Wind and sun beat upon Kalindi's face as she stood braced against the ship's railing, watching the flames melt Vernon's ship into a simmering mess of black tar as they pulled further and further away. In another hour, perhaps less, the ships would dock at Naino's port, and the war would begin. Vernon's death may have guaranteed the survival of the world, but it had done nothing to guarantee its peace.
That, they would have to figure out on their own.
Arms slid around Kalindi's waist, a chin tucked over her shoulder. She would have jolted, if it weren't Jem.
Kalindi watched the ripples the boat's propellors cut across the Muwa River's surface for another moment. Then she said, slowly, "What are you doing?"
"Your anxiousness was radiating at me like a second sun," Jem groaned. "I came to fix that."
Kalindi sighed. "How do you plan to do that?"
"What do you mean? I'm fixing it right now."
"Hugging me is not going to stop two city-states from waging war on each other."
A pause. "No. But it is making you feel at least marginally better about the situation, is it not?"
"It is," Kalindi said with a reluctant nod, patting Jem's hands. "How is Chike? Sorin?"
"The catboy's bleeding has slowed, so he seems to be fine for now," Jem said, glancing further down the bow, where the others were gathered in a loose huddle. She released Kalindi, coming around to stand beside her instead. "And Chike's warmed up a bit. He's...conscious, at least."
There was a waver in Jem's voice that, once upon a time, would've skipped Kalindi's mind entirely. But she had spent the last few weeks studying Jem—sometimes consciously, often subconsciously—learning her every mannerism and idiosyncrasy, committing them to her memory, reliving them in her dreams. She knew her. Sometimes so well it scared her.
"Tell me," she said, and when Jem just looked at her, confused, she reiterated: "There is something you're not saying. I want you to tell me."
Jem ducked her head. "Several of his fingers are discolored. Aldric pointed it out—said a lot of foreigners passing through the Brassal Mountains in Meathe get it when they're not aptly prepared."
Kalindi sucked in a long breath. "Frostbite."
A brief moment of solemn silence passed between the two women, until Jem exhaled, resting her chin in the curve of her palm and leaning her weight against the railing. "None of us have mentioned it to him. I don't think now is the time."
"He'll realize eventually."
"Let him realize it once he doesn't have to worry about about the Queen wanting him and a bunch of his countrymen obliterated."
Fair enough. "Jem," Kalindi said, and Jem turned towards her, eyebrow lifted above her eyepatch. "How did you do it? Back in the mess hall. How did you know the name of that man's friend?"
"Oh, that?" Jem shrugged. "It was an educated guess."
"A—" Kalindi's mouth fell open; she gripped the railing so hard her knuckles paled. "A guess?"
"When he was lugging me to the mess hall, I noticed a nice leather watch around his wrist. None of the other soldiers were wearing any notable jewelry or watches, so I figured it had to be significant," Jem said, still with her hand against her mouth, speaking through her fingers. "He turned his hand, and I saw the engraving: To Ruka, from Jimoh. So I made a guess."
"But you could've been wrong."
"Yes, I know. They could've been brothers, or two hopelessly romantic lovers for all I knew," Jem said, waving a flippant hand. She raised her head, meeting the princess's eyes squarely. "That is the very nature of a guess, Kali, educated or not. You might be wrong, of course, but you try anyway, and sometimes it pays off."
Kalindi looked at her then, really looked: this true tour de force of a person, a girl who had stared down wall after wall of what should've been immediate defeat, and still came out on the other side with a smile on her face. Kalindi did not understand her. Not at all. But that, she thought, was the beauty of Jem Okiro.
She brushed a finger below Jem's chin, tipping her head up. Jem's face flushed as if on command. "Kali, what are you—oh."
Kalindi kissed her, the gesture subtle but endlessly passionate, as if she were breathing her in, savoring every last bite of her.
When Kalindi pulled back again, Jem's face was so red she almost looked feverish. She stammered, "What was that for?"
Kalindi blinked. "Did you not like it?"
"Fuck no. That is not the case at all. It was fantastic. It was just—" Jem narrowed her eyes dramatically. "Suspicious."
Kalindi rolled her eyes, a smirk playing at her lips. "I was rewarding you for your help."
