Page 33 of Black Salt Queen

They sat there in silence for a long moment. She scoffed when the gods didn’t whisper their reply.

Eti was the first to rise and climb out of the spirit house. “I think the gods listened to me this time, don’t you?” she asked as Laya and Bulan followed her.

Laya didn’t think the gods cared for humans a single mite. She opened her mouth to tell Eti this, when the distant sound of drumming caught her attention. The beating grew closer, shaking the stilts upon which the spirit houses stood, and rattling Laya’s bones.

Eti’s face brightened. “That must be the parade. Oh, we have to go and see.”

The guard looked uneasily between them. He looked to be around Bulan’s age?—young and, until then, untested by the Gatdula sisters. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” he said.

“Why not?” Laya asked, crossing her arms.

She had always wanted to watch the parade, but rarely did the royal family take part. Yesterday’s dawn ceremony was for the nobles, but this celebration was for the rest. Laya loved how the city transformed in a matter of hours. During the parade, joyful shouting and colorful masks flooded the streets. Warriors showed off for the swooning crowd in the central square, and every merchant decorated their storefront with towering chandeliers made of crispy cassava wafers. At sundown, star-shaped lanterns lined the canals and Mariit burst into song, with music and dancing everywhere.

“Spirits will be high tonight,” the guard warned. “It could get dangerous.”

It was not Laya who spoke this time, but Bulan. She placed a hand on the hilt of her sword. “With all due respect, I think we’re more than capable of protecting ourselves.”

“I don’t doubt that, Dayang.” Still, he spared a wary glance at Eti, the smallest and gentlest out of all of them. Laya stifled a laugh. She forgot how Ojas’s men admired her. They saw Eti as an ethereal, absent-minded goddess. Mostly, they feared the other Gatdula sisters.

“I suppose there’s no harm in a bit of extra protection,” Laya said, to put his mind at ease.

Eti let out a squeal of excitement and dragged her sisters along. They followed the swell of laughter and music. A crowd had already formed in one of the nearby squares. They bore baskets of fruit and bamboo torches. Their bodies were covered with feathers and beads and vivid paint. Laya and her sisters were among the few who weren’t in costume. The crowd cried out in joy at the sight of them and swooped over and around them to the beat of the drums. The Gatdulas became an island, them and their guard, surrounded by a sea of birds.

“We should leave,” the guard shouted over the noise.

Eti gave him a serene smile and grabbed his hand. “Dance with me,” she said, as if she hadn’t heard him.

To their surprise, the guard complied. He looked mesmerized by the princess’s close proximity. Laya rolled her eyes?—and people called her the wily one.

She turned to Bulan, only to find that her elder sister had been swept into the arms of one of the women in the crowd. To Laya’s shock, Bulan didn’t look like she was about to murder her. For once, she was beaming.

Laya’s mind swam in the swirl of color and voices. She stumbled back, searching for a partner, when a strong arm wrapped around her waist.

“You’re out late,” the man said, face hidden by a warrior mask. The painted eyes bulged, and the carved mouth opened to reveal fangs long enough to frighten any predator. His vest was unfastened at the collar, revealing the web of tattoos on his chest. She recognized him instantly.

Laya gasped. “Luntok! How did you find me?”

He ran his finger over one of her necklaces. “With all that gold, you’re hard to miss.”

Her heart rate quickened. She pulled him closer, unable to deny the glee that burst in her chest at the sight of him. “How was the tournament?” she asked.

“Oh.” Luntok drew back in surprise. “I thought you had forgotten.”

Laya bit back the guilt. Shehadforgotten, but Luntok didn’t have to know that. “Something came up at the palace. I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” she said sincerely. “How did you do?”

“I beat Bato, and it wasn’t even close. You should have seen him, Laya. He was pathetic.” He chuckled nastily.

Laya found herself laughing too?—she didn’t care for Bato Tanglaw and would have enjoyed watching Luntok destroy him. “I really am sorry,” she said quietly in his ear. “I know you wanted me to be there.”

“You must come to the next fight, then,” he said. “I’m meant to fight Utu Luma.”

“Utu Luma?” she echoed, incredulous. Laya was no fighter, but she knew Utu Luma was a brutish warrior nearly twice Luntok’s size, as well as the winner of several past tournaments.

“You look worried.”

“I’m not worried,” she lied. Laya remembered how Utu Luma would grunt through dinners at the palace, scoffing whenever the king made any mention of music or poetry. Manhood, in Utu’s mind, was a singular endeavor in which Hari Aki fell short. As far as Laya was concerned, Luntok could gut him.

He cocked his head to the side, the mask concealing his expression. “You are... a bit.”

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