Naamah's Curse - Jacqueline Carey [227]
He gaped at her, shocked by her words. Beyond the circle of guards, folk crowded close in an attempt to witness the exchange.
Amrita gestured to Hasan Dar. “Stand down, and let them hear this.”
“Highness…” he protested.
She raised her hand again, and he obeyed. The guards spread out, giving the spectators an opportunity to draw closer. Unobtrusively, Bao unslung his staff and took a defensive pose at the Rani’s left shoulder. I stepped out of the palanquin and stood at her other side, ready to shield her at need.
A memory teased at my thoughts, the memory of Snow Tiger attempting in vain to calm the crowd who had come to rescue her, the dragon’s voice whispering in my mind. Lend her your gift, he had said. Make a gateway.
It had worked then. Without pausing to wonder, I attempted it now, calling the twilight. Instead of breathing it out, I poured it into Amrita, my fingers brushing her bare arm.
The air around her brightened visibly, drawing soft gasps from the crowd. Amrita gave me a brief, perplexed glance, and I nodded at her in silent encouragement.
The Rani took a deep breath, steepling her fingers in the soothing mudra that eased conflict. “Listen, then, to what I say to this potter’s son, for it holds true for each and every one of you.” She gazed at the boy, and he flushed beneath her shining regard. “You are not lessened by this change, young one. Is your lot in life the worse because someone else is lifted out of misery?” She shook her head. “No. The gods reward greatness of heart, not meanness of spirit. Do not seek to look at those below you and gloat. Look at those above you and aspire. I mean to build schools, good schools. If you wish to be a potter like your father, well and good. It is an honorable profession. If you wish to learn another trade, you may. You may become a merchant, or a builder of temples, or a soldier in my guard. I am placing your kharma in your own two hands. Is it truly a change you despise?”
Dev fell to his knees. “No.”
“Good.” She touched his hair. “So do not throw any more rotten onions at me, eh?”
He shook his head. “I won’t.”
The crowd let out a collective sigh, adoring her once more; and while their response was due in some small part to the sparkle of magic I’d lent her, mostly it was due to Amrita herself, her courage and her unfailing kindness.
The Rani Amrita smiled at the crowd. “I thank you for your patience, and for listening.” Pressing her palms together, she bowed deeply to her people. “May all the gods look kindly on you.”
With that, she returned to her palanquin, and I joined her, letting go my grip on the twilight. The crowds parted for us, Bao and Hasan Dar and the guards resuming their protective positions.
“That was most beautifully said, my lady,” I said to her. “I do believe you swayed their hearts.”
Amrita gave me a sidelong glance. “I do believe you gave me some assistance, dear one. I felt the touch of your magic.”
I smiled. “Only a very little bit. A tiny push to help move change along. After all, I am not nearly as dangerous as Kamadeva’s diamond.”
“No?” She laughed, a merry, ringing sound that gladdened my heart, and the hearts of all who heard her. “I am not so very sure of that, Moirin,” she said affectionately. “But I am grateful nonetheless.”
EIGHTY
After the incident with the onion-throwing and the Rani Amrita’s resounding response, the mood in Bhaktipur was calmer.
The protesting priests made one last attempt at insurrection, covertly contacting Prince Ravindra in the hopes that he would be willing to consider a coup against his mother. Clever Ravindra waited for all of those in league to show their hands before rebuffing them in a passionate public address.
“Shall I dishonor my beloved mother,