"My help?"
"It is a guess," Kalindi said, turning her gaze out towards the water again, "but I think know how to end this war."
They were exhausted, bleeding, broken—but not yet beaten. And there was one last task to complete.
By the time the warships met the Nainoan shoreline—a craggy stretch of black granite and deep emerald moors, the towers of the inner city just barely visible through a dense fog—the sun was setting. Kalindi eyed the Nainoan soldiers swarming the coast, each of them clad in the fiery maroon hue customary of battle.
Jem grabbed her shoulder. Her eyepatch was lifted, and she was pointing, wide-eyed, at a close-knit throng of people nearer in towards the base of the cliff. "There," she said, squinting her injured eye. "I can just make her out."
And there she was indeed. Kalindi's mother, the Queen of Naino, perched high on a wooden pedestal. The angelic Royal Guard surrounded her, a beam of clementine-colored sunlight glinted off the silver plates of her armor.
The ships' engines died, disembarking ramps slamming into the sand.
Kalindi turned back to her friends, bending, gathering Vernon's frayed and bloodstained tapestry in her arms. Chike, Aldric, Sorin, and Zuri all watched her in a stunned sort of quiet, as if they were afraid to ask just what she was doing.
"Kalindi," Zuri said at last. Blood smeared across her face, a bruise forming on her cheek, but still she stood, although her legs wobbled. "Are you sure—"
She laid a hand on Zuri's quivering shoulder, and Zuri went quiet. "You have done more than enough," said the princess, inclining her head. "Let me at least take care of this."
Zuri swallowed, hesitant, but nodded. She shrank back, lingering at Sorin's side.
"I'm coming with you," Jem announced with a huff, so dramatically that Kalindi could have laughed. "You can't expect me to wait up here with these losers."
"Ow," Aldric said, with an exaggerated glare. Jem just beamed at him.
"Of course," said Kalindi, reaching for Jem's hand. "I need someone to watch my back, after all."
She could already hear the thundering of thousands of soldier's boots, mingling with hostile shouts flung towards the sky. Time was running out.
Squeezing Jem's hand, she tuned in to the energy that constantly hummed beneath the ground and at once beneath her skin, grabbing hold of it, pulling it free. Their feet lifted from the ship's deck, and for a moment they hovered, weightless—Jem let out a shout equal parts terror and glee—before Kalindi angled them towards the shore.
It was the first time in weeks that Kalindi's feet had graced familiar ground, and she expected it to feel more celebratory somehow, after as long a journey as hers. Instead, all she felt was a profound, unshakeable tiredness, as if she were much older than she was.
The beach bristled with tension, the animosity brewing between the two sides—a sea of black rising to meet a sea of red—cold enough to prick goosebumps across Kalindi's skin like a late autumn wind. Her eyes settled on the pedestal at the back of the crowd, the only still thing among the writhing melee.
There was no way around. They would have to make their way through.
"Jem," Kalindi started, but she was already on it, kicking in the knees of the soldier nearest her and yanking his sword from where it was strapped across his back. Kalindi watched with a tinge of pride as Jem twisted her wrist around, weighing the sword's weight in her palm. Another soldier cursed and rushed at her, but she arced the sword just inches from his throat, and he went still.
Jem grinned, meeting Kalindi's eyes. "After you, Your Highness."
Kalindi smiled. If she could, she would have kissed her a million times over right then.
Bundling the tapestry under one arm, Kalindi tossed up the other, brushing it aside as if she were parting the sea. A wave of flailing soldiers tumbled over each other, flying to the side. She arced her arm the other way, sweeping another crowd of soldier's feet up from under them. The path to her mother's makeshift throne was clear, the damp, pale green sod like a blazoned trail to victory.
She strode forward, every step immersing her boots deeper in the mud, the breeze off the river blowing at her back, nearly pushing her forward. From her seat, the Queen watched her daughter approach with a cold, distant apathy, her eyes as flat and black as coal. The look on her mother's face should have jarred her, should have tugged at some familial string in her heart, but Kalindi was far too wise to be surprised.
The Royal Guard snapped to attention, hands reaching for their swords.
