Chapter 17
By the time the sun rises in the sky the next day, my friends and I are already saddling the new gryphs the Maiwurians have given us. Nenneh Kadeh tried to persuade us to rest, build up our strength, but given the urgency of our task, our group has agreed that we need to move on as quickly as possible. Time is short, not just for us but for the whole world. We need to prepare for the arduous journey ahead. After all, we’re going to the one place I hoped never to return to—the place where everything began for me.
“Irfut.” Britta shakes her head as she considers the unpleasant proposition. She’s saddling the gryph closest to me, a pale silver cat with paler wings. It’ll blend in perfectly with the snow in my former home village. It’s sure to be the cold season there now.
We’re leaving the gryphs we brought with us behind. They’re exhausted from the journey and still half starving. The new ones are fresh, especially important since we need them to carry all the gifts the Maiwurians have loaded us up with—not just food supplies and the like but new armor, each piece suited to our particular gifts, like heat-resistant material for Keita. What’s more, the new gryphs are used to ebiki, so Ixa’s presence won’t alarm them as it did our old gryphs when we first started out.
“Why did it have to be Irfut?” Britta groans, shaking her head.
I sigh. “Because that’s where all Mother’s things are, the ones that still smell like her.”
“And smells spur memory, which helps in the combat state,” Britta says, parroting Lamin’s words. “Can’t believe we didn’t think of that earlier.”
“Sometimes, the most practical solutions are the ones most easily missed.” The words spill out of my mouth before I even think them, a testament to how deeply ingrained they are.
Britta snorts. “That sounds like something White Hands would say.”
“It’s precisely something White Hands would say, which is why she said it—repeatedly,” I remind her.
Britta blinks, a fine display of confusion. “An’ where was I when she did?”
“Complaining of your menses.”
Britta taps her lips. “Haven’t had them this month yet.” When I turn to her, alarmed, she swiftly tsks. “An’ this is wha starvation an’ stress will do to ye! They bother everythin’ in yer body!”
As she grumbles under her breath, I clear my throat, unsure of how to continue. “And you’re certain it’s just that, starvation and stress?” I begin delicately.
“Of course it is, Deka, why would ye—” Britta gasps. “Ye don’t think me an’ Li—”
“No, I was just—”
“Just because ye an’ Keita have been carryin’ on doesn’t mean me an’ Li have been—”
“We haven’t!” I’m quick to deny. “We didn’t last night! We just kissed and…”
“An’…?” Britta quirks an eyebrow.
“And you know.”
“No, I don’t.” Britta is so delighted now, every trace of her prior horror is gone. “Yer going to have to spell it out for me. With pictures even, so ye can set the scene.”
I shake my head. “I’m not going to set the scene, you—you pervert!”
“How am I the pervert for askin’ questions about a topic ye raised, an’—” Britta stops, frowning as she realizes. “Yer tryin’ to distract me!” Then she grins, delighted. “So wha really did happen last night, Deka? Did ye hold each other tightly an’ kiss an’ caress an’—”
“No!” I say hurriedly. “No to all that and whatever else it is you’re thinking in that twisted little mind of yours.” I humph sanctimoniously. “Get ahold of yourself. We have a mission to complete.”
“Ye mean like ye did last night?”
I grin. “We did embrace and kiss and so forth.”
“Really?” Britta seems delighted. “How forth is so forth? Because Li and I also so forthed a little last night.” When I glare at her, she laughs. “All right, all right, I’ll stop. I’ll focus.” She clears her throat. “So, have ye told White Hands we’re goin’ to Irfut yet?”
I shake my head. “Couldn’t figure out a way. Her gauntlets can’t pierce the Great Barrier, and the gods refuse to communicate with the outside. Nothing goes anywhere except via Bala and Myter, and they already grumbled yesterday about how much they’ve upset the balance, whatever that is. Oh, and they’re yandau, by the way—Myter, that is.”
“Good to know,” Britta says with a nod, her eyes filled with concern now. “All jokes aside, are ye certain ye’ll be all right, Deka? Goin’ back to Irfut?”
Back to the place where I was locked in that cellar and murdered nine times because my blood ran gold instead of red….
