Chapter 24
The first of the places White Hands is referring to turns out to be a massive plain that’s hidden deep inside the jungle, well beyond the grove of ganib trees. There, a river of wildflowers awaits, their blue petals undulating so softly, they almost appear to be swells of water. The thicket of trees surrounding them is in such a perfect circle, it makes my eyes narrow.
“Is this a farm of some sort?” I ask, glancing at Adwapa, who’s walking along with me, Asha, as always, by her side.
“More like a landing area,” Adwapa replies, looking pointedly up. The moment I follow her gaze, my eyes widen.
There, rising above us, is the mountain I saw when White Hands appeared to us in Maiwuri, although now that I’m nearer, I realize it’s not just any mountain. This one has a series of peaks that soar high above the clouds, a city carved into them. So that is Ilarong, the capital of all aviax cities. Buildings arise from the delicate stone, so precariously perched, they seem like they’re on the verge of tumbling into the abyss below. Flocks of aviax flit around them, either on their own or atop zerizards, the feathered, birdlike lizards commonly used as transport in Hemaira.
I watch the zerizards, stunned by how different they are here. Not in looks, perhaps, but in utilization. Back in Hemaira, zerizards were used as glorified horses to pull carriages. They very rarely left the ground. In fact, most had their wings clipped so they could never truly fly. Here, they’re in their natural element, soaring through the clouds, pulling what look like delicate glass palanquins, their highly polished sides gleaming in the late afternoon sun.
I gape up at them. “Are those—”
“Zerizards, such as you have never seen before?” a cheerful voice says. “Why, yes, yes they are.” A familiar whirring sounds as Lord Kamanda, the slight, gregarious aristocrat I met not so long ago, glides out of what seems like thin air on his golden chair, a pair of elaborately plumaged aviax at his side. Tall, bright red males, their necks and talon-like fingers are bedecked in heavy gold jewelry. They coo to each other as they stare at me, seemingly fascinated by my presence. It’s the same with the other aviax now landing, all of them males who tower over even the tallest human. They glance around at the people now gathered in the glade before their eyes slowly, inexorably find their way to me.
The moment each one spots me, he cocks his head, cooing to his comrades in the birdlike aviax language.
“Beautiful, are they not, Deka?” Lord Kamanda asks, emerging from the conveyance that I now see has brought him here.
It’s one of those palanquins, only this one is constructed of glass that reflects its surroundings, rendering it nearly invisible. The same glass armors the zerizards pulling the palanquin, obscuring them so completely, only their eyes are visible.
My jaw drops. No wonder aviax are so rarely spotted outside their cities. If they’ve been traveling in glass palanquins like this, they’re able to render themselves practically invisible.
Lord Kamanda takes the startled gasps of the crowd in stride as he makes his way over to me in his chair, which glides just as easily over the flowers as it did the polished stone floor of his mansion back in Hemaira.
Once again, I wonder if that chair isn’t some sort of arcane object, but no, I sense no divine power coming from it, only clever mechanics. Money truly does buy the finest things.
“Lord Kamanda,” I say, grinning. “What an unexpected pleasure it is to see you again.”
“And you, Deka,” the nobleman replies with his usual pleased smile. Becoming an enemy of the empire by helping young alaki escape the Warthu Bera doesn’t seem to have affected his optimistic nature in the least. He’s still his same exuberant self as he adds, “And under such auspicious circumstances too.”
“And what are those?” I can’t help but ask.
Adwapa turns to me, a long-suffering expression on her face as she says, “Lord Kamanda has been working with us as the official ambassador to the aviax.”
“A most colorful people,” the nobleman confirms admiringly.
Adwapa rolls her eyes, no longer able to hold back the expression, apparently. One thing she can’t abide is overly cheerful people. She and Belcalis are alike in that respect, and Lord Kamanda truly is one of the most genial people I’ve ever met.
I return my attention to him. “And your wife?” When last I saw Lady Kamanda, she was as enormous as a house, ready to pop twins at any moment.
A fond look enters the noble’s eyes. “It is my deepest joy to tell you that she has just birthed the twins. They’re up there.” He nods up at the city, where a host of those delicate palanquins is now descending. “As is Thandiwe, of course.”
“Of course,” I echo, nodding.
