Chapter 3 Kali
KALI
Enough.
I had to disperse the sickening storm inside me or I was going to puke myself out and then there wouldn’t be anything left in me to push the Head of Ilasall off the top of the Spire.
With my head resting on the edge of the bathtub, I peered out the small window above it. The flickering streetlights were the sole illumination in my bathroom, allowing me a glimpse into the sinister world behind the glass.
A distorted shadow slunk along the wall of a concrete building opposing my window. Its shape morphed as it moved, never pausing, never resting, ready to pounce on anyone brave enough to venture out in the middle of the night.
It wasn’t like my shadow. He would watch over me, unmoving, unyielding, like a hunter mesmerized by a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Except I wasn’t a wolf. I was a human rising in the ranks of gods.
My shadow would find me any time I sneaked out of the city.
The first time had been a couple of months ago, when sleep had decided to evade me.
My bedsheets had tangled around my legs, and I had tossed and turned for hours, until realization had dawned that I would have to chase my rest outside of the city.
Fleeing through one of the smaller of Ilasall’s gates, paying no attention to the ogling of the sordid guard on shift, I had spared not a moment to survey the size of the city wall—even from inside Ilasall, it was too extensive to walk around—and raced across the grassy field, straight toward the forest.
The night’s breeze had carried me forward, toward the tree line, the demarcation line between the city and life, between the grayness of concrete and colors, all shades of green, the hues so vivid they practically pulsed, as if with a heartbeat.
The woods had rippled with gloom so thick I had barely been able to make out the individual trees. Wandering around, I had relished the soothing dew dripping from the low foliage, each drop like a breath of crisp air.
The longer I’d roamed, the easier it’d been to stroll, and soon the forest parted, revealing a clearing. It was quite small, about sixty yards wide, but if it would’ve been possible to lay claim on a territory, I would’ve instantly done so.
That night, lying in the middle of the field, I had gazed at the night sky. The full moon had loomed above me, so full that its maw had devoured me whole and I’d become the moon itself.
But a sudden crunch of a branch, the noise utterly jarring in the dead of the night, had spooked the moon, and it’d spat me back out to run and hide behind a cloud.
I’d searched for the source of that sound, wishing to throttle the owner, but I hadn’t been able to locate anyone or anything. Shadows had been veiling the tree line. They, it, whatever, whoever could see me wide and clear, but I couldn’t see them.
So I had waited, listening for anything to disrupt the silence.
But it hadn’t been eerie or petrifying. It’d been…
soft. Like a caress on your lower back. Its whispers had skittered up my spine, murmuring to stay, to wait, to relax, to obey.
The dew soaking through my pants had warmed up to a pleasant chill beckoning me to remain.
And then he had appeared.
Dressed all in black, almost one with the gloom. His back had blended with the forest as shadows had swarmed him, curling around his form, as if they had been hesitant to allow me to see him.
Or perhaps it’d been my survival instincts acting up, altering my perception of reality and conjuring up the darkness crawling all over him—a hallucination, a visual representation of the false sense of safety he’d lured to surface in me.
For the first time in my life, I hadn’t sensed the urgency to flee or fight my way out.
The night’s murmurs had snaked along my nape and their unrelenting beseeching had furled around me, tempting me to tip my head aside in hopes of catching a better look of the man.
He’d remained rooted in place, motionless. Not monitoring but…marveling. Like I was something intriguing. Someone of value.
The same cloud had betrayed the moon by fluttering away and moonlight had fallen on both me and him.
He’d been too far away to make out the details, but his skin was a darker shade despite the silver moonshine illuminating his nose, his chin, his jaw.
Like the moon had recognized him and wanted to absorb his essence through its light.
Since then, whenever I’d come to the clearing at night, he’d find me. Sometimes he’d be waiting for me, sometimes I’d notice him only when I was already marching back to the city. But he was always there, like he knew I’d show up.
He’d never taken more than a single step into my clearing. Never left the tree line and its shadows. I’d tried to talk to him on a few occasions, but he’d never responded. At that point, I’d gotten used to him simply being there.
