by AA Lee
“Look,” he said in a stern voice, hands on his waist, “I don’t want you to die trying to undo this curse.”
“I’m the high priestess. I would die for my village.”
“Not before you undo the curse.” Kisig wanted to tell her to preserve her life, but he knew that would only prolong their argument. They needed to be fast, and he needed to choose his words carefully to convince her.
“Fine.” She stood. She closed her eyes for a moment. “Yes, High Priestess. Sorry, I know your hands are full, but we’re on the way to the torch now.” She paused, listening for a while.
This time, Kisig could not see Priestess Mutya.
“Yes, I know, but there’s no other way. I have to end the curse. Kisig said something about evil souls.” She paused again. “No. Datu Goni is in Daa. Is there a way for us to go without going back to Daa?” After a moment of silence, Kenda said, “No, you have to stay there to keep Romu. Is there a way for you to cross here without anyone calling you?” A long pause followed. “Fine,” she concluded with a hint of irritation.
“Mind your language when talking to Priestess Mutya,” Kisig scolded her. “She is more than four hundred years old!”
“What? What did I say wrong?”
Kisig sighed. Kenda wasn’t aware of how rude she seemed sometimes when she wanted to make a point.
“No matter what happens, don’t look at or talk to the souls. She said that they’re not what they appear to be. For example, a soul might pretend to be my grandmother and remind me of things we used to do. Just continue without listening to them. If you do, they will get you.”
“That… doesn’t sound good. Anything we can do to send them away?”
“Priestess Mutya said that Datu Goni has ward powders to keep them away, but I can’t go back now that we’re already here.”
“You travel fast. I’m sure the water can bring you back fast to Daa.”
“If you’d only remembered about those pesky souls before we left Daa, we wouldn’t have this problem now.”
“Dear spirits, Kenda. Four hundred years have passed! Did you expect me to remember everything?”
“Tala and the contenders made it without ward powders. I’m sure we can make it. Just don’t chase anyone who looks like someone you know down there.” Kenda jumped into the well before he could answer.
Water splashed, hitting him in the face and prompting him to step back.
“That short-tempered girl!” He cursed, took a big breath, and jumped after her.
A temporary shock at the cold water was all he could feel at first. After a moment, his body seemed to be going up instead of moving down, so he kicked the stone wall to propel himself downward. The wall and the bottom of the well were so dark that he wasn’t sure whether he was near the bottom or still had a long way to go. His lungs burned for air. His mouth opened involuntarily, taking in water instead of the much-needed air, and he fell into a coughing fit. When he raised his head, the candle lights were so inviting that his legs started to kick to swim back up. Just as he thought he would lose consciousness, the water rose around him, and he fell with a thud like a sack of rice. After a while, he returned to his normal breathing.
Kenda was already standing, looking unhurt. He wanted to complain at her carelessness and point out that she could have used her power to bring them down, but he thought better of it. He didn’t want the girl to be angry again. Besides, he didn’t know if she was exhausted from using her power. He knew priestesses’ powers weren’t unlimited.
Kisig turned his head to his right and took a deep breath as water moved forward, leaving a dry path for them to walk on. Understanding dawned on him. The contenders four hundred years before had not used magic to go to another place after going into the well. It was literally a way to somewhere. As he and Kenda strode forward, the water continued to move. He wondered how the contenders of the priestess trials had survived underwater for such a long period.
After a while, the path widened, and the ceiling rose higher and higher until they reached what looked like an underground lake. No torchlight nor sunlight came from above, yet the underground was bright. Perhaps it could be a spell from one of the priestesses. If not for the difficult way in, he would have thought they were approaching a beach.
Kisig’s eyes could not help but take in this new world under the village with wonder. When he breathed deeply, the air was as fresh as that in a lush forest. That only meant that wherever the exit was, it was big enough to let in a large amount of air. He looked back to see water closing in on the path they just walked through. Kenda continued walking, and the water parted as if bowing before a queen passing by.
