by Evan Winter
“Yaw, Themba,” said Hadith. “Good to see you’re still alive.”
“For now,” said Themba, eyeing the Indlovu outside the walls.
Yaw, seeing the queen, started. Then he bobbed his head up and down like driftwood on the Roar before dropping to his knees, pulling Themba down with him.
“You may rise,” Tsiora said. They did and she spoke to Kellan. “Who leads our men now?”
Kellan pointed to the group of men behind the keep’s gates. “My queen, the highest-ranking officer of the Queen’s Guard is likely to be down there. When the gates fall, it will be the source of the heaviest fighting.”
“You are a third-cycle initiate?”
“I am, my queen. Inkokeli of Scale Osa. I was to be trained as an Ingonyama, pending royal approval.”
“We see. You are now an Ingonyama, Kellan Okar. You have received royal approval. You shall also lead the men upon the battlements.”
Okar glowed with pride. “I will honor your name, my queen.”
“Kellan Okar, Ingonyama, can we defend this keep?” she asked. “Can we hold, if we are clever and if we are lucky?”
Okar’s face fell. He was unwilling or unable to lie to his queen, and so said nothing.
“We understand,” Tsiora said, and for the briefest measure, Tau saw a frightened young woman with far too much responsibility. “Our challenge is significant,” she said. “Thus, we command those loyal to the queen to be particularly clever and amazingly lucky.”
Hadith chuckled, but, worried he might offend the queen, he pretended to be coughing. Queen Tsiora smiled at him, her eyes lighting up mischievously. Hadith lost the cough and smiled back.
Tau couldn’t believe it. With a few words and a smile, this child queen had charmed the same Lesser who had worn Tau’s ears thin with talk of Noble oppression.
“Betrayal?” Kana asked, speaking in halting and accented Empiric.
“It is,” Queen Tsiora told him. “We were betrayed by the highest-ranking members of our nobility.”
“Nobility…,” Kana said.
Uduak pointed off in the distance, to the city’s low walls. “Look!”
“Xiddeen?” Kana said, brows knitted. “My father comes.”
Kana was right. The invading force had reached Citadel City and Odili had not yet taken the keep or killed the queen. The guardian councillor’s plan was unraveling, and so was the Chosen’s chance for peace.
“Why… my father here?” Kana asked.
“We have been informed that the Noble’s treachery goes beyond us,” the queen told him. Kana waited for her to say more, and Tsiora gathered herself. “It is likely that the Gifted sent to you was an agent of the coup. She was a… a caller of fire-demons.”
Kana’s face darkened. “She was covered and masked.” He looked from face to face, and Tau knew he would find no comfort. “The Conclave?”
Tsiora held Kana’s eyes with hers. “We are told that your father’s presence may be an answer to what happened there.”
Kana leaned in, disbelief etched on his severe features. “Fire-demon burn Conclave?” His body was tensed, and Tau prepared himself in case the Xiddian attacked the queen.
“My father,” Kana said, “will kill you all.”
“We will tell him we were betrayed,” Tsiora said. “We will—”
“Queen,” Kana interrupted, earning himself a growl from Vizier Nyah, “No. Achak, father, he kill everyone, all Chosen everywhere.”
As Kana spoke, Tau heard the screech of wrenching bronze. It was almost human, the wail the gates gave as they ripped from their moorings and toppled.
Hadith swore, Uduak shifted his weight beside Tau, and the queen gripped the crenellations with so much force that Tau thought she might crack the adobe. The gates had fallen and Odili’s Indlovu swarmed the Guardian Keep like a plague of locusts.
HEX
The Queen’s Guard, the ones in the courtyard, died. After the bloodbath, one of the Indlovu noticed the queen, her cloud-white gown standing out in the dark, and many of them splintered off from the main group, rushing the stairs to the battlements. Kellan ordered the men with him to hold the stairs and asked Kana to stay back. Tau moved to obey, but the queen took his wrist. Her skin was soft, warm, like ash from a recently cooled fire.
“Will you stay with us, Tau Solarin?”
“My queen,” he said, after a breath’s hesitation.
