Child of the Kaites (The Firstborn's Legacy Book 1)

by Beth Wangler

  I jog to catch up with him, and Nhardah’s long strides easily match our pace.

  “You can do that?” I ask Nhardah. “Command aivenkaites to leave?”

  He shrugs and strikes west to circle toward the harbor. “It doesn’t always work, but sometimes all they and we need is a reminder of who the real power is.”

  I’ve never heard of something like this, of such concentrated effort of the enemy and resilient resistance by the kaites, or of a human winning any sort of victory over an aivenkaite. Those ideas occupy my mind the rest of the way to the harbor.

  We reach it otherwise unscathed and undetected. Nihae and Elesekk gesture to us from the ferry’s deck. “Hurry,” they call.

  An impulse strikes me. “Anik, come with us.”

  The boy looks between me and the ferry. Anik’s lips twist. “I wish I could, Raiba. But I’ve got to be here for Mayli and Pipit. Between Tatanda and Sandat, things aren’t gonna be easy.”

  We hug. “I wish you all the best,” I murmur. “Peace to you, my cousin.”

  Anik squeezes. “May the spirits go with you and be kind, my cousin.” He lets go and nods.

  Savi lends his arm to help me across the gap between dock and deck. Elesekk waits on the other side to pull me forward. I turn back to watch Saviayr and Nhardah jump aboard.

  At the edge of the port, Sandat appears. He has at least five others with him, older boys and young men. They frantically search empty crates piled around the wharf. Any moment, they will see us.

  “Cast off,” Nhardah tells the ferryman. His instruction carries across the dockyard.

  Sandat sees us. He shouts and sprints.

  The ferryman slips free the ropes binding his vessel to the dock. Unrestrained, the ferry glides away on the tide’s current. The rowers dip their oars to pull us forward faster.

  Sandat races up the dock. Anik stands between him and the pier. My cousin spreads his arms and bends his knees.

  Sandat runs straight at Anik. Just before they meet, he veers right. Anik lunges at him. Sandat’s almost out of his reach. Anik just grabs his ankles, sending Sandat tumbling onto the pier.

  Sandat’s up in a blink, racing back toward the ferry. By now, the gap between us and the pier has grown. I grab onto the railing, hardly breathing. We need to be a little farther away, just a little.

  Sandat surges off the edge of the pier, arms spinning.

  He might reach us. He just might.

  We realize at the same time that he won’t quite reach. Anik slowed him down too much. Sandat’s eyes widen. He shrieks and plops into the water. Droplets splash me with salt.

  I sag against the railing. He can’t catch us, nor can his accomplices. No other boat in the harbor is ready for sail.

  I’m still free.

  Except I’ve never been free. Technically, I’m still a runaway slave. Once I’m back on Izyphorn soil, I may lose this stolen liberty at any time.

  And now Anik’s in trouble, too. Sandat struggles toward the shore, and his posse reaches Anik. When my cousin tries to run, they grab him. A fist collides with his cheek.

  My scream hardly makes them pause.

  The ferry turns, and an anchored boat obstructs my view. The bark of sea lions and splash of oars drowns out the fight. I strain for a glimpse of my cousin, but more comes between us, then we are out of the harbor.

  Savi pulls me close. “Anik will be okay. There were already people at the market. They will have heard what was happening and break things up.”

  I wrap an arm around his back and hold the railing with my other hand. “Anik never gets in fights.”

  Savi rubs my back. “It was his decision. Anik loves you. It’s not your fault.”

  Savi’s words help the guilt, but heaviness sinks into my stomach. Ira shrinks into the distance. My cousins, my life, are shrinking away, out of reach, and I didn’t get to say goodbye. Will I ever see them again in this life? Will Anik be okay?

  When I was on the island, hardly anyone noticed me. I did what I could to help Tatanda’s family. After the events of the past couple days, the island will be in an uproar. How much harm will come to my family there?

  Aia, defend them.

  The island is a small bump on the piercing blue sea when Savi says, “Hey, I’m sorry for freaking out earlier.”

  I wrap my other arm around him and rest my head on his shoulder. “It was an aivenkaite. Not your fault.”