I nod. “I’ll be fine. Truly,” I insist. And for once, I actually believe it. I’m not the girl I was there anymore. I smile as I look up at her. “Don’t worry, I have myself well in hand. Even if the wounds return, I’ll still be able to defend myself. They won’t see me coming.”
But Britta is suddenly stuck on my last few words. “Wha do ye mean, ‘if the wounds return’?” She glances at me, her gaze sharp now. “The ebiki cured them. I saw them do it.”
“For now,” I reply, my jaw suddenly tight. “But when we leave here, we leave the ebiki behind. It’ll take time, but the wounds will appear again.”
“Oh, Deka.” Britta hurries toward me, her eyes wide. “Why didn’t ye tell me?”
“There wasn’t time, what with everything happening so fast.” I ball up my fists as fear suddenly rises, a heavy, suffocating emotion. “I keep telling myself I can endure it,” I whisper. “If it comes again, I can endure it. But I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if I want to…. I’m so tired, Britta. So very tired.”
Soft arms engulf me, holding me tight. Offering me comfort, understanding. “Me too,” Britta whispers, leaning her head on my shoulder. “I’m tired too. Tired of being strong, tired of fighting. But we have to endure it.”
I nod. “We have no choice.”
“Oh, I’m not so certain of that.” Lamin enters the stables, and Britta and I turn, startled to hear his voice.
I haven’t seen him all morning, so it’s something of a shock to see how he’s transformed between last night and today. He’s wearing formal robes, but not the ones I’m now accustomed to seeing Sarla’s godsworn wear. While his are the usual white, they have trailing sleeves and a cape that falls ever so elegantly on the grass.
If he notices my examination, he doesn’t comment. Instead, he just says, “Queen Ayo sent me. She wishes to speak with you. She and her children have prepared a gift.”
Britta and I glance at each other.
“A gift?” I ask.
“One even Ixa contributed to,” he continues, mysterious.
“So wha is it, or are ye goin’ to keep bein’ vague in yer new getup?” Britta humphs.
“Oh, this?” Lamin looks down as if startled. Then he smiles ruefully. “Spent the better part of the last decade in armor, so I wanted you to see me in something different before you go.” He sighs, steps forward. “Deka, I want to say—”
I stop him with a hand to his arm. “I’ll be seeing you,” I say quickly. “Not goodbye, but I’ll be seeing you.”
It’s as much as I can give him—acknowledgment that we may one day meet again on better terms.
It’s not likely, but it is possible.
Anything is possible.
Lamin nods, then looks at me again. “Do you think you can ever forgive me?”
I nod. “I already have.” When he brightens, I add, “But that doesn’t mean I’ll forget.”
He sighs, nods. “That’s a good strategy, I suppose.”
“Practical,” I say, heading out of the stables. “And also merciful, considering that if you did come back with us, White Hands would have your head.”
If it’s possible for Lamin to go any paler, he does, that unnerving white skin glistening in the bright sunlight. “There is that.”
“Indeed,” I say, continuing on. “Lead the way.”
To my surprise, Lamin skirts the shoreline entirely once we reach the beach. I thought Queen Ayo would be waiting somewhere in open water, but Lamin leads us instead toward what looks to be a small temple on a grassy hill. It’s a quiet, understated affair, a red stone building surrounded by an arbor of sweet-swelling fruit trees that overlooks the glistening blue ocean. Once we round the top of the hill, he leads us down a path through the center of the arbor to the entrance to the temple, which lies just beyond a small stream. We have to walk over a tiny curved stone bridge to get to the door. It’s more of a footpath, really, but Britta and I both slow the moment we approach it, our footsteps hesitant and uncomfortable.
That bridge looks familiar. Too familiar.
Suddenly, I’m back in Abeya, standing in front of the water bridge into the city of the goddesses, the one that refused to form for my companions and me when we went to confront them.
Britta notices my hesitance and smiles ruefully. “Memories, am I right?”
“Unfortunately so,” I say, shuddering. I reach out my hand. “Together?”
Smiling, Britta swiftly takes it. “Together.”
Hand in hand, we dash down the bridge to the safety of the solid ground beyond it. Lamin follows at a more leisurely pace, his white robes trailing behind him.
Once we reach the entrance to the temple, a small circular structure that arches high above us, he stops and waves me on. “This is where I leave you,” he says quietly. “You will find Queen Ayo at the bottom of the stairs.”