Karmoko Thandiwe, head instructor and my battle-strategy teacher at the Warthu Bera, is Lady Kamanda’s partner, her lover of at least a year. The pair met when Karmoko Thandiwe was searching for allies to rescue the girls who had been imprisoned in the Warthu Bera after I rebelled against the former Oteran emperor. That Lady Kamanda was married to Lord Kamanda was no obstacle either. Both nobles freely admitted that they were in a marriage of convenience.
I return my attention to Lord Kamanda as he adds, “Also, it is my deepest joy to tell you that Lady Kamanda and I have severed our marital bonds. As we can no longer reside in Hemaira, it is no longer necessary for us to uphold our union. And while we remain the deepest of friends and mates of the soul, as well as, of course, joint parents to our children, it’s high time I venture off and find a person of my own, perhaps a nice older gentleman. Preferably someone of some heft.” The exuberant noble sketches a plump figure with his hands.
I bite back a smile. “Then it seems I must offer you my deepest congratulations, Lord Kamanda,” I say. “I am happy for all the wonderful developments in your life, and I wish you well in finding the gentleman of your dreams.”
“My thanks,” he says, then he nods. “And now, for my official purpose. As ambassador of the Armies of the Angoro—”
“That’s what we’re calling them?” I ask, frowning.
“Terribly clever, isn’t it?” he replies with obvious pride. “I came up with it myself.”
“Did you now?” I manage to reply faintly while the twins titter beside me. Then I pause. “And are we certain we want to keep that title?”
“Of course we do!” Lord Kamanda is so emphatic, all I can do is nod. “Now then,” he says, clearing his throat, “I am pleased to welcome you officially, honored Angoro, to Ilarong, the capital of all the aviax aeries.”
“My thanks,” I say, nodding.
Then he beckons me. “This way. Your palanquin is here.” He points toward a large palanquin in the center covered in the same sort of glass as his. “It should be large enough for you and all your friends,” he says, nodding at my group, who are catching up to us now.
“Again my thanks,” I reply as I enter it, the others following swiftly behind me, Ixa in his nightflyer form behind them.
The minute the door locks, everyone turns to me. “Well,” Asha says, nudging me, “what did we miss?”
My group is not the only one that’s had adventures since the moment we split. That’s what Adwapa, Asha, Kweku, Acalan, Rian, Mehrut, and Katya relay to me during the half-hour journey up the mountain to Ilarong. From evading groups of enemy alaki and jatu to narrowly escaping proxies to battling the Forsworn, the purple-skinned male deathshrieks that are loyal to the Idugu, White Hands’s group has had a time of it, making their way across the Southern continent.
“We haven’t blundered into shadow vales, though,” Kweku says, shaking his head.
“And we certainly haven’t seen hide nor hair of Melanis,” Adwapa adds, leaning her head on Mehrut’s shoulder. “Can’t believe she’s alive.”
“And hideous,” Britta adds. “Looks like a bat, smooshed nose and everything.”
“No!” Katya gasps, shocked. If there’s one thing she loves, it’s gossip.
“Think she’s still out there?” Adwapa queries, her eyes curious.
“Without a doubt,” I say, gazing out the window. Ilarong is nearing now, its peaks stark against the rapidly setting sun. “If she survived having an entire mountain collapse on her, she can survive being hurled halfway across a forest.”
“By a godsworn!” Acalan sounds excited. “Can’t believe that there are actually such beings.”
“Or that Lamin was one of them,” Asha says, sadness rising in her eyes. Lamin was her uruni, and even though they weren’t close the way the rest of us are, they still had a bond.
When she looks down, I put my hand on her knee. “I’m sorry, Asha. I know what he meant to you.”
“And yet I never suspected. Me, one of White Hands’s spies.” She sighs sadly. “There’s surely some irony in that.”
“At least he never stabbed us in the back,” Adwapa says brightly. Then she frowns. “Literally, that is. Figuratively is another matter…”
“He betrayed us, hid his true loyalties.” Asha sighs. “Deka was right to leave him behind in Maiwuri. Maybe one day, he’ll atone for his actions.”
“But until then,” Britta says brightly, trying to lift the mood, “we’ll be explorin’ an actual aviax aerie. Look at Ilarong! We’re here!”