  Savi sighs. “No, I meant at the hut, when I was upset that you hadn’t told me everything. I did the same thing with you, up until yesterday morning, and we haven’t had time to talk. I don’t know why I expected to know about Lev—Nhardah—and everything you’re planning.”

  I press my lips against his shoulder and concede, “I probably should have told you what I was planning even when you were still marrying Maylani. I should have talked to you; I shouldn’t have assumed you already knew what I was thinking.”

  Savi chuckles. “I can’t actually read your mind all the time, you know.”

  “What is the point of having you, then?” I smile up at him, my cheeks stretching of their own accord.

  “I’m sure you’ll figure out something.” Savi grins back at me and leans closer.

  Chapter 17

  It’s full morning when we leave the railing to sit with Elesekk and Nihae. They both give me crushing hugs. “Finally we can talk!” Nihae grins.

  “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do,” Elesekk says, giving us a stern look ruined by the smile crinkling the edges of his eyes.

  We settle down on the salt-smoothed benches. Savi and I share with them what ended his engagement to Maylani and ended in our marriage.

  “It was about time,” Nihae declares.

  “What do you mean?” Savi asks.

  “We’ve been praying for that since we heard Rai’s story,” Elesekk explains. He winks at Nihae.

  “Why didn’t you just say something?” Savi asks.

  “You know we try not to interfere,” Nihae says. “Besides, would you have done different if we’d said something?”

  Savi slips his hand into mine. “At first, I probably would have been angrier. Toward the end of the week, though, I think I would have listened.”

  “Well, we’re married now, so everything turned out well.” I rest my head on his shoulder.

  Savi presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Very well, indeed.”

  Nihae touches Elesekk’s arm. “How do you think Yorchan will react?”

  Her name sends a thrill through me. I’ll get to see my sister soon!

  Elesekk laughs. “She’s more expressive than our Rai is nowadays, and look how Rai is glowing. I imagine the whole city will hear Yori’s shriek. I’m more concerned about how the royal Yrin will react to us bringing home a different bride than we left with.”

  Savi squeezes my hand. “I’m not sure his reaction will matter as much now. Rai, you’re planning something?”

  I look around for Nhardah, who leans against the mast nearby, watching us with half-closed eyes. He raises an eyebrow at me.

  Okay, then I guess I’m taking the lead. “I am,” I answer Savi. “Two days ago, Nhardah helped me realize that I need to stop hiding and stand up for Maraiah. Oh! I haven’t told you, Nihae and Elesekk. This man, Lev, is actually Nhardah the Firstborn.”

  They nod. “He told us when he and your cousin woke us this morning,” Elesekk explains.

  “He’s a lot less strange now that we know who he is,” Nihae observes.

  “How did he help you?” Savi draws us back.

  “Do you remember how he’s asked me if I believe my name? I finally understood. Do I believe Thaies chose me to be a leader of a revolt, to lead Maraiah out of slavery? I decided I do.”

  “Isn’t that what we always said?”

  “Yes, but I stopped believing that when I ran away,” I admit. “I convinced myself I was just a recorder of history.”

  Savi tilts his head to the side. “Huh. But you’ve changed your m
ind back now.”

  “Yes.”

  “And it’s happening now?” Elesekk asks, leaning forward.

  I look at him and Nihae. Hope washes years of toil from their faces.

  “Yes. Nhardah said something about the Feast of Wheat.”

  Savi whistles. “That certainly is fast. That’s only a week away.”

  Is it too soon for him? “I know. I know you have a duty to the royal who employs you, but we can figure something out, right?”

  Savi brushes a stray hair off of my forehead. “Rai, this has been my dream since we first met. Aia is finally answering our prayers. I’ve always known that there will never be a good or easy time to leave Yrin’s service, and I’m okay with that. Where you go, I go.”

  “Together?” I repeat our childhood vow.

  “Together.”

  “Hae-Aia,” Elesekk rejoices. “But what are you going to do?”

  “That,” I say, turning toward the distant silhouette of the mainland, “is a good question.”

  While the ocean wind rustles the sail and water laps against the ferry, we plan. Nhardah joins us, though he just crouches by the bench and rarely says anything.

