Page 55 of The Merciless Ones
I struggle upright and turn to him, panic rising. “I heard him – Idugu,” I whisper. “He spoke to me, and he’s real, Keita. He’s a real god. A full god, just like the mothers. Only, Elder Kadiri is gone now, so what do we do?”
Keita doesn’t seem to hear any of this except for one thing: “He spoke to you? Idugu – he spoke to you?” He almost manages to seem calm as he says these words, but that’s what he was trained to do. This calmness, this inability to be ruffled, is a core part of what jatu teach their recruits, and I’m grateful for it, because I’m breaking, splintering apart.
“What did he say?” he asks.
A frown crosses my brow as I remember. “He thanked me.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know.” And that’s the thing that bothers me. What reason would he have to thank me? And why would he thank me there, in that alley filled with blood and—
I close my eyes as memories abruptly rise of Father, Elfriede… I can see them clearly now, see their bodies lying there – dead. A deep, keening wail threatens to pour out, but I can’t fall apart – not now, when everything is so dire, when everything I thought I knew is once again crumbling.
Who will put me back together if I do? Who will repair me after all the ways I’ve been broken by this night? Sobs begin to rise in my throat, until the sound of footsteps forces me to swallow them back down.
The cloaked woman is walking over, leaving that strange boy at the helm, his brown eyes filled with anxiety as he watches over the river cows, even though the gigantic bovine creatures seem to know exactly where they’re going.
“Honoured Nuru,” the woman says, pulling off her cloak and mask. “It seems you have had quite the evening…”
I turn back to her, startled to find she doesn’t look anything like I expected. She’s not as fat as I’d imagined, for one thing. While she’s definitely plump, most of her bulk comes from her massively pregnant stomach, which she carries with ease on her tall, thick frame. Her skin, what I can see of it in the darkness, is the light reddish-brown of the upper Southern provinces, and her curly hair is elaborately coiled with gold thread. She’s a noblewoman. I’ve seen enough of them from a distance to tell.
She pats her stomach once she notices me staring, her round face spreading into a merry smile. “Seven months,” she says ruefully. “They must be boys – I already have twin girls, and they were never this big.”
She walks closer to me. “I’m so happy to meet you, Nuru Deka, although these are not the circumstances in which I would have liked to make your acquaintance. I am Maimuna, Lady Kamanda, of the House of Kamanda,” she says, the words pricking at something inside me. A memory – although I’m not sure of what.
I nod, since it’s the only thing I can do. I’m so tired now, so very, very tired. “A pleasure,” I say quietly, though I don’t mean it.
As Lady Kamanda nods, Karmoko Thandiwe comes forward, puts her arm around her. She’s holding her tight, the way Keita always holds me, and immediately, I understand: they’re lovers.
Karmoko Thandiwe kisses Lady Kamanda softly on her forehead, then turns to me. “That body in the alley, the one covered with the cloak, that was your father, was it not?” she says, the words twisting into me like a knife.
I nod, my body shaking again. “He’s dead,” I whisper. “He’s gone – my father’s gone.” Even when I say the words, they don’t seem true.
“Oh, Deka,” Keita says, wrapping his arms tighter around me, the scratchy cloth of his stolen robes scraping against mine.
He tucks my head under his, so his chin bristles against my forehead.
That’s all it takes. I burst into big, painful sobs, my body collapsing from the force of them. Keita holds on to me as I sob and sob and sob, the truth finally taking hold. Father is gone, and he’s never coming back. Never again will he swing me up into his arms, ruffle my hair. Never again will he tell me that I’m his sweet girl. He’s disappeared, vanished to a place I cannot reach because I’m immortal – unending.
I’ll never see him again.
“Shhh, shhh, hush now, Deka,” Keita croons in my ear as I cry. “Hush now, my sweet one.”
His voice is a soothing vibration, a cocoon of warmth that wraps around me, blocking out the pain, the horror, of the last few hours, the last few days. I rest my face on his neck, inhaling his familiar scent, lulling myself with the slow rhythm of his heart, and before I know it, my eyes are closing, darkness taking over.
And then I’m asleep.
When I open my eyes again, it’s late at night. A warm river breeze is lightly ruffling my hair, and an even warmer weight is coiled around me: Ixa, his liquid black eyes gazing into my own, his enormous true form circling mine.
Deka? he whispers, those eyes filled with concern.
I’m all right, I reply, just sad.
Sad…? Ixa croons.
I nod. It’s been a very sad day. Can I hold you?
Deka, he agrees, his body shrinking as he changes into his kitten form. He nuzzles into my shoulder, chirping when I scratch him behind the ears.