Naamah's Curse - Jacqueline Carey [204]
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.”
“It’s over,” I said quietly. “Give the diamond to the Rani Amrita.”
Jagrati’s narrow nostrils flared. “Come and take it, little Rani,” she said to Amrita. “Come, unfasten it with your own hands, daughter of privilege! Or do you fear to be polluted by the touch of my skin?”
“No, Jagrati.” My lady Amrita lowered her hands, her voice grave. She took a step forward. “I do not.”
For the third time in two encounters, Jagrati recoiled violently from the Rani. Her hands went to the nape of her neck, working frantically at a clasp. Loosing the collar of gold filigree that held Kamadeva’s black diamond, she hurled it at Amrita’s feet. “Take it, then, damn you! Take it!”
Bowing her head, Amrita stooped to retrieve the necklace…
… and everything changed.
SEVENTY-TWO
The stone floor of the throne room of Kurugiri was hard beneath my knees, evoking a distant memory of scrubbing tiles in the temple of Riva.
Thinking it was odd that she seemed so tall, I gazed upward at my lady Amrita.
Upward? Yes, upward.
Taking a deep breath, I realized that I’d released the twilight and gone to my knees without thinking when Amrita picked up the necklace with Kamadeva’s diamond in it. My yew-wood bow and arrow lay on the floor before me like an offering.
I was not alone.
Everyone, everyone in the throne room capable of kneeling was doing so—save for the Spider Queen Jagrati. And even as I thought it, Jagrati