Herjuno’s belief in the occult grew. Now it was buttressed by not only his own superstitious family but his wife’s. Opening a new business? A palaver with a psychic was a prerequisite. Confirming a major deal? A horoscope analysis was de rigueur. So it was no wonder that in response to his bizarre dream, Herjuno resolved to contact Ki Joko Kuncoro, trusted medium to his extended family.

—

Once upon a time, there lived a wondrously beautiful princess. She begged her enchantress grandmother to make her beauty eternal. Ageless. Immortal. Her grandmother granted her request on the condition that the girl agree to become a lelembut, a trouble-making spirit. Then, for that glow of unfading beauty, the girl plunged into the sea and surrendered to the lapping of the seductive waves. She was now alone and friendless, but she possessed a palace in plain view of all and an assemblage of ghostly warriors. She was Kanjeng Ratu Kidul, Queen of the South Sea.

One day, the Queen spied the founding sultan of Mataram, Panembahan Senopati, meditating, pleading for the prosperity of his people. So powerful was her desire that the sea raged, boiling, and the fish were hurled up onto dry land. This caused the Queen to reveal her form. It is unclear whether she was led to do so by a mortal threat to the creatures of the deep or by Senopati’s charm and power but, in the end, they came to know each other. Kanjeng Ratu was prepared to help Panembahan Senopati achieve prosperity on the condition that Panembahan and his heirs would serve as her consorts. An agreement was reached and peace descended upon the mortal realm once more.

Since that time, the members of the lineage of Senopati are destined to serve as consorts to the Queen of the South Sea. The princes of the Surakarta Kraton have always held a special bond with this lelembut. Even the site of the union of body and soul with the Queen was deemed a special place, the Sangga Buwana Tower.

The marriage of the Queen and Senopati meant a harmony of water and land, heaven and earth, linggam and yoni. The balance imparted fertility to the Sultanate of Mataram and yoked the South Sea to it.

—

Psychic Ki Joko Kuncoro’s workspace was covered with Javanese daggers, old books, and photographs taken with the rich and famous. I knew because Herjuno had asked me to come along with him. The psychic’s client list was nothing to be sneezed at: it included prominent businessmen and government officials. The psychic was dressed in black and looked as if he kept up with the times. On his desk stood a computer with internet access. Maybe googling information was quicker than seeking divine inspiration.