She did not release his wrist. “Our thanks.”
Feeling taut as a kora’s strings, Tau stood by while Kellan and his sword brothers struggled to hold the stairs against a seething mass of full-blooded Indlovu. He flinched and tensed with every hit that his brothers took. And when Yaw was struck on his injured shoulder by a blow that sent him spinning to the battlement floor, Tau tested the queen’s hold. Her grip was firm, staying him.
He looked at her, trying to convey his need. She saw him and looked back to the battle for the stairs. Her face was placid, but her chest heaved and her fingers were clenched.
“My queen,” Nyah said, “you should leave the battlements. It won’t be much longer.”
Tau thought the same. It would not be much longer.
“Dear Nyah,” Queen Tsiora said, voice steady. “There is nowhere to go.”
Nyah moved her head like a wind vane, seeing Odili’s men outside the walls, inside the courtyard, and pushing up the stairs. The queen was right.
“Tau Solarin, if the time comes, we would ask a favor of you,” Tsiora said.
“My queen,” he said, wanting nothing more than to join his brothers.
“When hope is lost, do not allow us to fall into our enemy’s hands.”
“Tsiora!” said Nyah. “Queen Tsiora, no!”
The queen shushed her vizier with a raised finger. “Tau Solarin, will you aid us in this matter?”
Kana watched the three of them like they had lost their minds. His spear was out and aimed toward the fighting, though he’d taken heed of Kellan and stayed out of it. He was waiting to hear what Tau would say.
“I cannot do this,” Tau told her.
“Cannot?” she asked.
“I will die first.”
She paused, surprised, but would not be dissuaded. “And leave us to be used, then killed by those who wish us harm? We would be at Odili and his men’s mercy, such as it would be.”
Tau could feel her shaking. Her grip was tight, but she was shaking.
“I’ll not let them have you,” he promised. “I’ll stop them.”
It shouldn’t have worked. Anyone with sense could foresee the evening’s end, and yet Tau’s words settled her.
“We have faith,” she said, “in the Goddess and in those loyal to us.”
Silently, Nyah began to weep. Kana fidgeted with his spear. Kellan and the others had fallen back. Uduak was dragging Yaw with him. The stairs had been captured and Tau hated himself for making an impossible promise.
The end was coming and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He was not so powerful, he thought, as the ground beneath his feet began to writhe and the sound of a hundred thunderclaps tore through the night.
Indlovu were tossed from the stairs by the quake and Queen’s Guards fell from the battlements. Tau pulled the queen away from its edge, forcing her down. It sounded and felt like he was in the middle of an avalanche. Tau had seen them before, in the mountains, but they were in the valley and, lying on the floor of the battlements, he couldn’t see what had caused the furor. He heard the screams, though. He heard the horror in the voices of the men below.
Then a torrent of blazing fire, a column of twisting flame, lit the sky. Even behind the battlements’ thick walls, the fire’s blistering heat curled the hairs on Tau’s skin.
“Goddess!” whimpered Nyah.
“Fire-demon!” said Kana, on the ground beside Tau and the queen.
Tau stood, helping the queen to her feet. He looked down on the courtyard. An entire section of it was gone, fallen away into a molten sinkhol
e from which the youngling had crawled.
The creature was, in turns, awe-inspiring and piteous. It was huge, but less than half the size of the dragon that had burned the hedeni in Daba. It had open sores on its body and many of its shimmering black scales were missing. Its wings were torn at the edges and its long, sinuous neck was collared, though the bronze chain that had held it in whatever prison from which it had escaped was snapped in two.
The youngling roared at the sky and turned its baleful look on the courtyard’s invading Indlovu, who were stunned to immobility. It opened its maw and belched a river of flames, incinerating thirty men. Tau had to cover his eyes, the fires were so bright, and when they died down, Tau saw that Odili’s Indlovu were attacking the beast. The stupidity and bravery of it made Tau believe that, perhaps, the Chosen were the greatest fighting force on Uhmlaba.
