Page 72 of The Merciless Ones
It’s always advisable to verify these things.
Karmoko Huon blinks. “If the plan was storming the cavern where they’re holding the alaki, freeing them—”
Karmoko Thandiwe interjects: “—without letting the jatu there use the drums outside to call for reinforcements—”
“—and then regrouping and storming the Warthu Bera’s walls,” Karmoko Huon adds, “then that’s the one we’re going with. Simple enough, isn’t it?”
I glance from one karmoko to the other. “Yes,” I say drily. “Very simple.”
And if we can achieve it all without significant loss of life and limb, it’ll be a miracle. But I keep that to myself as we continue.
The first thing I smell when I near the cavern holding our bloodsisters is the odour of blood and fire. It assaults my nostrils, abruptly causing memories from the cellar to rise: the elders, the gold. Cold sweat drips down my back, but before my body starts to shake, I inhale to steel myself. I am in control of my body, not my memories. I am in control… I’ve been through so much the past few days, survived so much already, I won’t let my memories take control of me any longer. I won’t.
Deka? This worried chirp comes from Ixa, and when he nuzzles his cold snout against my neck, I pet him gratefully. Just his weight is helping me remain in the present, in my body.
Thanks, Ixa, I say, embracing him.
Keita notices. “Concerned about your friends?” he asks, moving closer so we’re walking side by side. “Or is it the smell – the fire?” There’s an odd look in his eyes when he says this last bit.
“Both,” I reply. Then I ask, concerned. “You all right, Keita? You seem…preoccupied…”
“I’m just worried about my friends. The ones who remained.”
Not all the uruni decided to join us at the Temple of the Gilded Ones. Some of them – many of them, in fact – were unwilling to give up their allegiance to Otera, despite everything they’d seen. The privileges they had were just too much to sacrifice. They joined the rest of the jatu during the retreat back to Hemaira. Thankfully, most of Keita’s closest friends are the other uruni in our group. As far as I know, he has only two friends left at the Warthu Bera.
“I know that Chernor and Ashok are our enemies now,” he continues, referring to them. “Nevertheless, I—”
I squeeze his hand in commiseration. “I wouldn’t want to cross swords with Britta or Belcalis or the twins either.”
“Perhaps I’m worried about nothing,” he says with a shrug. “They could have been assigned elsewhere. They could have left. I mean, I didn’t recognize any of the voices chasing Gazal… But, truthfully, that’s not the only thing that’s bothering me.” Now, he gives me an odd sideways look. “Remember those dreams I told you about?”
“The ones where you burn?” I nod.
He gazes towards the end of the tunnel, where orange flickers on the wall, the reflection of distant flames. “It’s like I want to go to it – the fire,” he whispers. “Like I need to be near it.”
Something about his tone surfaces a memory, one I had only briefly pondered before: when we had the funeral for Father and Elfriede, Keita stared so intently into the flames, for a moment it looked like there was fire burning in his eyes.
It’s the same look now when he stares at me, his golden eyes gleaming in the darkness. “Why do you think that is, Deka?” he asks softly. “Why is it that I feel like I should burn in the Fires?”
The question lingers in the air, dark and haunting, until a soft footstep sounds behind me: Karmoko Thandiwe. “We’re here,” they say, nodding at that distant orange glow. “Prepare yourselves.”
At least three contingents of jatu stand guard at the entrance to the next cavern, which is so massive, it stretches on until darkness obscures its furthest reaches. Even from our hiding place in the tunnel, we can see them: almost sixty men in total, all elbow to elbow, their weapons gleaming in the dark, gloomy space that was once one of the prisons for the Warthu Bera’s deathshrieks. Behind them are stone cells full of alaki, a warren of thick glass pipes snaking around each. Anger rises in me, hot and blistering, when I see the gold being funnelled through those pipes, which are all headed in one direction, just as Karmoko Huon warned: the forge in the neighbouring cavern.
Now I understand why this place smells so strongly of death and decay, why the girls haven’t just banded together to tear their chains from the walls. They’ve been bled to the edge of death and back. Many of them are in the gilded sleep right now, their unconscious bodies gleaming like golden statues in the dim light.
I turn to the others, red hazing my vision. Ixa is bristling beside me in his massive true form, the tension in his body reflecting my anger, so I command him first. “Take them down, Ixa!” I say out loud, my lips curling in disgust when the jatu immediately unsheathe their swords in preparation.
Deka! Ixa agrees, barrelling through the first line.
As he bats aside men like dolls, I turn to the karmokos. “Go silence the jatu in the forges. We’ll clear your path. You six, aid them!” I shout to the uruni and deathshrieks. “Ensure that the jatu don’t get near the drums!”
“Yes, Nuru!” Acalan replies, he and the others rushing through the opening Ixa’s created.
I return my focus to the jatu in front of me, my fury rising higher and higher. These are the men who brutalized and bled my bloodsisters, who did Infinity knows what else when they had them under their power. They’ll all fall under my atikas today. I rush towards them, moving so quickly, it’s like I’m pinching portions of the air together so I can shorten the distance between us. Everything seems slow now – the jatu running at me, their weapons… I cleave through two jatu with one swing, then whirl to stab the next one in the gut, my blades cutting through bodies so swiftly, blood sprays the air like mist. I glory in the colour, take comfort in how much red slicks down my blades.
Red means I’m doing something: I’m enacting vengeance, making the world just a little better.
Realizing how fast I’m moving, the men spread out, trying to create distance between us. A few even begin running, trying to hide at the very edges of the cavern. It’s a futile effort. I push harder, moving faster and faster until finally, the last jatu falls under my blade.