49. Zendaya

Chapter 49

Zendaya

W hen my head pierces through the surface of the Mahananda, crown-first, I'm met with layered silence. It surges against my skin in waves shot through with scorching scorn, balmy awe, and cool caution.

"Sumaca," Abrax murmurs. He must've shouldered past the thin crowd while I was in the Mahananda because he stands right behind Agrippina, whose eyes shimmer like the twinkling talons and beaks of the Crows swerving over Shabbe.

My guard drops onto one knee and begins to bend his head, but then his gaze trawls the courtyard and he bellows, "Kneel for our queen."

Though every guard heeds his command, out of the Akwale, only Tamar prostrates herself. The others, including Soorya the healer, huddle around Malka's supine form. Is the immortal sorceress dead?

Yes, Agrippina says. Struck dead by the Mahananda. Her voice lilts over the words.

I shouldn't be surprised by the power the Mahananda can exert on the living, but it's still astonishing. I do wonder why it didn't punish Priya after she disrespected its orders. Unless she didn't? Perhaps Meriam misheard and the Mahananda never planned on lifting the Crows' immortality?

Questions for tomorrow.

I finally step over the hardened surface that reflects the stars and the murder of Crows, that reflects me and the crown braided into my pink locks. "I encourage those of you who do not want me as their ruler to leave Shabbe."

"You're kicking us out of our homeland, Naaga?" Aori snarls.

"Prostrate yourselves, sisters. The Mahananda chose her to guide us," Tamar whispers.

None do.

"Come with us, Tamar," Aza implores, holding Soorya's arm.

Tamar looks at them, then at me, then at Malka's bloodless body, and then she shakes her head, splashing the stone beneath her with the tears coursing over her deep-brown cheeks. "I trust the Mahananda."

"Day!" Asha erupts onto the courtyard, then halts beneath the canopy of honeysuckle that's always in full bloom. Her eyes widen, and then the corners of her mouth wobble around the title that's now mine. " Sumaca ."

"I've tasked my people to spread the news of your rise," Lorcan says. "To Shabbe and beyond."

I nod but don't meet his golden stare. No, I track the retreat of Priya's coven and of Shabbe's healer. I suppose we don't need one now that I can make Serpents. Our tongues best any crystals.

"How many do you suspect will leave, Lore?" I ask as I catch the giant Faerie healer calling out to Soorya. They clasp hands and murmur aggrieved farewells before Aza whisks her out of the courtyard. Did he kneel, I wonder.

"When I returned to power"—my fellow monarch grows out his talons and drums them against his leather-cloaked thigh—"there was a mass exodus of pure-blooded Faeries."

My breath hitches. "Shabbe's so much less diverse than Luce that if there's a mass exodus of pureblooded Shabbins, I'll have only the serpents in the Sahklare to rule over."

Fallon takes one of my hands and squeezes it. "Mádhi, many will stay. Just look around you."

"They're not staying for me; they stay because they fear the Mahananda," I murmur, tracing the shape of Malka's body with my gaze, while giving my daughter's fingers a squeeze, touched by her enduring support.

"Some, but not all," Lorcan says. "When I rose out of the Cauldron seven centuries ago, your great-grandmother told me that a ruler should never endeavor to please; only to protect and improve. Whatever you do, Daya, do not expend energy on trying to shepherd those who left back into your queendom. Concentrate on those who stayed."

I bob my head, storing his advice. "I know nothing about ruling."

"You're in luck. I've a general to lend you." Lorcan levels a smile on the male who warms one side of my body. "He's well-versed in politics. And yes, I'm aware that he's passably agreeable on good days, but you're in need of a fount of knowledge not a bucket of sunshine."

"I know plenty about generaling, too, Day," Agrippina says as she marches toward us. Unless you want Cathal to stay?

Enzo crosses his arms and stammers something in Lucin that makes Lorcan cant his head, Cathal scowl, Agrippina smirk, and Fallon bite her lip. What did you tell them?

When he doesn't answer, I ask Agrippina who's only too happy to convey his words: He just asked Lorcan whether he should really be putting his general on loan considering the other is on the run. Seaweed's got bigger balls than I gave him credit for.

