Page 59 of The Merciless Ones
I nod and watch as Belcalis turns her gaze to Lord Kamanda.
“What about you?” she asks. “Why help us?”
He smiles lightly, seeming not the least bit intimidated by her glare, which can be the most threatening of our entire group. But then, he isn’t scared of the deathshrieks either, which tells me that for all his bright smiles and airy words, Lord Kamanda is a man whose depths we haven’t even begun to plumb.
“Just because I’m male doesn’t mean I don’t have a conscience, child,” he says. “Besides, my sort is only barely tolerated. Thanks to Maimuna, I am one of the wealthiest and most powerful men in Hemaira, but no amount of money or power can erase the fact that I prefer the company of men to women. Right now, everyone turns a blind eye, but should I step one foot out of line…well, you understand what happens to people like us, don’t you.”
Belcalis nods curtly. She’s very familiar with the horrors that can befall anyone who doesn’t fulfil the roles expected of them.
“Of course I would help. I have a heart, I feel. I empathize. I know how difficult it is to live in a world that doesn’t accept me. And I happen to have the privilege of being able to throw money at anything that distresses me. My house and purse are at your disposal.”
I nod to him gratefully. “My thanks,” I say, managing a smile when he nods back.
“So what’s the plan, then?” Keita asks, turning to Karmoko Thandiwe. “I assume you have one for freeing the Warthu Bera.”
They nod. “Of course. And Huon is currently gathering more information for us. But, you know, there are tunnels under the Warthu Bera. The jatu may have blocked them off, but I presume you’re still as strong as ever, Britta?” they say, glancing at my friend.
Britta grins. “Stronger, even.” She picks up a pebble from the floor, and I feel the quick jolt of power run through it. Both Lord and Lady Kamanda gasp when it thins into the shape of a dagger. “And now, I can command most forms of earth – stones especially.”
“Wonderful!” Karmoko Thandiwe claps. They don’t seem the least bit flustered by Britta’s new gift, but then, they’ve never been one to startle easily. “Well, then, shall we go over plans? We have very little time. The jatu know they are being sabotaged. They’re intent on routing the saboteurs.”
They turn to me, but I begin to nod off: a wave of tiredness is crashing over me, so powerful, I can’t imagine sitting here another minute. “Can you inform me of what you discuss tomorrow?” I ask, rising. “I need to rest.”
“Of course,” Lord Kamanda says, hurriedly moving away from the table as well. His golden chair whirs towards the doors. “I’ll show you to your room.”
Keita follows behind us. “I’ll help,” he says.
I shake my head. “No, stay, eat. Discuss.”
Keita shakes his head. “I’m not leaving you alone,” he says firmly. “Not in your state. I’m coming.”
“Us too,” Asha and Adwapa say together.
“Then why don’t we all rest?” Lady Kamanda concludes, rising. “We can continue our conversations over the next few days. A mission such as ours takes careful planning.”
“Indeed,” Lord Kamanda agrees, nodding. “I’ll have the servants send food to your rooms.”
“Thank you,” I reply, relieved, but as I walk out the door, I notice something strange: Katya is standing behind us, a look of longing in her eyes as she stares at that quiet boy with the streak in his hair.
Even stranger, he’s staring at her too.
When I wake, it’s late the next afternoon, and the sunlight is a dull orange as it filters through the windows of my bedchamber. I’m still consumed by exhaustion, so I remain in the enormous bed, staring at Mother’s necklace while Ixa snores gently by my side. I hold up the delicate golden chain to the light, tears prickling my eyes when I see it’s just as I remembered: a thin gold strand with the faded symbol of the eclipse, its rays transformed into daggers, imprinted on the finely wrought golden orb dangling from it. I discovered the significance of that symbol when I was at the Warthu Bera. It’s the umbra: the emblem of the Shadows, the spies of the former emperor, Gezo. Mother trained as a Shadow from the time she was a child – practised their arts until her blood ran gold at age sixteen and White Hands took her on as an assistant, protecting her from being discovered.
Such an extraordinary life, and yet, this necklace is all that remains of her – of both my birth parents. They flitted from this world as easily as a breeze, leaving only myself and a few others to remember them by. Thinking about it makes that awful heaviness crush my chest, and suddenly, it’s all I can do to breathe. My shoulders heave, lungs struggling to take in air. I barely hear the knocking at the door until Keita rushes in, alarmed by the harsh sounds I’m making.
“It’s all right, it’s all right,” he soothes, quickly enfolding me. “Breathe in and out, Deka, slowly in and out.”
He demonstrates, one slow breath after the other, and I follow along, trying to wrest enough air into my lungs.
“Yes, just like that,” he says as the tears stream down my face like tiny rivers.
I wipe angrily at them, disgusted with myself. Why am I still crying? I was supposed to wake up already reconciled to Father’s death, and Mother’s wasn’t even supposed to be a consideration any more. I’ve already dealt with it twice before: first, when I was back in Irfut and I thought she’d died of the red pox, and then when I discovered the truth – that she’d faked her own death to ensure that I was rescued before I went through the Ritual of Purity, but was discovered by the jatu and sentenced to the Death Mandate.
“I don’t even know why I’m crying,” I sniffle, turning to Keita. “I’d already lost him once. It’s just…he apologized, Keita. He said he loved me, that he was sorry for what he did. He said he was sorry…”
I’m hiccupping now, I’m crying so hard. “I know I have four mothers left, but I—”
Keita pulls my head onto his shoulder. His warmth seeps into my skin, driving away just a little bit of that choked, desperate feeling. “The goddesses may be your mothers, but they didn’t hold you in their arms when you were a baby, kiss your scraped knee when you fell. They can’t replace the parents you had before, and nor should you expect them to.”