She flings the door open, then gestures. As I exit the palanquin, I follow the path of her hands, intrigued. Ilarong is certainly not what I expected. The city’s streets are paved with stone, and there are benches under the multitudes of leafy trees lining them. Given that this is a place populated by bird folk, I assumed that there would be neither—that the aviax would simply flit from one space to another, occasionally stopping to rest on the branches of one of the small, wind-twisted trees that sprout all across the mountain, or even the stone perches artfully carved into the buildings. But no. When I squint at one of the benches, Acalan, who is also just now stretching his legs, turns to me and shrugs.
“Humans,” he says, a statement so matter-of-fact, I can almost imagine him adjusting a pair of those glass eye contraptions Sarla’s godsworn were always wearing.
“What?” I ask.
“Once upon a time, the aviax coexisted with humans and equus. That’s why the streets look the way they do—to accommodate the other races. It’s fascinating, really, to think that so many types of creatures once lived here.”
I nod, not even bothering to ask how he knows—if there’s one thing Acalan loves, it’s acquiring information. Of our entire group, he’s the most studious, although Lamin might actually have him matched, given he’s an actual godsworn of the deity of wisdom.
I push all thoughts of Lamin out of my mind as I ask, “So what happened?”
“Oyomo did,” a pair of voices answer as one behind me. Braima and Masaima canter leisurely over to me, their clawed talons tapping lightly against the stone streets.
“When the jatu took over Otera and made everyone worship Oyomo, they declared all the semi-human races bestial—nearer to animals than humans—and said that they should no longer mix, to prevent contamination,” Masaima explains. “Evening greetings, Angoro, by the by.”
He and his brother trot closer to me, and both lean in, as if about to take an exploratory nibble at my hair, as is their habit. But then both their noses wrinkle, disgust evident in their expressions.
Braima, with the black-striped mane, is the first to speak, and he sounds disgusted. “Angoro, you smell like—”
“Death?”
“Unpleasantness,” he corrects. “Unpleasantness such as I have never before had the displeasure of smelling.”
“Indeed,” his brother agrees, backing away. “It is most foul.”
I blink. It seems the equus aren’t affected by the vale wraith’s pheromones the way my friends were. I store the information away in case it should come in handy.
I maintain my amused expression as both say, “We recommend you take a bath. Immediately.”
I nod. “I’ll take that under advisement.”
“See that you do,” they reply sternly, and just like that, they’re on their way.
Once they’re gone, Keita separates from the other boys and walks closer, only to lean in as if to take a whiff.
“Try it and die,” I say through clenched teeth, but Keita just shrugs.
“I hear there are hot springs on this mountain.”
“Truly?”
There’s an almost shy look on his face as he nods.
I look away, a blush heating my cheeks, when he quickly adds, “We could try one together if you wish.”
I think about the prospect, Keita and I relaxing in a hot spring together. Except there’s no time for that; there’s so much we need to do to find my kelai. But no, White Hands has her spies searching the Bloom, on the lookout for the Idugu’s minions.
There’s nothing I can contribute to that search in this moment, so I glance up at Keita, not directly meeting his eyes as I ask, “Is that permissible here? Me and you in the same hot spring? Together?”
“This isn’t the empire, Deka,” Keita says, nodding up to the sky. “This is Ilarong.”
I follow his gaze to the pairs of aviax flying past, tails intertwined.
Most are female-male pairs. I can tell because the males are much larger with much more brilliant plumage than the females, who, for the most part, come in shades of plain, grayish green. There are, however, some male-male and female-female pairs. Then there are the few aviax who are somewhat in the middle—grayish-green coloring with brightly feathered tails or the reverse. Those aviax, I suspect, are the ones who occupy the varied third genders.
As before, they all stare curiously at us when they pass, paying special attention to me with their birdlike yellow eyes. I can’t help but wonder whether White Hands has disseminated a scroll or some such with my likeness on it.
Keita gestures at a pair flying past, a trio of downy chicks beside them. “Here, we can be whatever we wish. Do whatever we wish”—I bristle at what he’s implying, and he quickly corrects—“within reason, that is.”
Keita knows that I don’t want to be rushed by what’s happening around us. Since we met, there have been a thousand crises, a thousand battles, which is why I’ve always ensured that we’ve kept our courtship slow. We can live in fear and in the moment in all the ways that warriors do, but as lovers, I want more for myself. I want the perfect time—even though that might be an unwise sentiment, given that the world is fated for extinction.