But there was something about him, something I couldn’t wrap my head around, something captivating and alluring, something driving my hand up my leg after I’d return to the city, something—
I clenched my thighs, hoping it would eradicate my traitorous urges, and repeated my mantra consisting of three words: Get it together, get it together, get it together.
On the seventh count, my body betrayed me, warming up with half a thought about him, and I knew my feet would carry me to the forest tonight even if I said no to myself a thousand times.
My muscles stiff from both the cold and heat warring inside me, I dragged myself out of the bathroom.
The cracked mirror hanging by the door shimmered from the streetlights and I closed my eyes shut, not able to bear their reflection.
Their shade was green, emerald green. Exactly like those wristbands each person wore in the city.
A marker, an identifier of your status in our society.
Green—you had a properly working reproductive system, the supposed elite, black—you were the rest, the worthless, the commoners.
I was both—the jewel and the rabble.
With my feet stuffed into a pair of well-worn gray sneakers, I leaped down the stairs and out of the residential building I’d wormed my way into getting assigned to.
The deserted streets plunged me into alertness; the silence was disquieting.
It was different in the city. Outside Ilasall, it soothed you, but here…
it was dreadful. Like a noose around your neck, waiting for you to fall into its trap.
I sneaked through the neighborhoods full of colorless buildings seeking to pinch me down with their heaviness, pausing at the corners to listen for the telltale sign of heavy footsteps of soldiers marching past, on the lookout for issue-causing citizens, like me.
Ten blocks later, there they were, the small gates with that despicable night guard.
You’d think the circular wall containing the city would serve to shield Ilasall’s citizens from outside danger, but the truth was much more harrowing: they’d built it to keep everyone inside.
And then propagated the idea that it was for our own good.
Allegedly, the three cities had walled themselves off after a deadly disease broke out a hundred years ago and took a fifth of the fertile folks down.
So the governments vowed to direct their efforts into maximizing our survival chances by eliminating any unwarranted contact between the residents.
Yet they hadn’t even bothered coming up with the name for the sickness. Truly, such a believable tale it was once you grew up and procured the prohibited history books. An evening or two reading under the kitchen window, and the lies had been unveiled.
The guard stood up straighter as I came closer. “Searching for an escape? I can help you with that,” he purred, leering at me.
My delayed answer carried the silence that was suffocating the city and everyone in it. I knew what he meant. His escape from this world was different from mine. Each time he hit the button for the metal barrier to slide into the wall, I had to provide a favor.
Pig. I was going to rip his guts out the day I was free.
But I’d pay what he demanded for now.
“Later,” I said, my tone loathing.
“Enjoy your last outing, Kali. Once they finalize the changes in security, I won’t be able to let you through anymore.”
The way he said my name stirred nausea in my gut.
He overtly shifted his weight, making himself more comfortable in his pants, and motioned toward the gate. “Only for you,” he cooed.
His price was going to be high. Tonight was the last time I could escape the pressure of everything before they updated the security system. And he knew I’d pay it. His price had been increasing each time this last week.
I faltered at the idea of being trapped inside this side of the wall for the rest of my life. They were taking away the only thing that brought me peace. Air. Life. Will.
The gates creaked open enough for me to squeeze through, and I darted outside, the expanse of the tall grass field erasing my contemplation.
My trek toward the clearing in the forest was quick, so not a minute would go to waste.
Dawn threatened to fall soon, and the cloak of night would dissipate, turning my run back to my apartment perilous.
So I ignored the usually comforting strokes of the forest and focused on the scent of damp soil and rotting leaves—sweet with a hint of acridness.
Pausing about ten yards away from the clearing I frequented, I lowered to my knees. A lovely golden flower swayed in the night’s breeze.
A year ago, I’d managed to acquire a book in the black market by paying my debt in favors and had learned about a variety of plants and their toxicity levels. Though I had my sights set on eliminating the Head of Ilasall and his followers, I preferred sophisticated methods. Hardly traceable ones.
As innocent as the yellow oleander looked, a few of the petals, a dozen seeds, a generous slice of a root, or a couple of drops of sap from the stem could take down an adult.