Tau’s opinion, however, made no difference to the youngling, which caught a man in its jaws, snapped him in two, then snatched at another with the clawed tips of its foreleg and flung that man like a rock, smashing him to pieces against one of the keep’s walls. The dragon roared again, and the Indlovu, brave as they were, fell back. They knew what was to come. The knowledge did not save them. The youngling breathed fire, turning the courtyard into an inferno.
“No one should control such. No one,” Kana said as Tau spotted the youngling’s handler.
“Zuri,” he whispered.
Zuri had her hands out, fingers splayed, toward the dragon, and from a hundred strides away, Tau could see the strain on her face.
“What did you do?” Tau said. “What did you do…?”
Kellan, Hadith, and Uduak had crawled over. Yaw was being tended by one of the Queen’s Guard. His shoulder was a mess.
“That is not a Central Mountain Guardian,” Hadith said.
“She freed the youngling,” Kellan added.
“The coterie,” Tau said. “Where is her Hex?”
Uduak saw them first. “There.”
Tau followed Uduak’s hand. The coterie were there, under guard by the five men Hadith had sent with Zuri.
“They’re not drawing energy from Isihogo,” Tau said.
“How can you know?” asked Hadith.
“They don’t have the look, the focus,” answered Kellan.
“Ah,” said Hadith, bouncing his eyes from Zuri to the coterie and no doubt seeing the difference. “But, without a Hex…” Hadith paused, working it out. “She knew. There was no time to bring us Guardians from the Central Mountains. She knew from the start.”
“What did you do…?” Tau whispered as the youngling blew fire at Odili’s retreating Indlovu and Zuri stumbled, only just keeping her feet.
Zuri directed it to the stairs and the youngling scorched the Indlovu on them, leaving behind nothing but char and ashes. The Queen’s Guard cheered, their voices holding an edge of hope, and the dragon whipped its head back and forth, looking for some unseen attacker.
The youngling had torn through the Indlovu and, no longer distracted, it was fighting Zuri’s control, weakening her hold, demanding that she pull ever greater amounts of energy from Isihogo. It was collapsing her shroud.
“It’s Odili!” shouted Kellan.
The wretch, along with four Indlovu, had emerged from one of the hallways leading to the courtyard. The youngling was between him and the destroyed gates. He was trapped.
“Kellan Okar,” Queen Tsiora said. “We wish that traitor captured or killed.”
“My queen!” Kellan signaled the men of Scale Jayyed and they headed for the stairs.
Tau had seen Odili. He didn’t care. Zuri had begun to bleed from her eyes, ears, nose, and mouth.
“What have you done?” Tau said, going to his knees, emptying his mind, and flying to Isihogo.
EXPULSION
The youngling was there and its wings were not damaged; its scales were not missing. The youngling looked powerful, indestructible. Zuri was in front of it, holding her hands out and up. It had to be impossible, that someone so small could command such a majestic creature. Yet, the dragon heeled, though it would not for much longer.
Zuri’s shroud was little more than smoke before a breeze—thinning, vanishing, gone. And there she was, beautiful, glowing like the sun at dusk, warm and filled with life. Tau had never seen her in Isihogo unshrouded. She was the purest, most magnificent of the Goddess’s creations, and her light drew the demons in droves.
Tau ran to her through the blasting winds and gray-colored landscape. He ran to her side, pulled loose his swords, and steadied himself.
“Leave!” he yelled to Zuri, struggling to be heard over the underworld’s incessant storming.
Zuri still fought the dragon for control. “Can’t,” she said, nodding at the youngling. “She won’t let me.”
“They’re coming.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
The first demon had emerged from the mists. It charged them on six articulating legs. It had two sections of body—an abdomen and a thorax, its head embedded where a man’s chest would be. Its eyes, five of them, were fixed on Zuri, and its mouth, a gaping hole edged by bone-like pincers, stretched open. It snatched for her and Tau fought it back.
“I’m sorry,” Zuri said again.
Tau yelled at the demon, slashing at it over and over, as the next monstrosity, this one slithering across the ground like some enormous worm, attacked. He cut for the new beast’s head, but it avoided his blade and snapped back at him. Tau dodged and brought his strong-side sword crashing down on its back. It shrieked and retreated, giving Tau a chance to battle the six-legged freak.