But, as White Hands says, the world is always fated for extinction.
Keeping that in mind, I nod, shyly reaching out my hand to enfold Keita’s. “Very well, let’s go to the hot spring together.”
“After ye eat.” This demand comes from Britta, who’s standing behind us, arms folded, Li beside her. “An’ really, Deka,” she sniffs, disapproval apparent, “ye’d think ye’d do more practical things with yer time than flittin’ about to hot springs an’ such, given the crisis we’re in.”
“But that’s precisely why we should go to the hot springs,” Li says, pulling her closer to him. He rubs a hand up and down her back. “If the world ends tomorrow, wouldn’t you like to die knowing you’d had a few hours of bliss with me?”
“I’d rather I live, thank ye very much, an’ that means plannin’ for wha comes next, not flitterin’ about to romantic places.”
I nod. “True. But in this case, I think Li is right.” When Britta turns to me, startled, I sigh. “We never have time. Ever since our blood ran gold, we’ve run from one place to another, always trying to stay one step ahead of death. And honestly, I’m tired, Britta.” I look plaintively up at her. “Aren’t you tired too?”
As Britta stands there, quiet, Belcalis places a hand on her shoulder. “I’m with Deka on this one. We’re all exhausted, and we haven’t seen each other in weeks. The gods will continue to do their worst, and the battles will always be there, but perhaps today we can enjoy our time together.” She inhales as if preparing herself. Then she looks pointedly at the group. “For tomorrow may never come.”
“For tomorrow may never come,” everyone else repeats solemnly.
And then we begin embracing each other, tighter even than we did when we first reunited. After all, Belcalis’s words are a reminder of exactly what we stand to lose if the world falls apart.
Each other.
Dinner in Ilarong is a simple, hurried affair: braised meats heaped on top of a greenish but surprisingly delicious sprouted grain, the odd fruit or two. Since the aviax are bird folk, their tastes only barely overlap with ours and the equus’. This fare is the best they can provide to suit our palates, although I suspect that dinner in the grand hall, where White Hands, Lord Kamanda, and all the aviax dignitaries are in attendance, is a much more stately affair. But neither I nor my friends accept that invitation when it comes. It’s bad enough we’re stale-smelling and unwashed, but we refuse to be so in a place where most everyone is clothed in feathers all the colors of the rainbow and so much jewelry, we have to shield our eyes whenever they pass. Not to mention we want to avoid the stares. Most aviax stare so pointedly, it’s as if they’ve never seen anyone not of their kind before, which is likely the case. From what I understand, only emissaries and other special designations ever leave aviax aeries; the rest remain close to their mountain cities.
I’m only grateful that they, like many species of birds, don’t seem to have a particularly strong sense of smell, or all that staring would have another meaning entirely.
After dinner, my friends and I follow Adwapa and Asha to the hot springs, which, as it turns out, sit on one of the mountain peaks overlooking the city.
“Ahhh,” Adwapa says blissfully the moment she sinks into the heated water. “This is the life.” She closes her eyes, settling in.
Like all the other girls, she’s wearing a thin loincloth and a chest covering for modesty, but given that we’ve all seen each other in various states of undress over the years, it’s mostly a formality.
Mehrut swiftly curls up by her side, snuggling as close as she can get, then she closes her eyes too. I do the same with Keita, who lifts his arm so I can lay my head on his chest.
“You are very correct,” Li says, making himself comfortable beside us. “This is how we should be living.”
Deka…Ixa agrees, though only I can hear him. He’s already fully submerged in the hot water, only his nostrils poking out above it. He makes a happy gurgling sound. Turns out he enjoys hot water just as much as he enjoys cold.
Who knew?
Britta rests her head on Li’s shoulder. “You know, for once, I agree completely with you and Adwapa. This is perfection,” she says happily, grinning up at him.
I glance at her. “Are you telling me you’re actually happy with this heat?” I ask, my eyebrows raising almost to my hairline.
Britta is the most heat-sensitive person I know. The least bit of sunlight and she starts complaining; woe betide everyone if she’s on her menses as well. You’ll never hear the end of it.
But to my surprise, she gives me an arch look. “We have hot springs in Golma,” she sniffs. “The heat from them even comes up under our huts. Just how do ye think we stay warm in the brutal cold?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I just assumed you put on more furs or something.”
