The Pirate's Wish

The guard’s eyes widened.

“Do you recognize that name?” Marjani asked. Her voice trembled a little, and I tensed up my arm, ready to grab my sword if anyone made a grab for her.

The guard answered with something that sounded like another name, and this time it was Marjani’s eyes that got wide.

“Really?” she asked. Then she straightened her shoulders and said something I couldn’t catch. The guard responded. I got you and palace and something about time and nothing else. Marjani didn’t look upset though, which was a good sign. Then she said, “Take us to her.”

The guard scowled and gave her this insolent little bow.

Naji frowned. “Was that true?” he asked Marjani in Empire.

“Every word,” she answered in Jokjani. “Don’t speak Empire here.”

Naji glared at her. I wondered how much of that courtship story got related to the guard.

The guard led us through the palace gate and then through a garden laden with flowers and vines and palm fronds, like the royal family thought they could corral the Jokja jungle for their own use. The air smelled sweet and damp, and women in thin silky dresses looked up from their books and paintings as we walked past. All of ’em were pretty the way nobility always is – it’s a prettiness that’s painted on, not in-born, but it still made me nervous, the way they watched us with their polite, silent smiles.

The palace was open-air, the scent of the garden drifting into the room where the soldier left us waiting. “I’ll alert the queen to your presence,” he said to Marjani before he turned on his heel, footsteps echoing in his wake. Naji and me both sat down on the big brocade-covered chairs set up next to the windows. Marjani stayed standing.

“Are they going to arrest you?” I asked.

“What?” Naji asked.

Marjani didn’t answer.

“That is what you told him, right?” I asked. “That story about what you told me–”

“No,” Marjani said. “I didn’t tell him the story I told you.” Her fingers twisted around the hem of her shirt.

“Then what–”

“If you spoke better Jokjani,” Marjani said, “you’d know.”

That stung.

“Arrest her?” Naji asked. Marjani ignored him, and he turned to me, which made my heart pound for a few a

“Nothing,” I snapped. “My Jokjani ain’t good enough for me to know anything.”

Worry lines appeared on Naji’s brow.

The door banged open, and the sound of it echoed across the huge, empty room. A pair of guards came in – these had different uniforms from the one at the gate, and they carried swords instead of spears. Marjani straightened up. She didn’t say nothing to me or Naji, just stood there smoothing her hands over the fabric of her shirt, all wrinkled up from where she’d been clutching it.

The guards walked across the room and stopped and turned to the door. And then two more guards walked in, and then a trio of pretty young attendants and then this graceful woman with dark brown skin and a halo of black hair. Figures she’d be beautiful.

“Saida,” said Marjani, her voice husky.

The woman stopped. She lifted one hand to her mouth. “Jani?” she asked. “No, it can’t–”

Marjani nodded. I realized her hands were shaking. The woman – Saida, the woman from the story, the princess, the queen – rushed forward, the soles of her shoes clicking across the floor.

The guards didn’t even move.

“I thought you were dead!” She threw her arms around Marjani’s neck and buried her face in Marjani’s hair. Marjani scooped her arms around Queen Saida’s waist and her eyes shimmered. When she blinked a tear fell down her cheek.

Naji looked back and forth between the two of them and then over at me.

Queen Saida kissed Marjani, and they stayed that way for a long time, like they’d forgotten what kissing was like. When they pulled apart, their hands stayed touching.

“You’re queen,” Marjani said, her voice full of wonder. They were speaking Jokjani, a dialect I had an easier time understanding.

“I am.” Queen Saida gave this little bow like it was the other way around, like Marjani was the queen and not her. “Were you so far away that you couldn’t hear news from Jokja?” She smiled. It made her light up like she was filled with stars.

“No, I heard. That’s why I came. But I just… I couldn’t quite believe it.”

“You knew I’d inherit.”

“I know, but it’s one thing to hear about, another to actually see–” She shook her head. “And I’ve been in the Empire so long, I’d forgotten–”

“The Empire!” Queen Saida exclaimed. “What’s that like? Have they invaded the ice-islands yet?”

Marjani rolled her eyes. “Surely the Queen of Jokja would know if the Empire had made a move for the ice-islands.”

“I know they’ve been trying.” Saida tilted her head. “Are you sure you were in the Empire? Because you look like a pirate.”

“Well, I was doing that, too.”

Queen Saida burst into laughter, though she covered her mouth up like a lady. Which I guess she was.

Marjani gave her a smile, small and sad.

And then Queen Saida turned to me and Naji. He pulled the mask away from his face, rose up from his chair, and gave her this handsome bow. Then he hauled me up by the arm.

“Saida, I would like you to meet Ana

“Just Naji?” asked Saida.

“I am Jadorr’a.”

Queen Saida’s polite smile didn’t waver once. “It is a pleasure to meet you,” she said to Naji. She pressed her hand to her heart. Naji did the same and bowed again. Then she turned to me. “And you, Pirate Ana

“I’ll arrange for rooms in the guest quarters,” Queen Saida said. She looked at Marjani. “Would two suffice? One for each of your companions?”

The air was heavy with the scent of flowers. Marjani nodded slowly. Nobody said nothing about Marjani’s room.

“Wonderful. I’m afraid I have business to attend to… I wasn’t expecting you–”

“I’m sorry,” Marjani said.

“Don’t apologize. I’ll let the cooks know you’re here. You can join me for di

She dipped her head again and then turned on her heel, skirts swirling around her legs. When she left the room, a scent like spice and flower petals lingered in the air.

One of the guards stayed behind.

“I can see you to the atrium while your rooms are being prepared,” he said, in that stiff formal way soldiers get sometimes.

Marjani looked dazed. She didn’t answer him, just stared at the door where Saida had disappeared.

“That would be fine,” said Naji.

The guard glanced at him real quick and then averted his eyes.

The atrium turned out to be an enormous room filled with sunlight that overlooked the jungle. There was a guy there telling a story to some little kids, half of ’em looking like nobles and the other half looking like servants, and a table laid out with food, fresh fruit and sugared flowers and spicy herbed cheese, plus a sweet sugar-wine that reminded me a little of rum.

There were some guards, too, near the door, keeping their eye on everything. I was in half a mind to try and steal something just to see if I could.

Marjani collapsed on a pile of cushions near one of the windows. Sunlight sparkled across her face. She pressed her hand to her forehead and looked out at the jungle, green and undulating like the sea.

“You didn’t ask her about the starstones,” Naji said.

My stomach clenched up. I should tell him what Jeric had said. But not here, surrounded by stories and sunlight, even though I knew I’d have to tell him eventually: I didn’t want him to die, no matter how bad he hurt me.

“The starstones aren’t going anywhere,” Marjani said. “I’ll ask her tonight.”

Naji frowned, and for the first time since I met her, I felt a sudden flash of irritation at Marjani.