Page 54 of The Merciless Ones
As I stand there, in shock, Elder Kadiri’s swiftly follows suit, his blue skin glimmering in the moonlight. By the time Karmoko Thandiwe steps forward, palming the circular blade she’s used for both executions, my ears are ringing and my heart feels like it will burst out of my chest. I double over to vomit, not able to fully register the shock I feel at seeing the tall, muscular Southern karmoko alive and well for the first time in months.
Karmoko Thandiwe tsks as she glances down at Elder Kadiri and Elfriede’s heads. “I couldn’t stand to hear another word of her bile,” she says, irritated. “What a wretched, miserable girl. And he was even worse, so puffed up with righteousness.”
She clicks her tongue in disgust again.
I wipe my lips clean. “Karmoko Thandiwe?” I whisper, stunned.
The karmoko approaches, her dark brown body gleaming in the rapidly falling darkness, and she’s not alone. There, accompanying her, are Keita and my other friends, as well as two people I don’t know: a plain, earnest-looking Northern boy, with a shock of white hair interrupting the otherwise stark black, and what appears to be an extravagantly fat woman in a simple wooden mask and a black cloak. A small boat waits on the river behind them, the two river cows pulling it lowing their annoyance. River cows are daytime creatures – they hate travelling at night.
“Deka of Irfut,” my former battle-strategy karmoko says, glancing with approval at the carnage around the alley. “Splendid work here – beautifully done – although we should continue onward soon before the Forsworn make their way back here.”
“Come on, Deka,” Keita says, reaching for me.
But I just keep staring at Karmoko Thandiwe, still in a daze. Try as I might, I can’t gather my thoughts. Can’t force them into any sort of cohesion. “But I don’t understand,” I say numbly. “Karmoko Thandiwe, how are you – I mean, you came and Elfriede and—”
My entire body is shaking now, and whenever I turn, I see Elfriede, headless. She’s lying on the ground, same as Father, both of them dead in one day. So much death around me.
“I, I—” My body is trembling so hard now, it’s all I can do to remain standing.
As my legs collapse, muscular arms enfold me, holding me tight. “It’s all right, Deka,” Keita whispers, kissing my forehead. “It’s all right…” He swings me up into his arms.
But as he and the others turn back to the boat, a strange cracking noise begins behind us. A sinisterly familiar one.
“Erm…are you lot seeing this?”
Britta’s voice is low with dread, and when Keita turns with me in his arms, she points towards her feet, where one of the jatu bodies is twitching, the tendrils of flesh in his severed stomach creeping towards each other while the bones snap into place. More cracking sounds rise, and we swiftly see the other corpses doing the same, the kaduth shining on their breastplates as their bodies turn golden and the blood pouring out of them takes on that distinctive sheen. It’s almost as if the symbol is spurring the change – resurrecting them.
Just as it did back at the Oyomosin.
Understanding slams into me – the kaduth isn’t just to stymie my abilities; it has another purpose as well. It allows its wearer to resurrect if they experience a death that isn’t their final one. It allows jatu to become immortal, just like alaki.
“Death masks,” Acalan whispers, horrified. “They’re all wearing death masks. They all came ready to die.”
The purest worship is sacrifice… Elder Kadiri’s words from earlier surge into my mind, as does something else – an eerie sound that is somehow both a deep rumble and a frightening whisper.
Laughter. Male laughter. And I’m the only one who can hear it, if the expressions of the others are any indication. That feeling of oily malevolence sweeps over me – the same one I felt when I was staring at the kaduth on that platform.
“Idugu…” I whisper, horrified.
Our deepest thanks, Nuru Deka… the deity says in the mocking rumble of a thousand male voices intertwined. And then I feel it, the power gathering in the air.
When tears in the air above the alley begin to appear, I turn to the others.
“Run!”
Keita and the others begin running just as the Forsworn burst out of Idugu’s doors, their clawed feet skittering over the blood and gore. The ground is so slippery now, the purple deathshrieks can’t find any purchase, so they swiftly take to the walls, the lighter-coloured leapers, those deathshrieks that usually jump down from trees to claw apart their victims, in the lead. The jatu-leader deathshriek spurs them on, an unholy gleam in his eyes which deepens when they meet mine. He glances down at Ixa, now curled around my neck, and smirks, then points a sword in my and Keita’s direction, his intention clear: you’re next. Thankfully, my group is already charging onto the boat, Keita carrying me as fast as his feet allow. We swiftly board, and within moments, that boy with the white streak in his hair and Katya are pulling up the anchor.
Once everyone is on board, the cloaked woman calls sharply to her impatient river cows, which are attached to the boat by enormous iron chains. “Yakuba, Manty – onward!”
The water churns as the iridescent purple creatures plunge into it, their massive flippers swiftly cutting through the water, their blubbery bodies rippling easily through the darkness. The Forsworn plunge into the water after us, but it’s too late. Deathshrieks may be strong swimmers, but even they can’t beat river cows in their natural element. And they certainly can’t fight them and swim at the same time. Aggressive lows rise into the air as the other river cows in the area converge, intent on driving out the intruders so rudely disturbing their rest. Once they completely circle the Forsworn, I slump against Keita’s chest, relieved. I’m grateful to be away from that alley, grateful to be away from that awful, awful laughter.
“Idugu,” I whisper, stunned, once I catch my breath.
I still can’t believe he actually spoke. All this time, he’s been an amorphous presence, but now, I’ve heard his voice, felt his inhuman intelligence. Now, I’m certain: he’s not an arcane object – not by any stretch of the imagination. He’s an actual, true god, and he has almost as much power as the mothers. Enough power to raise the jatu from the dead, apparently.
A distant anger burns my chest. All this time, the mothers have told me they were the only gods, that the Infinite Wisdoms were lies. But they were the liars, they were the ones who deceived me, and I can’t even reach out to them here, can’t rage at them the way I want to. Idugu’s influence stretches across Hemaira, so the only thing I can do is hope that wherever this boat is taking us, it’s to a place where I can be safe enough to regroup and plot out my next few steps, now that Elder Kadiri, the entire reason we came on this gods-forsaken mission in the first place, is dead.
A movement ripples at my back. Keita. “Deka, are you all right?” he asks, looking down at me. He’s been holding me this entire time, his hands never letting me go.