  “I never understood Izyphorn titles,” I admit. “What does it mean for you to work for a royal?”

  “The sultan is the ultimate authority in Izyphor,” Savi explains, “or at least, he used to be, no question. Recently, the royals and nobles have been limiting his power. The royals are descended from the sultan’s immediate family down through four generations. In the fifth generation removed from the sultan, royals become nobles. Untitled Izyphorns can become nobles through great acts of service to the sultan.”

  I squint against the sunlight that dances on the ripples of the ocean as if they’re made of faceted crystal. The air wavers between a pleasant cool and humid warmth, depending on whether or not the breeze is blowing. “So the royal Yrin is closely related to the sultan? I always pictured him more as an eccentric with little power living on the outskirts of the empire.”

  Saviayr nods. “He’s only three steps removed. His mother was the sultan’s aunt.”

  I blink, trying to fit this information into my understanding of Saviayr’s employer. How did a humble slave boy become an advisor to one of the most powerful men in Izyphor? How much has Savi changed while I was gone?

  He touches my arm. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

  I smile. “Nothing. I’m just realizing I missed a lot while I was on Ira.”

  Savi lifts the corner of his mouth. “We both have a lot to catch up on.”

  I squeeze his hand and nod.

  By the time we draw near to Izyphor, we have three plans. First, we’ll try to convince Yrin to patronize us. According to Savi, he’s always been more sympathetic toward the Maraians than most other royals. That was why he hired Saviayr in the first place, as he knew Savi could give him better insight into our people’s history and go between Yrin and the Maraians.

  If Yrin will side with us, then we can arrive at the capital with a high-ranking sponsor. We’ll ask for an audience with the sultan and royals and bring our proposal to them.

  Izyphor has always allowed individual slaves to earn their freedom, if they are fortunate enough for a position that grants them more than food and clothing. Historically, no slave people has survived long enough in the harsh desert conditions to broach the question of them earning freedom on a large scale. Maraiah has survived for hundreds of years, though. We may be able to convince the Izyphorns that we have all earned our freedom through generations of labor.

  If that doesn’t work, our second and third plans are similar. We’ll remind them of the recent rising unrest among the Maraians, which I learned of through Sandat and which Savi and his parents already knew. Izyphor could avoid a costly uprising by preemptively showing kindness and freeing us.

  And if that doesn’t work, my name is Leader of a Revolt, after all. We can go to our people and inspire the revolt that seems simmering under the surface.

  “Aia is on our side,” I remind my family. “Izyphor is strong, but Aia is stronger. He will grant us victory.”

  The ferry captain interrupts before we can say any more. “We’re approaching the mainland. Get out your seals of freedom.”

  I glance between Saviayr and his parents. I have no seal of freedom; technically, I’m a runaway slave.

  Will I be arrested and sent back to a labor village before we can even start?

  Savi’s hand tightens in mine.

  Nhardah leans over the railing a few paces away, where he took his place as our planning drew to an end. He must have planned this through. I look to him. “Nhardah, what do I do?”

  The Firstborn shrugs. “You’re the leader. Figure it out for yourself.”

  I squint. Nhardah got me into this mess, with his questions about my name. He should help.

  The anger quickly passes, though. I chose this. Nhardah didn’t force me. Fear of being caught rises up in anger’s place. I take a deep breath.

  Elesekk shifts on his crate seat. “Rai, you can have my seal of freedom.”

  Nihae reaches for his hand. Her eyebrows dip toward each other. “Elesekk,” she entreats.

  “Nihae, beloved, I’ll be okay. I won’t be much use to you all, anyways. This can be my sacrifice in freeing our people. Besides, it won’t be for much longer. They’ll succeed, and we’ll all be free.”

  I’m shaking my head before he finishes. “No. Absolutely not. Elesekk, you’ve already done so much for me. I can’t let you give up your freedom, too.”

  Savi murmurs, “Then what will we do?”

  My only idea makes my heart race. I force my shoulders to stay relaxed and breathe out. “We try to act normal and see if they let me off the boat. If Aia wants me free right now, He will get me off this ferry without being taken as a slave.”