He thought someone called him, but Kenda did not even look around. “What?” He heard the voice again.
“My boy.” It was faint but clearly there. “My boy, come here.” It was a voice he’d longed to hear. Warm and sweet, it contrasted with his father’s cold and cruel voice from centuries before.
Steeling himself, he slapped both hands over his ears to block the voice. Somehow, it still found a way to be heard, and now, to his left, his mother waited for him with open arms.
“Kenda,” he pleaded.
He really needed her to distract him, but she kept walking as though chasing something she could not resist.
“Come here, my boy,” his mother called again, her voice still gentle.
Kisig fought the urge to look, but his head turned, and when their eyes finally met, his mother’s lips broke into a warm smile. Kisig ran to her, eager to feel his mother’s embrace. He wanted to be fast, but his legs were too short. She knelt to meet her young son’s eyes. Her face turned to worry as she waited for him. Her lips parted, urging him to come faster.
Kisig’s head snapped to one side, and a ringing in his ears muted his mother’s words. As Kisig’s hand rose to his face involuntarily, he was thankful for the pain.
Chapter 11
Kenda
“You didn’t see any visions earlier?” Kisig asked, one hand still pressed against his red cheek.
“Oh, I did. The soul who impersonated my grandmother wasn’t so creative. Didn’t know that Datu Goni had trained me to distinguish which visions are true and which aren’t.”
He didn’t say anything about the slap.
“Sorry I had to.” She looked at his cheek and grimaced. “It seemed like you couldn’t hear me.”
Kisig shook his head to dismiss her concern and let his hand hang at his side. “I swear it felt so real. I even felt like a young boy again. I became short, and the soul had to kneel down to hug me.”
“Hilarious. You could have drowned there if I didn’t see you. Luckily, I sent away the evil soul pretending to be my grandma by laughing at her face,” she lied.
She had been lured by the jealous soul as Kisig was under the clutch of another. She heard Kisig call her, but the soul’s voice was stronger. Giving in to the vision for just one moment had almost cost his life. She sighed and turned her back, ready to move forward and focus on getting her hands on the torch.
“Only one soul tried to get you?” Kenda asked. “Hey!” When Kenda turned, Kisig was walking back, not caring that the water was reaching past his waist. She dashed to grab him, but his feet dug into the sand, and his hands stretched forward as though he was trying to reach out for someone. Kenda looked in the direction of his hands, and as she met another soul’s eyes, it smiled with triumph. Black smoke swirled around its body.
“Tala, I’m sorry. Forgive me,” Kisig whispered.
Kenda raised her hand high and slapped Kisig on the other side of his face. Her hand stung with the impact, but she jumped in front of Kisig to face the soul. Kisig shook his head as if waking up from a dream.
“Run!” Kenda screamed as she pushed Kisig.
Her head was surprisingly clear when they reached the shore. She did not dare to look back and made sure Kisig kept his eyes forward until they reached a waterfall with just enough water to seep through some moss
.
“It looks like we have to climb this waterfall.” Kisig looked left and right then back to the waterfall in front of them. All the other walls curved up to the ceiling of the underground chamber, leaving them with no other exit.
The path ahead was surprisingly easy after the slippery waterfall. The underground ceiling was high above the creek, and the space was so unnaturally bright that she couldn’t guess the time. The creek almost looked the same as the one near her grandparents’ farm, except for its disappointingly low volume of water.
“Don’t look back!” Kisig said.
Kenda hadn’t noticed herself looking back. “I really want to drive them away to the underworld where they belong.”
“If you do, people will come here and try to get the torch. Many people will die if a selfish man gets a hold of it.”
“Right. But after this is done, I’m going to destroy the torch and send them to the afterlife.”
After they walked for what seemed like about a kilometer, the path finally ended in a passageway leading to what looked like a circular room. The smooth stone walls rose up to meet the underground ceiling.
They both stopped. The whole circle wasn’t visible from where they stood, and Kenda took a deep breath and stepped forward. Her hand accidentally brushed Kisig’s clenched fist.
