinking now? Have I made things awkward between us? Have I jogged his memory of our first lives?

I am near bursting with questions when Juba offers his arm.

“You’re still pale,” he says. “Let me escort you back to the others.”

“Thank you,” I say, my cheeks burning as I take to his side. “I…”

My voice falters, my eyes narrowing on a splotch of white buzzing in the shadow of a bamboo stalk to our right—no, several splotches of white. The longer I stare at them, the more clearly they form into a flock of waving, giggling nymphs.

“Are we in danger?” I ask, to which the nymphs shake their heads. “Must we follow you now?”

The nymphs nod excitedly, and when I look toward Juba, his eyes are wide.

“Are they what guided us out of the city?” he asks.

“One of them, yes.”

“I see. Wait here a moment.”

He pulls his arm free and races off after Raja. Only a few minutes later, Juba returns with our companions in tow. Ptolemy grumbles, rubbing at her tired eyes, whilst Helios drags himself with a pale face and bloodshot gaze.

“You really are favored by the spirits,” Mrunal says, pressing his palms flat against each other as he bows over them—much to the nymphs’ delight.

“That they are,” Raja agrees. “It seems breakfast will have to wait. Where are we headed this time, Selene?”

“I don’t know,” I say, moving to Helios’ side. When I set his arm around my shoulders, he offers a grateful smile.

“We’re hardly fit to help one another right now,” he chuckles.

“We’ll manage somehow.”

“Are we safe to travel slowly?” Raja asks the nymphs, and again they nod. “Then please, lead the way.”

The creatures waste no time darting so far ahead, they’re almost out of sight. Giggling and whispers drift back to us, guiding us through the forest and down the steep slope of a valley. The sun is high when we round the curve of a massive dirt mound, before scuttling across an old rope bridge strung over an angry river.

The day wavers toward twilight when at last the land evens out, and three hulking, gray beasts I have not seen since Cearion’s blessing ceremony appear before us.

Wide ears twitch on either side of their heads, and long trunks extend above their mouths. Tusks jut forth like those of a warthog, and the creatures’ short tails flick side to side as they stand.

“Elephants!” Raja cries, all seriousness lost as she races on ahead. “We’ve found our way home!”

“It had to be elephants,” Mrunal groans. “Of all the beasts.”

“Are they not the same as Kemite elephants?” Helios asks.

“Ours have been known to trample people—or sit on and crush them.” Mrunal heaves a sigh. “Even so, they’re Her Highness’ preferred mode of transportation.”

“Come greet them!” Raja commands, hugging the trunk of the closest elephant.

“How many can ride a single beast?” Juba asks, coming up beside me.

“Two is safest, though three might be alright,” Mrunal replies.

“I’ve spent time with the war elephants in Roma. Assuming you and Raja know how to command them, we’ve three drivers.”

“Her Highness will ask Helios to ride with her, I’m sure.” Mrunal looks from Raja to me. “I can take—”

“Ptolemy,” Juba says, setting his hand on my arm. “Selene will ride with me.”

“Are you sure?” I ask. “I’ve no problem with—”

“I’m positive.”

“…alright then. I’ll ride with you.”

Juba hums, and relaxes his hand. “If all’s decided then let’s get moving. I’d like to be out of the open before nightfall.”

***