Agrippina, I chide her.

What? He does. And that's a good thing. Her eyes roll over my crown. Fucking queen, Day. Your dream came true.

It wasn't my dream.

Right. She slides her lips together. You didn't get your memories back?

I didn't ask the Mahananda for them.

Will you?

I side-eye the Crow muttering something to Lorcan. I don't know that I want to remember all that I lost.

Maybe it can give you everything back?

He has a new mate, Agrippina.

She frowns. Says who?

He told me himself.

Her frown deepens. And Fallon confirmed it?

I'm not going to ask my daughter for confirmation. Besides, why would he invent a mate?

Because bruised egos make idiots out of men. And women, she adds.

"This decision concerns only my parents," Fallon suddenly says. "How about we let them decide whether they want to work together?" And then she's looping her arm through Agrippina's and tugging her away.

When I glance across the Mahananda, I find Enzo following in their steps. Enzo, are you all right? My mother told me she stunned you.

Without glancing over his shoulder, he gives me a thumb's up and though I've never been on the receiving end of a middle finger, it feels a little like one.

It's not, he says.

"Daya, if you need anything, you know where I lurk." Lorcan inclines his head before breaking into his five crows and swirling to the heavens.

Though Cathal and I aren't alone in the courtyard, his magnetic stare makes me feel like we're the only two people left in the world.

"Do you want—do you want my counsel?" Though his tone's flat and the lines of his body as rigid as ever, his fractured speech betrays his nonchalance.

"I'd be glad for your guidance." I add a smile that I hope will relax him. "Can the Siorkahd spare you until I constitute a new Akwale?"

His vambraces creak as the knot of his folded arms tautens. "Yes."

"Even if it takes months?"

"Yes."

"Then I'll provide accommodations for you and your mate."

He suddenly switches to Crow to mutter, " Cruaih ."

My nails bite into my palms. "If you think it'll make her miserable to move to Shabbe, then maybe you should reconsider?—"

"That's her name. Cruaih ."

"Misery?" My fingers slacken before bunching back into fists. Not only does a name make her real, but one of Crow origin makes her one of his people. "Perhaps moving to Shabbe will make her miserable. How about before giving me a definitive answer, you discuss?—"

"She'll be fine."

His lack of consideration doesn't assuage my jealousy, but it does make me feel a twinge of empathy for this subjugated woman who gets no say in the matter.

"All right, then. I will see you in the morning?"

Cathal scans the courtyard. "Who will stay with you tonight?"

I tilt my head. "What do you mean?"

"Abrax is useless; Asha, less so, I suppose. Your Serpents are…do they have blood magic now as well?"

"Are you worried someone will spring an attack on me during the night?"

"Tensions are high, so yes, I do worry about retaliation. Especially considering your fellow female Shabbins can slip through walls unnoticed. You'll need to ward your wing of the castle."

"I'm immortal, Cathal."

"So was Priya. So was that one." He nods to the dead sorceress whose body still blights the sunstone.

"I'll paint wards to keep the Shabbins out of my bedchamber. Besides, I don't intend to sleep." Even if I'd wanted to, I couldn't. Not in my present state, not with my insides sizzling as though I'd swallowed a lightning bolt.

"I'll be back before sunrise."

Before I can tell the Crow not to rouse his poor mate in the middle of the night, he melts into shadows and rises to the heavens in feathers. Suddenly he swoops back down, snatches Malka's body, and dumps her onto the Mahananda. The second her body vanishes, he soars back up, his powerful wings stirring the stars until he becomes one with the night.

"What did he decide?" Fallon's query carries my attention down to her.

"To come back and aid me." Before my heart can run away with my reason, I remind myself that he's only returning for diplomatic reasons. "Apparently, Cruaih won't mind." Though I don't formulate this as a question, I wait with bated breath for Fallon to swallow my lure and tell me all about this Cruaih.

"She won't." Fallon holds my stare…and holds it, and then she blinks hard and looks down at the bloody sigils the Akwale left behind. "I'll help you lift their spells."

Though I wish she'd told me more about Cruaih, I do not speak her name again. I will meet her soon enough.

And I do. And she is nothing like I expect.