“I’m sorry,” Zuri said, her golden glowing face filled with sorrow and fear. “I can’t… I hope—”
“No! Hold on,” Tau screamed, wheeling out of the way of a third demon, which stood like a man but was covered in matted fur and had claws instead of hands. That one caught him, ripping into his upper right arm and tearing thumb-long gashes of flesh away. A fourth demon howled from the mists, snuffed the air, and careened on all fours toward Zuri.
Tau couldn’t do it. Hard as he fought, he could not keep the demons off them both. So, he made them want him more. He reached for Isihogo.
“Tau!” Zuri shouted in a panic.
Tau pulled as much energy as he could from Ananthi’s prison. He filled himself with it to bursting. He gorged until the power of it threatened to burn through him, until he shone brighter than a noonday sun.
The demons stopped in their tracks, no longer interested in Zuri. Tau heard the grunts, howls, roars, and hisses from a hundred others in the mists, and he stepped away from her, calling to them. “I am here for you, finally here in the flesh. Come, come if you dare!”
They came.
Tau lifted his swords and they blazed with the powers of the underworld, burning like they’d been dipped in tar and lit by torches, and with those fiery blades, he set upon Ukufa’s thralls.
He whirled and spun, thrust and swung, moving as fast as he was able, striking with as much power as he could muster. His blades burned the beasts and they shrank back from his blows.
Tau felt triumph. Tau felt power. Tau felt he could kill these demons with his gift-infused swords, and if that was what would save Zuri, then it was what he would do.
He sliced the arm from one demon, chopped the legs out from another. He laughed. This was what it was to be a god. He swung again, connecting; he danced back, then came forward, and a demon, one he did not see, lanced him through the back with several of its dozen spear-like protuberances.
The pain coursed through Tau like a tsunami. It owned him, and when the thing he had not seen ripped its jagged limb out of him, the pain stole his senses. Tau stumbled away, swinging wildly. Through the haze of pain he saw Zuri, still there, still glowing. The dragon had not released her.
He looked down at his wound. The demon had him open from belly to groin. He swung about himself, doing what he could to keep the monsters at bay. He tried to shout for Zuri
but didn’t have the strength. His legs were going numb, his arms were heavy as boulders, and his breathing was labored. He was done, and a new demon had come from the mists.
It was twice Tau’s height and covered in spikes from head to toe. It had no eyes and its head was horned. It could not see, but it knew where Tau was. It tracked toward him. Tau forced his arms up, his swords blazing.
“Do you bleed?” he spat, words daring and voice weak. “Shall we see?”
Tau staggered toward the demon of spikes, going to his death. The demon roared. Tau roared back and there was a flash that lit up all of Isihogo, briefly banishing its mists and revealing horrors and monsters beyond Tau’s darkest nightmares. The demon hordes were endless, out there in the distance, endless, and then the light was gone and Tau was joined by a Gifted in the heaviest shroud he had ever seen.
“Tau Solarin,” said his queen. “You will die here.”
“Tsiora?” Tau spluttered, her honorific forgotten.
“The Omehi line has ever been Gifted.” She raised her hand and blasted him with something that felt like enervation twisted in on itself. It sucked his insides out and pulled him away from Isihogo.
“Zuri!” he screamed.
“We will try to save your friend,” Queen Tsiora said, as she increased the strength of the blast, ejecting him from the underworld.
LIMITS
“Zuri!” Tau was on the ground. He didn’t know why. He sat up and was assaulted by pain. Nyah came to his aid, holding him still.
“Don’t move. You’re hurt,” she said.
Tau ran a quivering hand over his body. There was no wound to find.
“He went to spirit world! He was in nyumba ya mizimu, the Reflection,” said Kana.
“He drew energy and was injured by a demon,” Nyah said.
“How alive?” asked Kana. “Shaman? I think only your women have this power.”
“He has no gifts. He’s a fool who has put our queen in danger.”
Queen Tsiora was kneeling in front of Tau, her eyes open but sightless, her focus in Isihogo.
“So many lies,” said Kana. “You tell us your queens lost their power in the Reflection.”