Page 88 of The Merciless Ones
“Wha’s happenin’?” Britta asks, disoriented.
I glance over to find her covered in a fine sheen of sweat… and gold. Its source is Li, who’s on her lap, covered in it – as are Acalan, Kweku and Lamin when I look. Confusion roils me. They’re all going into the gilded sleep, but that doesn’t make sense. They’re all human. They’re all mortal. I looked inside Keita and I saw mortality. That’s all I saw when I looked inside him.
But is it possible I stopped looking too soon?
The question stops me in my tracks, until a voice sounds in answer to Britta’s question. “It’s Deka, you know. She’s the one who did it.”
I glance up to find Elder Kadiri still standing in the middle of the room, Keita’s blood on his claws, that awful fanatic gleam in his eyes.
Worse, he’s not alone. An entire army of jatu and deathshrieks stand behind him now, their swords at the ready, the kaduths on their breastplates throbbing violently. My head pounds only mildly in response, but the sweat keeps streaming down my forehead. Keita’s temperature is rising by the second, only I don’t have any more time to ask why – not with the jatu and Forsworn here, their lethal intent clear from their battle stances, their raised swords and sharpened claws. I know what they want, the reason they’re here: they’re here to kill us, to ensure that we never leave this temple masquerading as a chamber.
Elder Kadiri lifts his claws, their edges still dripping with Keita’s blood. He beckons to a nearby jatu, who swiftly walks over and kneels in front of him. “Watch closely, Deka,” he says, clacking those hateful claws together. “It’s time you understood. It’s always been you, just as Idugu said. Always you. You are the angoro, the golden throne, the source of power. The Gilded Ones sent you here, collared like a base animal, so you would slay Idugu, but He, in His wisdom, disrupted their power. Gave you your freedom. Look closely, Deka. Your so-called mothers wanted to use you to engineer death, but we will use your power to bring forth life. I offer you this sacrifice in your name, Deka.”
He stabs his compatriot straight through the throat.
My body turns cold, and I watch, stunned, as blood pours out – that familiar, hateful red – only, as I stare, it swiftly changes to a golden sheen, the same thing that’s happening with Keita and Li and the other boys. But unlike before, I can’t stand by and just watch. I can’t let another jatu become conditionally immortal, like my friends are.
I force myself to lift my hands. No matter what’s happening around me, I can’t let that jatu, Elder Kadiri, or anyone else here gain enough power to hurt my friends, the people I love.
“Stand down,” I say, threading as much power as I can through the command.
Not a single jatu moves.
The only motion I feel is the one coming from my lap. Keita is stirring, but that’s the worst thing that could happen, because he’s waking up here – to a roomful of jatu who aren’t affected by my commands.
Elder Kadiri smiles beatifically. “You should know better than to try to use your voice, Nuru. We are protected by Idugu’s mark.” He raps the kaduth on the resurrecting jatu’s breastplate. “That particular ability of yours has no power here, and soon, all your friends will be dead and gone. You will have no more distractions to pull you from the path that has been set out for you.”
“Not if I have anythin’ to say about it, ye sneaky pissfart.” Britta’s rising now, murder in her eyes.
Elder Kadiri barely glances at her. “And what are you going to do, alaki?” he scoffs, unimpressed.
“This.”
Britta gestures, and the ground buckles, sending Elder Kadiri and his followers flying. He swiftly twists mid-air, landing on his feet, but a few jatu slump against the wall, dead on impact. Others have broken arms and legs. I just watch, grim. This is exactly what they deserve.
“End her! End her now!” one of the jatu rages behind him. A commander.
Those jatu and deathshrieks still capable of movement rush towards Britta, but she gestures again. This time, however, the floor only barely moves. Frustrated, she tries again. Nothing.
I rush over to her, panicked. I forgot she hasn’t had enough rest after her last display of power.
The commander who spoke before notices. “She’s running out of power – kill her!” he shouts.
Nodding, the nearest Forsworn lunge for her. Only to erupt into pillars of flame.
As I whirl around, stunned, Keita rises from the ground, flames leaping from his eyes, as hot as the ones now engulfing the jatu around me. It’s almost as if he’s become Alagba, the spirit that supposedly punishes the wicked in the Afterlands. The more jatu who burn, the more flames that erupt from under Keita’s skin, only they aren’t burning him. His skin isn’t peeling and curling, and there’s none of that awful smell that accompanies an immolation. He’s fine – better than fine, in fact.
He’s filled with power.
“Keita?” I whisper, unable to believe what I’m seeing.
I don’t understand how all this is possible. One moment, he was dead, but now, he’s alive and he’s able to control fire? What’s happening? Something’s happening, but I still don’t understand.
I’m not the only one who’s stunned. “What’s the meaning of this?” Elder Kadiri roars. “What’s happening?”
“A divine gift,” Keita replies, his voice almost layered like the Idugu now as he speaks. “But you have to be blessed by a goddess to receive it. You wanted Deka to burn in the fires. Wanted all of us to perish. Now, it’s your turn.”
He gestures. This time, every single jatu and Forsworn in the chamber bursts into flames, all of them screaming as their bodies bubble and scorch inside their armour. The odour of burning meat billows, that old familiar horror, but I’m not frightened by it, not even moved the slightest bit. They tried to take Keita from me. Tried to take all my friends as well, the people who are my only true family now. This is retribution. This is what they deserve.