Adwapa squints at me. “And what about you, aren’t you boiling in that thing?”
She’s referring to Ayo’s armor, which I’m still wearing even now, since I know that if I take it off for even seconds, I risk depleting what remains of my kelai should any danger arise.
I shake my head. “It’s not that bad,” I say. “Feels like a second skin almost. Besides, ebiki are aquatic animals. This is meant to be in the water.”
“But wha about the dirt?” Britta wrinkles her nose.
I glance down. “Seems to be self-cleaning.”
That’s the strange thing I’ve noticed: while my face, hair, hands, and feet may have been dirtied by our travels, the rest of me has remained clean ever since I put on the armor. I can only assume that is because the armor does such a wonderful job of keeping everything out.
I’ll take it off eventually. But after everything that’s happening is over. And I’ve killed the gods of Otera and danced on their metaphorical skulls.
“Convenient, that,” Belcalis says. Then she glances at the rest of the group. “So, any hope about these negotiations? Not much seems to be happening outside talking in circles, from what I’ve seen.”
Trust Belcalis to be in a place less than half a day and already have the measure of things.
“I’m meant to join White Hands in negotiations starting tomorrow,” I say. Earlier, I explained this to the group, as well as White Hands’s determination that we remain here while her spies watch the Idugu’s followers’ movements, but Belcalis was clearly too busy observing the comings and goings around us to take note.
“Here’s hoping they’re willing to listen to you,” she says. “These bird folk don’t seem very welcoming to outsiders.”
Katya shrugs from her corner of the hot spring, which she dominates entirely by herself. “I don’t know, the aviax have seemed very hospitable since yesterday.”
“But that’s due to all the gold Lord and Lady Kamanda brought to smooth the talks,” Adwapa says.
“And to protect his children,” Asha adds.
When I glance at them, confused, Adwapa replies: “Lord Kamanda was adamant about being the ambassador here, because this is one of the highest peaks in Otera. After all, if fighting breaks out soon—”
“Which it will,” I remind quietly.
“—his children will be safe here.”
“Wily,” Acalan says, nodding his approval. “Everything about that man is wily, even though he doesn’t overtly seem that way. It’s astounding, honestly. I mean, you should have seen the way he charmed them with the gold. Brought almost his entire fortune to woo them. Birds and money, who would have thought.” Acalan has a faraway look in his eyes now, one I’ve seen in my friends several times before.
Keita and I share a look. Acalan has finally found a passion for something other than old scrolls. It’s just unfortunate that what Lord Kamanda is looking for is the exact opposite of a slim young man with an intellectual air.
Li stares at Acalan for a moment, then raises his eyebrows dramatically. “Astounding,” he coos suggestively. “Oh, Lord Kamanda, you’re so astounding. Will you be my commander and tell me what to do? Oh, Lord Kamaaandaaa…”
Acalan turns bright red. “That’s not what I was—I mean, I don’t—”
But Li is enraptured with his new game. He pretends to swoon against Britta. “Oh, Lord Kamanda, hold me, touch me.”
And now Britta’s in on the game as well. “I’ll hold ye, I’ll touch ye.” She giggles, the sound so loud, Adwapa turns from her to Li.
“It’s finally come.” Adwapa sighs, shaking her head. “The day we’ve all feared.”
“An’ which day is that?” Britta asks, straightening.
But Adwapa turns to the rest of the group. “They’re together so often, they’re actually turning into each other. They’ve become—the same person!”
As she shakes her head again, I nod sagely. “It’s dire, but we knew it had to happen.”
Britta scowls. “Not ye too, Deka.”
But I continue, unbothered. “Li’s personality is so strong—too strong. His contagion cannot be denied.”
Rolling her eyes, Britta turns to Li, and then they promptly fall over each other, giggling like fools. “Hold me, touch me,” they coo as Acalan’s blush turns deeper and deeper red.
A hand pulls me closer. Keita’s. He grins down at me, his expression so similar to my own, my heart nearly bursts. “See, Deka,” he whispers into my ear. “Home.”
And to think that once I was a lonely girl who had no one. Now I have all these wonderful people. This wonderful family. I could fall into my worries, my fears, about what’s happening with my kelai and the battles that are about to come, but I choose instead to remain in the present.
I nod at Keita, placing a small, quiet kiss on his chest. “Yes,” I whisper. “It’s nice to be home.”