Chapter 85 Kali
KALI
My legs dangled off the edge of the temporary stage erected in Ardaton’s city square. Wind whipped my and Jayla’s hair, the ends of her fire-colored braids swaying as she surveyed the crowd filling the space to the brim.
Everyone had been ordered to gather here or at the largest crossroads set up with screens and projectors. Or allowed to watch the broadcast from their homes.
Home.
Such a curious word. It contained exactly four letters, but an innumerable amount of undertones. Of feelings. Of meanings.
Although a mere day had ticked by since we’d won the war, but already, countless Matches had split based on one partner’s wishes. Their apartments—homes—had been allocated to others.
For the first time in history, since the cities had walled up, the living spaces were assigned not according to the shade of your wristband, but your health and preferred gender to reside with.
“How long until they finish? I really need to pee,” Jayla whispered, not wanting to disturb the speech Gedeon and Damia were giving about the new laws and the judgment for the crimes Ardaton’s higher-ups had committed.
“They should announce the sentences soon,” I murmured, my thigh bumping against Jayla’s. The contact seared me, even through a pair of soldier’s cargo pants I’d found in the military barracks. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I patted her leg. “How’s Ava doing?”
Out of all our friends, not many had survived. Ava and Jayla were part of the few still standing.
If only they could restore my heart from the dust it’d disintegrated into.
Jayla scrunched up her nose at the far side of the stage, where the seven Ardaton’s Heads stood, guarded by Ava and Zion. The seven rulers were powerless for once in their existence.
“Okay, I guess. Like all of us.” She rubbed the freckles emerging along her collarbones, the sleeves of her yellow knitted sweater rolled to her elbows. “The doc said one kidney is more than enough for a normal life.”
Ava had been lucky. The bullet had ruptured a major blood vessel, and if not for the help of a green-banded woman, she would have…wasted away.
Waiting for Damia and Gedeon to raise their voices, to declare the three cities had been confirmed to have lost the war and that Ardaton would be re-named together with Ilasall and Coriattus, I nudged Jayla with my elbow. “I heard she got you a gift.”
Her cheeks instantly matched the hue of her braids.
“She did. We’re thinking about naming him Frost because he’s all white, but his ears have black tips, and the tip of his tail is dark too, and he’s so cute I just want to squish him, but Ava won’t let me, so I…
” she babbled on and on about the kitten Ava had brought home.
Gradually, her prattling morphed into calming, ambient noise. I was happy for my friend, I truly was, but the baffled, content, unbelieving, celebratory, ruminating, lost, and all-the-shades-in-between expressions of the throng listening to our leaders’ speech had seized my attention.
We had an incredibly long way to go. The new system of how our communities were supposed to function couldn’t be established overnight.
Many sleepless nights awaited us. With the decision to distribute everyone across the three compounds and the trio of cities, we had ended up with six territories in total.
“…the wristbands will be deactivated,” Damia announced.
“You will be assigned a date and a time for when to come to the Matching institute, where the electronic devices will be removed. Skipping your visit will not result in punishment, but be aware that the color of your band has officially lost its value. Going forward, all will be treated equally.”
Thinking about how we’d have to give a similar speech in Ilasall tomorrow, I swung my legs—
The heels of my boots bounced off the side of the stage, and I mentally cringed at the sound as people in the front row snapped their focus to me.
Unbothered, Damia continued. “With that resolved, we can move to the last part.” The silver buttons of her black vest sparkled in the sunshine as she gave Gedeon a curt nod.
“Thank you, Damia,” he said, sucking all the air out of the atmosphere and replacing it with ruthlessness. “We have already sentenced your government for their transgressions. I will not repeat myself, nor now, nor in the future, so listen closely.”
The executions were about to begin.
Gedeon made a come-hither motion at Zion, and he herded the offenders forward, Ava at his side and his catch-and-play team at the group’s back, the formation effectively sandwiching Ardaton’s higher-ups and cutting off any routes of escape.
Once the seven men had lined up, Gedeon marched to the front of the stage, where a tree stump had been placed. “The judgment has been cast, and the figures of Ardaton’s authority will repent for their wrongdoings as follows.”
As he listed the different fates awaiting the city’s government, I hummed with contentment. Gedeon had taken my proposition and made it come true. Each Head was going to die in a way corresponding to their area of responsibilities.
The Head of Nutriment? Death by starvation.
The Head of Health? By dehydration.
Labor? Stoning. Something I’d read about in the black-market books.
Education? Suffocation. He could die as slowly and painfully as how he killed the minds of their citizens.
Military? Dismemberment. While he was alive, of course. No fun otherwise.
Welfare? Fire. At last, the man would experience the burning sensation of when an unwanted presence invaded you, licked you, bit you.
Identical punishments were being declared for Coriattus’ government right this second too, only by Dain and Nissa. We’d timed the announcements to the minute.
“That leaves us with the Head of Ardaton.” Gedeon yanked the axe out of the tree stump, the blade polished to perfection—undeniably Zion’s work. “Who we will also begin with.”
My stomach knotted, but in a good way. Gedeon’s accepting-no-objections tone had curled my toes.
Zion brought the man who’d ruled this city to stand before the tree stump. Oak, to be precise.
“Kneel, Adder,” Gedeon barked. “Your sentence has been determined to be decapitation.”
His chin held high, the City Head lowered to his knees, his white button-up shirt smeared in filth and his own blood.
A line of crusted crimson stretched from his tumble of black curls down to his dimpled chin.
“Good luck living with the knowledge that you have just single-handedly caused the extinction of the human race.”
“I will revel in it,” Gedeon hissed, so low, only those closest to him could hear his promise. “Every morning when I wake up with Zion and Kali in my bed and every dinner we share with our friends, I will take pleasure in knowing you are dead.”
Ava raised the axe above her head, her sun-kissed brown hair braided like a crown atop her head, highlighting her pointy chin and angular features.
“Have fun being reduced to a ball for us to kick around.” Gedeon shoved Adder’s head onto the tree stump, and—
The axe whooshed down. The blade hacked through the tender tissues and the vertebrae in Adder’s neck with an addictive crunch.
The crowd gasped. Cries of shock from here and there floated over to us, but the majority of spectators remained silent, their smiles speaking for them.
Adder’s head plummeted from the tree stump, the round body part reminiscent of a ball. It rolled across the stage, one foot after another, until it bumped against my thigh, bouncing an inch away and coming to a stop.
“Ew,” Jayla screeched, scooching away from me.
But revulsion didn’t cling to me like it did to her.
I traced Adder’s eyebrow, the tiny hairs pricking my fingertips like thorns. Warmth still radiated off of him, as intense as the hue of his blood seeping between the planks of wood.
A quickly ebbing stream of scarlet gushed out of the clean-cut neck, soaking my pants and beckoning me to use it as paint.
And I did, dipping my fingers in the hot puddle and drawing an X on Adder’s face, from his left temple to the right side of his jaw and then the other way around.
A sigh of freedom sent tingles through my limbs. Perhaps I wasn’t completely sane. But what did it even mean to be of sound mind?
Pushing Adder’s head off the stage, I relished how it crashed onto the stone-paved square and rolled away, toward three green-banded men who jumped back before their master’s head could collide with their gleaming leather shoes.
Coated in a film of dust, Adder’s halo of dark curls rustled in the wind like a flag of our victory.