“It’ll be fine,” she said. “Just remember to stay by my side… or Tala’s, depending on who ends up with the torch, and then it will not eat away our soul.”
Kisig nodded and followed her into the circle. “Look!”
Kenda whirled to see Kisig pointing at the wall. She looked up, and there was the torch, its handle stuck in a smooth crack. It was barely visible against the unnatural light in the underground.
“I’m sure the vision was true, but this torch is rather… underwhelming.”
“It is the same torch that I saw four hundred years ago.” Kisig nodded. “The flame grows weak when not in the hands of a powerful priestess like Tala.”
Kenda walked closer to the wall. The wooden handle didn’t look extraordinary, yet she knew it was anything but ordinary. She tiptoed, but it was out of her reach. She looked around for cracks to climb with, but the walls were as smooth and shiny as a lake under moonlight.
“Can you get it instead of me? I can’t reach it.”
“No!”
Kenda stepped back in surprise.
Kisig’s brows were furrowed, his muscles tense.
“Fine. No need to shout.”
“The torch will hurl me back. Only those it deems powerful enough can hold it. You lit the candle in the shrine. You’re the only one who can hold it now.”
Will it accept me? Kenda thought. What if my power isn’t enough? Will I die? She looked up at the torch again. The flame suddenly didn’t look so tiny to her.
“We’re already here, so I can’t back out now,” she said almost to herself.
“You can step on my shoulders.” Kisig squatted.
“No.” Stepping on the former datu’s shoulders seemed inappropriate even if she was the high priestess.
“High Priestess, we have to hurry. Nobody’s going to punish you for stepping on my shoulder.”
Kenda sighed. “O-okay.” Gently, she placed her staff on the ground. Swallowing hard, she looked at her feet, conscious that they might be dirty. She put both hands against the wall and placed her right foot on Kisig’s shoulder. “I can’t. You’re too tall. I’m afraid I’m going to fall.”
Then Kisig stood, looking at her as though she was a fool. “You can command water.”
“Oh!” Kenda grimaced. Focused on the torch, Kenda had almost forgotten her power. She held up a hand, and the water crawled like a snake, pooling around her until it could hold her weight. Then she rose.
The moment her hand touched the torch, the flame grew as though kerosene gas had been thrown onto it. Time slowed down. One of Kisig’s blinks seemed to take almost an eternity. His expression turned from worry to horror.
The torch pulsed. Her surroundings shifted, just like when she had seen Kisig’s memory, only this time, a person’s memory wasn’t laid bare, but the torch’s was. She watched, unblinking. The torch’s memory was so vivid and inviting that she started to think it was hers. Centuries of blood and death flashed in her mind, and she shuddered as the torch offered hatred for her to use. Only hers…
When the flood of memories halted abruptly, Kenda lost her grip on her power. She fell down on the stone floor with a thud.
“Kenda!” Kisig called, panicked.
“I’m fine,” Kenda grunted. She opened her eyes, unsurprised that the flames had swallowed all the shadows in the underground.
The torch still pulsed, yearning to display its power. Kenda held Kisig’s outstretched hand, and he pulled her to her feet. The torch’s pulsing weakened, and the flame shrank a few inches, but the power was just beneath the surface.
“Here’s your staff.” Kisig held it out to her with his other hand as he avoided looking at the flame.
Kenda gripped her staff. “Now I have to free Tala. I want you to stand over there and turn your back but stay within my sight.”
“Okay. Can I do anything to help?”
“No. Just stay in my sight. Don’t look, or I will fail. Wait until Tala is free.”
“O-okay…” Kisig turned and stopped right at the entrance of the circle.
“More… Walk farther… Good. Keep going.” Satisfied that Kisig was far enough away not to hear her whisper, she gripped the torch more tightly, and it pulsed in response. “Taste my power.”
