Page 26 of The Merciless Ones
Keita’s breath gusts through my hair as he squeezes me tighter. “It’s just there, just beyond the temple. I could ride Ixa to it in less than an hour if I wished. But every time I near it, I have this choking feeling, like a heaviness in my chest, and then I turn back,” he whispers raggedly. “I always turn back…”
There’s such pain in his voice.
“Oh, Keita, why didn’t you tell me?” I ask sadly, looking up into his eyes. I never knew this. There’s so much about Keita I don’t know. Every time I think I’ve peeled back enough layers, another emerges.
“Because you’ve had to deal with so much these past few months. Being the Nuru, being everything everyone wants you to be – the commanders, the mothers. I didn’t want to add to your burden, and also, to be honest…I didn’t want you to know.”
The words pierce me as sharply as a dagger. “Why? Did I do something?” I ask, hurt.
“No.” He hurriedly shakes his head. “Nothing like that. It’s just…” He glances away, sighs. “You’re so strong, Deka. Not just physically – emotionally. You, Belcalis, the others. You’ve all endured so much, and yet, when the pain comes, you just breathe past it and then you continue. You always continue. I wanted to be that way too.”
“But I’m not strong,” I reply, shaking my head. “I collapse at every opportunity, cry at every little thing.”
“And then you get up and you move on, stronger than before.” His eyes peer into mine. “When I was a recruit, they told us that jatu don’t feel pain. That we were automatons – iron made flesh. No feelings, no thoughts, no emotions. That was what made us strong, they said. I believed it for years. Locked every single feeling up inside me. Every rebellious thought. Then I met you and Britta and the others, and I realized I could be different.
“I know you want to share my pain, Deka, but for right now, let me have it. Let me feel it, for once, instead of pretending it doesn’t exist.”
I open my mouth to protest, but he shakes his head. “Please don’t argue – not about this. I have to learn, Deka. I’ve spent so many years not feeling… Let me learn how not to be an automaton. Let me learn how to be a man.”
I nod, sigh. “All right.” I place my hands on his. “I’m grateful you were honest with me. I know how much it took for you to say those words.”
“I didn’t want you to feel like you’re alone, like you’re the only one struggling. All of us here are doing the same – even her.” He nudges his chin towards the path Melanis took.
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“Her hands were shaking, did you notice that?” he says. “For all her brave words, just saying those things to you had her trembling. That’s likely why she fled. She can pretend all she wants, but she’s probably struggling harder than the rest of us. Her pain, it’s right there. You don’t have to look too deeply to see it.”
I think of the way Belcalis was staring at her earlier. Was that what she was noticing? She’s always quick to spot the inconsistencies in people. I have to learn from her, be more perceptive, pay more attention. If I’m going to be a better leader, I have to know what’s happening around me.
“I’ll watch her carefully,” I say.
“But not too much,” Keita reminds me. “We have more important things to concern us.” He nods at the distance, where light is breaking through the trees.
Zhúshan castle. Our destination.
As he nods, I lean over, kiss his cheek. “Thank you,” I say.
“For what?”
“For being there. For listening to me.”
He waggles his brows, back to being easy-going. “That’s what husbands do, and I promised to husband you hard this entire journey.”
A blush warms me when I understand the double meaning of his words. I look away, clear my throat. “All right,” I say. “Let’s assemble the others. Time to get moving.”
“Phew, would ye look at that set-up,” Britta says with a whistle as we ride towards Elder Kadiri’s camp.
It sprawls across a series of softly rolling hills, row upon row of tents sitting on the outskirts of a massive red castle, the edges of its multiple green rooftops curling upward like the flower petals on a trumpet vine. The mere sight of it deepens my anxiety, so I mentally tug at the bond connecting me with the mothers. When I feel a reassuring tug back, I return my attention to the scene laid out in front of me.
Crowds of people have gathered around the castle, most of them congregating around bonfires or ornately decorated paper lanterns, others mobbing the food stalls that have been set up at the edge of the forest. A few have even gathered around the large wooden platform just in front of the castle’s gates, although there’s nothing happening on it yet. They’re all wearing robes cut in the Eastern style, but the patterns on them are all distinctively Southern. Even stranger, their hair is teased into tight coils, except most people from the Eastern provinces are born with sleek, flowing hair. Watching them, it’s immediately clear: Zhúshan may be in the very centre of the Eastern provinces, but Hemaira’s influence holds firm here.
Thankfully, there’s no sign of that jatu symbol – the one I’ve spent the past few weeks strengthening myself against. I still know very little about it, other than the fact that it blocks my abilities. I tried to find out more about its origins, but none of the Firstborn recognize it, and the mothers have been so busy the past few weeks strengthening themselves and making plans for Otera’s future, I didn’t want to waste their precious time asking any more questions about an arcane object than necessary.
“There are so many people,” Melanis says, wide eyes drinking in the scene as Keita rolls the wagon to a stop on a grassy hill at the very edge of the forest.
While there are three windows in the interior of the wagon – one at each of the sides and a large central one just above the front seat – there’s a much better view outside than in, which is why Melanis is now squeezed in between Keita and me just like the busybody grandmother she’s pretending to be. I can’t imagine how this must feel for her, being among humans like this after so many millennia.
“Were there not as many people in your time?” I ask, curious.