Britta sends him an arch look. Unlike me, she neither forgives nor forgets. “I’ll lead the way,” she sniffs, walking ahead.
I swiftly follow behind her.
The moment I approach the entrance, I stiffen. It’s quiet. Too quiet.
Suddenly, every one of my alarms are raised.
From the moment we arrived, this island has been a constant hum of activity. The footsteps of the godsworn as they go about their daily tasks, the calls of the monkeybirds and the insects flitting around the trees. The island is always alive with sound and movement.
Here, however, there is nothing. No noises, no movements I can discern. Just the rushing of waves and the bubbling of the stream. And a low, echoing hum from somewhere deep inside the structure—a sound I can’t quite make out.
If this is a temple, where are all the priests? Where are all the worshippers?
Britta must have the same concerns, because she turns to Lamin, a thin, insincere smile suddenly slicing her face. “Ye know, I’d rather you go first, if it’s all the same to you,” she says.
Lamin steps back, hurt on his face. “You think I’d betray you?”
“Again?” I remind him dryly, stepping closer. “You’ve done it once before, which is why I’d also like you to go into that dark, strangely quiet temple first.” I smile insincerely as well. “Fool me once and all that.”
Lamin sighs, that hurt blossoming across his entire face. For a moment, I’m almost swayed by it. Swayed by my former companion’s visible pain.
Then he looks up. “Unfortunately, I cannot obey that request. Queen Ayo allows only an honored few to see her in her current form.”
I shrug. “Then I suppose this means you are now one of those few.”
Lamin sighs again. “I don’t think you understand, Deka, I—”
Deka?A familiar chirping call sounds in my mind. When I turn toward the entrance, a blue snout is poking through it. Ixa’s back in his adolescent form, and he prances out to nudge at my legs. Deka, Mother waiting. You come! Come!
As I blink at Ixa, stunned that I never even felt his presence, Lamin smiles sadly at me. “As I said, all is well. The queen is waiting for you.”
“Then I suppose we have to get going. We’ll see ye back at the stables,” Britta says, waving him off.
Lamin just looks at us, pain in his eyes, then sets off across the bridge, his robes once again trailing behind him. Britta and I watch until he disappears down the hill.
The moment he’s gone, I glance at Britta. “Think I was too harsh?”
She shakes her head. “Not harsh enough. If this was the Warthu Bera, he’d have been flayed to death for what he did. Spying is one of the worst betrayals, no matter how pretty the excuse.” She squeezes my hand. “Stay the course, Deka.”
I nod. “I know,” I say, then I cross the threshold into the temple.
The moment I enter, my brows gather. This temple is not at all what I expected. But then, it was never a temple in the first place. I just assumed it was from its exterior. What it actually is, is a dark, circular library, its walls filled with shelves of scrolls and adorned with giant mosaic-tile murals of the ebiki. Floating orbs shine a wafting blue light on those murals, giving the illusion that the ebiki are underwater, their blue scales gleaming in the near darkness. I want to take a moment to just admire them, but then Ixa bounds to the center of the room, where a staircase beckons, its steps descending into the darkness below. He glances at me excitedly.
Deka come, Mother wait for us below!
Nodding, I make my way carefully to the staircase. That strange hum I heard is echoing up from it. As is the sound of water.
“Looks to be a cavern,” Britta announces as she marches down after Ixa.
I follow behind, my eyes swiftly adjusting to the darkness, which increases as we descend until it’s almost all-encompassing.
“I still don’t understand how Queen Ayo can be here, though,” I muse, watching as a shimmering blue light begins playing on the walls. “If it’s a cavern, the water will be too shallow.”
Britta shrugs. “Maybe we’re meant to take a boat out?” Then she brightens. “Or maybe the gift is the boat—but no, that would be inconvenient. I’d rather Bala take us straight to Irfut.” Then she glances at me. “How are ye doin’ on creatin’ doors again?”
I sigh. “Poorly? Nonexistently?”
Britta frowns. “Nonexistently? Is that even a word?”
I don’t answer Britta. I can’t. Whatever I was about to say is forgotten, my next few words erased as I see what waits for us at the bottom of the cavern.