Page 14 of The Merciless Ones

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Page 14 of The Merciless Ones

“Indeed.” Gentle Mother Beda, the quietest of the goddesses, inclines her icy-pale brow, her wings scattering flurries around her. They’re almost identical to Melanis’s, those wings – as are all her other features, I’m just now noticing. In fact, she and the Firstborn would almost be identical except that she is so voluptuous, rolls of fat seductively pad her ample figure, unlike Melanis, who is lithe and thin. Then there’s the matter of Melanis’s skin, which is the same golden brown as Mother Etzli’s.

Most Firstborn favour one goddess over the rest – White Hands is very clearly Anok’s child, for instance – but there are a few who resemble two or more of the Gilded Ones. Melanis clearly falls into this group. I, on the other hand, very much resemble Anok, but then, my original mother, Umu – the alaki who served as a vessel to birth me – is her direct descendant.

“Why now?” I ask, pulling my eyes away from Mother Beda. “Why have I never heard of the angoro before? If it has so much power, why is it only emerging at this moment?” And why are the mothers only worrying about it now?

I don’t voice this last question, as it veers much too closely to disrespect. Besides, I’d never want the goddesses to think I was doubting them.

“We had hoped it had faded in power over the centuries, that it had faded into nothingness,” Etzli says. “But then you defeated the emperor and imprisoned him here. The angoro must have awakened as a result.”

I whirl towards her, horrified. “I caused this?”

“No.” Anok leans in, shaking her head. “You are not to blame. The angoro is only working as it is designed to. It is a safeguard that emerges when the Hemairan bloodline is absent from Hemaira for a certain length of time. Usually, only a few weeks. But months had passed, and nothing had happened…”

I frown, still trying to understand. “So what you’re saying is that when I brought the emperor here—”

“Keeping him from sitting on the throne of Otera—”

“The angoro began siphoning your power?”

The goddesses nod as one. “It is draining us,” they intone. “And it will not stop until we are no more.”

“No more…” The words come out of me in a gasp. “You mean, dead?” I can’t even fathom the possibility.

Anok shakes her head. “Gods cannot die, but we can fall into oblivion,” she explains. “Become scatterings of mindless energy rather than sentient beings. It would take hundreds of years, but the end result would be the same.”

“And it’s already started happening, our descent into nothingness,” Hui Li says. “Look at how weak we are. We cannot even free our own children.”

I sink to my knees, numb now. All this time, I’d assumed that the mothers’ weakened state was due to having been imprisoned here for so long, starved of prayers for so many centuries. But I caused this. I was so intent on defeating the emperor, severing his power in Hemaira, that I did not think of the consequences. I’m responsible for the mothers’ continued weakness, for their inability to tear down the walls of Hemaira and free our sisters.

A sob chokes me. I’m responsible for all those girls suffering in the Warthu Bera. All those women suffering all across Otera.

“You must find the angoro and bring it to us,” Beda says, continuing where Hui Li left off. “It is of the utmost importance. Not only does it prevent us from regaining our full power; it will drain us dry if desperate measures aren’t taken. Once it does, the jatu won’t just have rumours of a false god; they’ll create one using our power.”

By now the air is so thick, it’s a weight pressing down on my shoulders. I nod, my throat raw as I whisper: “What do I do, Divine Mothers? How do I stop it?”

Four heads turn to me as one. “Capture Elder Kadiri, but do not assassinate him immediately. You’ll need to question him first. As Hemairan high priest, he is keeper of all the jatu secrets. He will know the location of the angoro’s wielder, whoever he may be. Once you find him, kill him and bring the angoro to us. You’ll know what it is the moment you look upon it. Your blood will guide you.”

“And what happens if I cannot kill the wielder?” It’s an unpleasant question but one I have to ask. “If the angoro is truly harnessing your power, I may not be able to beat whoever is using it.”

“You will. You already have our aid.” Anok rises, presses a finger the absolute blackness of midnight to my ansetha necklace. “This necklace is made of our blood, our love; it binds you to us, a tether. If ever you face the angoro’s wielder, merely think of us as you hold it, and we will imbue you with our strength and power.”

This offer is beyond anything I ever expected. I prostrate myself, body flat on the floor. “I am not worthy of such love, Divine Mothers.”

“And yet, it is yours.” A soft, cool white hand lifts my head up. Beda’s. “A word of warning, our beloved child. The angoro lies, and its user will show you things – memories that seem like the truth.”

The memory I saw in Melanis’s mind flashes past, and I gasp. So that’s what that was. And here I was just about to ask the mothers about it. Then I have another thought. “What about my commands? The jatu we faced did not heed them. Was that the angoro’s influence as well? Or was it this?” Closing my eyes, I unwrap the jatu breastplate once more and place it at Anok’s feet, turning away when she gestures and it begins to float towards her.

I don’t want it to influence me any more.

Some moments pass: then I hear a strange rustling. I glance up to see the cloth at my feet flapping up to wrap itself around the breastplate. Once it’s fully covered, Beda plucks the breastplate out of the air and hands it to me. “It is as you suspect: this is another arcane object, one with much less power than the angoro. It is designed to block your connection to us, to the divine. You will have to learn how to overcome it.”

I frown. “But how will I—”

“You are the Nuru,” the goddesses suddenly intone together. “Flesh of our flesh, blood of our blood. You will overcome it.” Just like that, gold is spreading over their bodies once more. Then they’re fast asleep, dreaming of a better Otera.

I glance down at the ansetha necklace, all those stars sparkling across my chest. “Overcome it.” I sigh. “And just how do I do that?”

“So, what did they say?”




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