Kenda plucked a strand of her hair and fed it to the flame. It burst with excitement, and if she hadn’t been quick enough to dodge, the flame would have swallowed her hand. She was ready. She pulled two more strands of her long hair, just as High Priestess Mutya had four hundred years before. Then she tied them around the torch instead of the staff. Before she cast her spell, she stopped for a moment. She suspected the torch could read its master’s mind. It wasn’t an ordinary object. When she held it for the first time, Kenda knew the torch had a way to convince its master to do something. She couldn’t afford to let the torch know the purpose of her spell.
With a deep breath, she cleared her mind. She imagined herself in the middle of a river. Slowly, she pictured herself building a wall around herself with rocks and pebbles until she could no longer hear the rumbling of the current. Back when her grandmother was still alive, she had found this technique helpful when she wanted to keep a secret. Even though Nora claimed to have only the power to communicate with souls, Kenda had always suspected she could read minds as well, because she could always predict Kenda’s thoughts until Kenda tried hiding her thoughts by using this visualization, which always proved effective. Now, she only hoped it would work against the torch.
She hadn’t cast a spell before and had only seen High Priestess Mutya do it once in the vision she’d seen underground, but she had to believe her spell would work. It was her only hope.
Gently, she put the torch down against the stone wall and held her staff with both hands. “It is time for you to free Tala,” she whispered. The flame didn’t stir.
“I’m offering my life in exchange for her freedom.”
As Kenda had expected, the flame danced with excitement. Each gifted person consumed by the torch added to its power, and Kenda could feel its hunger.
With one swift pull, she plunged the pointed tip of her staff toward her own stomach.
Chapter 12
Kisig
Kisig whirled as he heard Kenda gasp. His brain froze, unable to comprehend the scene before him. Kenda lay on the ground, the flame feeding on blood from her stomach. A short-haired girl stood in front of her—Tala. Tala stood unmoving, as if, like him, she was trying to process what was happening.
“She sacrificed herself to free you!” Kisig shouted almost at the same time he realized what had happened. “Help her!”
Tala turned to him, and her shock turned to anger
. “Why are you still free? I paid with my life to punish you.”
“Please, Tala. Save her. Kill me later if you want to, but save Kenda first. She freed you.”
Tala’s eyes darted between him and Kenda, as if she couldn’t decide whether to save the girl on the brink of death or take her revenge. Finally, she grabbed the torch and looked straight into the raging flame. “I promised you my blood. Not hers. If you don’t stop now, you won’t have me.”
The flame weakened, and the link to Kenda’s belly was severed. Surprisingly, no trace of burns showed on her skin. But the girl was bleeding, and the staff was lodged in her belly.
“Heal her, please. She can’t die.”
Tala shook her head. “I need to go out of my body to heal her. If I do that, the torch might feast on her again. I haven’t fulfilled my end of the bargain yet for the curse I created, so I’m not expecting it to follow my command.”
“We can’t leave her to die. Ask someone. Touch the hair on the staff! Kenda called the high priestesses through that. You can’t let her die.” Kisig felt like a child again, helpless and afraid.
Tala’s knuckles were white, her brows furrowed. “No. She bargained with the torch. If she lives now, it’s only because I’m going to buy time.”
“As long as she lives. Let’s think about other things later. Hurry. She’s losing too much blood.” He also wanted to rush Tala before the torch consumed her mind again.
Tala continued staring at the torch as though in silent conversation. The torch glowed more and more brightly, and Kisig had to close his eyes. When he opened them, Kenda was gone.
“Where is Kenda?”
Tala only shook her head.
“Don’t say that she’s dead.”
“She’s not,” Tala said in a weak voice. She rested the torch against the wall and slumped on the floor. “Not yet, anyway. She’s inside the torch.”
“You imprisoned her?”
“That’s the only way for her to live for now. The torch demands it so that I can’t back out later when the time comes for it to consume my power… and hers.” She shook her head in resignation. “I told you we’re only buying time. Either way, we’re both dead. In exchange for me to escape Hagibis, the torch required me to curse the village. But when I’m ready, I have to give my life to end the curse. There’s no way out for me. I only needed a little time to escape.”