  “What makes you think that this isn’t Aia’s plan for your safe return to Izyphor?” Elesekk asks, pulling his seal out of his tunic and glancing to make sure none of the ferrymen see it.

  It’s a copper disc, no wider than my little finger is long. One side is stamped with a horned viper twining around a scorpion, vole, caracal, crocodile, and desert wren: the symbols of the Izyphorn divinities Zyphor, Tivan, Api, Rezik, Havil, and Yza in turn. The only divinity absent is Akir, He Who Consumes. Akir’s hyena is on the other side, mouth open to consume the Maraian chanavea. This seal marks its carrier as a former Maraian slave. “Maybe He put me here just so that we could do this,” Elesekk says.

  I shake my head again. “No. Aia would not free His people by returning one of them to slavery, even for a short time.”

  “Rai,” Nihae says, “we know you learned about Aia from the kaites, and we only learned about Him from our parents. But you must admit that Aia does not always act in the way we’d expect.”

  She’s right. I bury my head in my hands and try to think. It gives me a glimpse of my clothing. The burgundy vest and yellow dress, sleeveless, are among the most Iranine clothing I have. My hair’s straight now, and I wear a chanavea, but perhaps I can still pass as Iranine.

  In the end, I come to the same conclusion: “I can’t take away your freedom, Elesekk. I can’t let you do that for me. We’ll see what happens first.” I tuck Savi’s chanavea into my clothing. This will be the last time I hide who I am.

  Aia, let me pass by the captain without being caught.

  No one looks pleased with my decision, but the ferry slides past the sentry towers rising from two massive jetties. There is no more time to argue. I gather my bag and take my first real look at Izyphor in three years.

  Ahead, the waters fill with boats of all sizes. Small fishing craft bob between low-riding barges ladened with stone for building projects. Kayaks dart around awning-covered party boats overflowing with nobles and their slaves. Our ferry weaves through the moving maze toward salt-bleached piers floating on pontoons.

  Beyond that, merchants and tradesmen bustle around orange brick buildings that
blend in with the amber desert. It’s hard to tell where the city ends and unsettled desert begins, but flat coast rises into crescent-moon dunes broken by a few shrubs. To the east, gold darkens into the fertile green of plant life growing in the many mouths of the great Izyphorn river, the Havilim.

  The ferry scrapes against the pier. We sway with the impact, and Nihae stumbles. Savi jumps to catch and steady her.

  The captain shouts orders to the crew, who jump between the deck and the dock, looping reed ropes around posts. Then he calls, “Line on up with your tokens ready.”

  Elesekk, Nihae, Saviayr, and I shuffle forward in a close group, just behind a pair of traders. Nhardah slides behind the captain and off the boat without drawing any attention. He winks at me, then sits on a railing on the shore.

  My eyes dart between the Firstborn and the captain. Could I pull off the same move as Nhardah? Even as the thought enters my mind, I dismiss it. Hundreds of years have taught the Firstborn an easy air of authority and stealth. I would surely draw attention, especially in my fine but wrinkled Iranine clothing. Instead, I wait our turn and pray.

  Saviayr hands his and his parents’ freedom seals to the captain. The man looks the disks over, bangs one against the rail, and waves us four past.

  That was too easy. My eyes and ears sharpen. Something isn’t right. But I don’t feel like aivenkaites are near.

  Nihae pushes me forward. I stumble off the boat, peeking back at the captain. His attention is on the next passengers.

  A hand closes tight around mine. Saviayr pulls me closer to his side. His eyes stay fixed on the end of the pier, and he hastens our pace.

  When we reach Nhardah, I whisper, “That was too easy.”

  Nhardah stares at me, expressionless. “You asked Aia to get you ashore undetected, did you not?”

  I glance back. The ferry men are unloading cargo, focused on their work. “I did. But without any trouble?”

  “Why would Aia do such a thing?” Nhardah-Lev asks, in the same tone the kaites used to use when they wanted me to answer my own question.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Then think.”

  Elesekk, ever the peacekeeper, steps up to us. “Come, we should find a caravan,” he says.