"Don't," said the Queen. "She'll just toss you away like the others. Stand down."
A murmur of concern passed between the white-clad men, mud already staining the hems of their pants, but they backed away.
"Mother," said Kalindi, her voice steady, but mocking. "You don't look too happy to see me. My, I can't imagine at all why that would be. Is this not the touching reunion you imagined?"
"Insolent girl," spat the Queen, sitting up straighter. Even among the dull moors she shone like an authentic jewel, everything about her polished: her skin, her hair, her posture. It sickened Kalindi to her core. "You killed Enzi."
"How tragic for you," said Kalindi with a smirk. "Perhaps you should've sent someone who would've gotten the job done."
The Queen's eyes lit, just slightly: an ember settling into dry grass. Kalindi had the unsettling thought that if there were not so many onlookers—soldiers on both sides frozen, watching, some of them still groveling in the dirt where Kalindi had tossed them—the Queen would try to kill them both.
"What," said her mother, "do you want?"
Kalindi and Jem shared a knowing glance. Then, nodding at Jem, Kalindi hoisted up the tapestry, letting it fully unravel before she tossed it at the feet of the pedestal. The Royal Guard let out audible breaths of surprise, stepping away as if she'd just tossed a bomb at their feet.
"Only to tell you your mission was a success," Kalindi said. "We found Vernon Schmitt, and we killed him. This frayed piece of wool in front of you is all that's left of him now."
A hesitant smile stretched the Queen's face thin, a faint twitch in one eye. "I don't recall ever asking you to get rid of Schmitt."
"And let you keep his power all to yourself?" Kalindi said, and shook her head. She turned, facing the crowd of soldiers instead. At her side, Jem bristled, grip tightening on her sword. "This war has all been planned, do you understand? The Queen of Naino cares not for the Bisagi District alone; her greed passes greater bounds. She wants to own all of Kiro, and she'll stop at nothing to reach that goal. Even if it means trying to have her own daughter killed."
The Nainoan soldiers murmured with obvious discomfort; even the Sinjesis looked visibly unsure.
"I killed Enzi?" Kalindi's voice rose; she turned, glancing at her mother again. "Only because he was trying to dispose of me first. That way you could point fingers and blame Sinje for my death. Not that you would've mourned me anyway, would you?"
"Enough with the lying, Kalindi," the Queen complained. "This war will not wait any longer. There is no time! We have to fight."
None of the soldiers moved.
Kalindi's lips snuck up into a grin. "Why have I been away from home for so long, Mother? Your only child, sent away to a foreign land with a group of people I've never met before. Everyone here saw for themselves that I've only just come home. What an odd thing to do if you care for me so deeply, don't you think?"
The Queen gripped the handles of her chair in obvious rage. "Kalindi—"
"I know you mourn the ones you lost in Mulaim," said Kalindi, "but I ask you, soldiers, is that an excuse to take even more lives? Are you going to fight this petty war just because you've been told to, or are you going to open your eyes to the fact that she's deceiving you, all of you? You're playing right into her hands."
The soldiers' eyes shifted about, watching each other, watching Kalindi. She could feel it, the knot loosening, and the animosity sweeping away like a bad scent at last clearing from the air. She didn't quite know how, but it was working.
"The city-states of Kiro already share many things," said Kalindi. "A language. A god. A set of values. Why can we not share the Bisagi District, then?"
Kalindi turned to Jem then, motioning at her. Jem's eyebrows quirked with concern, but a moment later she nodded, pressing the sword into Kalindi's hand.
Kalindi stalked up to the pedestal, sword in hand, and this time the Royal Guard let her.
"Now," she said, leveling the blade at her mother's throat, the beginnings of starlight glistening upon it. "A question—truly an order—for you, sweet mother of mine."
The Queen's eyes were burning now, but not with rage. With fear.
"Vernon is dead. You can no longer guarantee you will win this war," whispered Kalindi. "There's more I can tell these soldiers to sway them, but you wouldn't want that, would you?"
The Queen swallowed.
Kalindi smiled. She said one word: "Surrender."
The Queen waited a moment, her gaze steady on Kalindi, like a defendant bracing for the gavel to drop.
At last, she raised a hand. The white flag flew.
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