Page 92 of Black Salt Queen

Once more, Duja ignored her. Carefully, she stepped onto the bridge. The earth didn’t crack beneath her weight. She followed it, one step at a time, until she made it to the island. Then she turned around and waited for Imeria to join her.

“Oh,” Imeria said. “I think I understand now.” Gingerly, she planted one foot on the bridge, moving cautiously so as not to upset her injured ribs.

The narrow outline of Imeria’s figure wavered in the silvery fog. She glided toward Duja like a fevered fantasy that Duja had dreamed up when she’d been too young to know any better. A hallucination. A mirage. Neither of them spoke; the only sound was the dull pad of Imeria’s footsteps as they echoed across the water. Duja shivered as a zephyr breezed through the summit, rustling her tangled, dirt-ridden hair and the bloodred hibiscus flowers that poked through the rocky ledges of the crater. For a brief moment, it lifted the veil of mist hiding Imeria’s face from view. She stared at Duja, her slender jaw squared and her fine eyebrows arched in anger.

Duja’s chest tightened. Imeria had always been the braver, the lovelier, of the two.

She was the reason Aki was dead.

“To die alone. Is this what you wanted?” Imeria called, her voice a delicate saber that pierced through the blanket of fog. She lifted the hem of her skirt and stepped onto the island, which was almost too small to shelter both of them. If she leaned in, her breath might have danced across Duja’s hollowed cheeks.

“I am not alone,” Duja said, unable to quell the ache blossoming in the pit of her stomach.

“We’re both alone,” Imeria said with a firm shake of her head. “You shouldn’t have come all the way up here. You shouldn’t have abandoned your men.” Her nostrils flared as if she were chiding her, but Duja thought she heard a quiver of remorse in her voice.

“You were the one who should have stayed on the cliffs. You shouldn’t have followed me here,” Duja said.

“I’d follow you anywhere. I’ve been chasing you since the moment we met.” Imeria’s voice quaked. Duja fought the urge to reach for her.

As the queen stood across from Imeria, the harrowing battleground at the base of the mountain faded to a distant nightmare. This lake was the only universe that had ever mattered, all because Imeria Kulaw stood at its quiet center.

“You knew long before I did,” Duja told her. “It was always meant to be you and me.”

The corners of Imeria’s lips curled into a pained grin. “Then why do you sound displeased? I allowed you to draw me away.”

Duja shook her head bitterly. “Too many people have died,” she said again. “We must end this.”

“I agree.” Imeria’s hand shot out. Without warning, she cupped Duja’s face. Her fingers were gentle?—a clever mimicry of a lover’s caress. Duja knew better. She jerked back, but it was too late.

A wall of pain struck her body. Duja keeled over. She felt as if a thousand knives had sliced through her skull and lodged themselves into her brain. She tried to beg for mercy, but her mouth hung open in a silent scream, unable to form words.

In her agony, Duja grew acutely aware of the battle’s toll on her body. She felt every tear in her muscles, every pang in her limbs. The ache flooded her all at once?—along with the full weight of the previous twenty-two years. Since that fateful day in the palace courtyard, everything she had feared had come to pass. Strangely, Duja found freedom in it. She stopped struggling. Let her body fall limp. It was easier to lean into Imeria’s palm. Easier to offer herself up to her tormentor like a boar on a spit.

Imeria’s hard voice pierced through the burning haze. “What are you doing?” she demanded between labored breaths. “Fight me.Fight back.”

She relented long enough for Duja to let out a tired chuckle. “This once, Imeria, I wish I could indulge you. But I’m afraid I have no fight left within me.”

“That’s it, then?” Imeria gritted out. Once again, the queen had disappointed her. “You’ve decided to forsake your family. Your people. The same way you have forsaken me.”

Duja allowed her eyes to close for a brief, arduous moment. She barely felt the passing wind as shame heated her cheeks. Atop Mount Matabuaya, there was nothing to shield her from the honesty in Imeria’s words. For the first time in two decades, they were truly alone. Isolated from their families, their armies, and the court that had kept them apart. What brought them there?—a child’s yearning? A god’s wrath?

Their love was once a secret whispered in a young girl’s ear. Perhaps, in another life, they could have remained princess and companion, rather than queen and enemy. But their bloodlines had sealed their fate long before. A Gatdula and a Kulaw, drawn together for no longer than a heartbeat in history. Reunited miles above the capital, they left nothing but destruction in their wake. No declaration of love, no promise of mercy, could have altered the outcome. They should have known their path would lead there, in the end.

Duja’s heart filled with hollow acceptance. “Haven’t we been punished enough for our youthful errors? Or is more violence to follow? More senseless death?” she wondered aloud.

Bitter recognition flickered in Imeria’s expression. At last, she released her. Duja fell to the ground, trembling, her chest slicked with sweat. She looked up. Something had broken in Imeria’s gaze.

“I don’t wish to hurt you, Duja,” she said in a ragged voice. “I didn’t wish for any of this.”

Duja saw her own torment reflected in the other woman’s eyes. The thick fog blurred the harsh lines of her face. In the dusky light, Imeria almost looked like the girl she’d been when she’d arrived at the palace. She hadn’t harbored such hatred inside her then. Duja looked at the vessel of destruction and pain she had become, and her heart filled with grief.

I created this.

“You must forgive me,” Duja whispered. “If I had been kinder to you back then?—”

“Duja, don’t.” Imeria turned away. Her shoulders shuddered. She was crying. “I was loyal to you. I defended you when your miserable brother threatened to burn you to a crisp,” she said as the sobs wracked her body. “I loved you, Duja, even though I knew you would never love me back. I told myself it didn’t matter. I thought it an honor just to serve you. I never would have harmed you. By the gods, Duja, I was yourheart. How could you not see that?”

Duja’s soul cleaved in two. For a long moment, she said nothing. She listened to Imeria’s cries as they echoed across the crater?—the sound of Duja’s mistakes.

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