Dark Requiem (The Darkling Trilogy, Book 3)

by A. D. Koboah

  I took her hand and led her away.

  I returned immediately to find days had passed. Mallory had remained with her mother’s corpse the entire time. She was in the kitchen standing on a chair searching the half empty cupboards for something to eat.

  She sat down on the chair and bit her nails. She may have remained in the house for a few more days had I not given her a gentle nudge to go and find help, bringing forth an image of what she had always wanted. A father.

  She followed that intuition and left the house into the night. She turned in the direction of their nearest neighbour, but I moved to block her path.

  She came to an abrupt halt, her skin tingling. She rapidly backed away and went in the other direction, which would take her into the woods and to the mansion. Just before she disappeared into the trees, she stopped and looked toward where I stood. Then she dipped into the woods.

  I watched her move out of sight. She would soon stumble across the mansion and Avery, but there was still more for me to do. I moved into one of the shimmering fissures that were mine to command and found myself in a large, clinical, dorm-like room with roughly six beds. I moved to the bed near the window where a small mound topped with long red hair lay beneath the covers. Before I reached the bed, she was awake and had pushed the covers off of her. She sat up, her small form tense, her eyes wide in the dark as she peered around her as if listening intently. She remembered nothing of the short time she spent with Avery, but it appeared as if she had been waiting for something. Before I could prod her, she got out of the bed and dressed silently, constantly peering around her at the long, deep shadows in the room, almost as if expecting one of them to come to life before her. She definitely knew I was there although she could not see me. When she was dressed, I moved to the door, and she followed, although she still could not see me.

  She opened the door and walked through it, stepping into bright sunshine and woodlands.

  If she was aware of what had just taken place—that she had crossed space and time in just a few steps—she did not show it. Her gaze was transfixed on what could be seen of the mansion through the gates. She moved toward it as if sleep walking and sat down by the gates.

  It was how Avery found her minutes later.

  Although I knew she was safe and would have all she had ever wanted—a loving father who would protect her—it was still difficult for me to walk away from this Mallory and give up what I had wanted the moment I laid eyes on her in my mortal life. A child I could raise with Avery.

  I moved away, consoled by the fact that the adult Mallory waited for me in the present. I was also consoled by the fact that the prayer to save his son, that had kept Avery’s father wandering through America for years, had not gone unanswered. For unbeknownst to him, a night of passion with a beautiful, red-haired woman had produced a child he had never known of. During those years, he had often thought of the beautiful woman whose flame-coloured hair had been a beacon on a dark and stormy night. He had considered going back to the town and finding her. If he had, he would have spent the rest of his days relatively happy and with a child whom he could perhaps atone for his past sins, something he could never have done even if he had found Avery. Unfortunately he had continued on in his fruitless search. Although Mallory was not aware of the fact that the being who had become her adopted father was in fact related to her, she had been able to do what Leonard Wentworth’s soul had prayed for: save Avery and keep him in the world long enough for me to return to him.

  I was drawn now to the call of one who had waited aeons for me.

  Akan.

  I found myself in the woodland on the Holbert plantation. He was there waiting for me beneath the trees in the timid sunlight filtering through the trees, and had been for so long.

  When I was before him, he got to his knees and bowed his head, one hand against his heart. I placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “Get to your feet, old friend. Why have you summoned me?” I said, knowing now why he had appeared to me as the brown mare that had been crucial in helping me save Avery’s life centuries ago.

  He rose and peered down at me.

  “Goddess. It was foretold long ago that I had your favour, and you would grant me whatever it is I ask of you. I have waited a very long time to be able to do so.”

  “What do you wish of me?”

  He sighed and hung his head. There was much emotion in his gaze when he looked up at me again.

  “First I need to show you the rest of my story.”

  I nodded and our surroundings began to change as time bowed and surrendered before me, letting thousands of years drift away like leaves on a warm summer breeze. And I learned what became of the little girl who had dared believe she was a goddess.

  Chapter 31

  Years passed and Alayai grew lovelier with each day, but the endless days confined to the temple were painful for her. She was twelve now and although her face had lost its childlike glow and her body was beginning to soften into womanhood, the path to marriage, children—life—was closed to her. She was destined to waste her years away in the suffocating temple, burdened with entreaties, petitions and endless disputes, not to mention tributes from the many villagers that came to worship the earthly incarnation of the goddess of the moon. Only Akan’s visits a few nights each week brought respite from her boredom and isolation. The many attendants she spent the long, tiring days with merely another part of the temple—silent, fearful embodiments of stone.

  Akan thought often of taking the child goddess away one night, along with Rutia, Tanu and the child Rutia had borne a few years ago, Essa. He thought of them all disappearing into the woods and getting as far away from the village as possible. But he knew it would be suicide. On his own, he could easily elude and outrun his pursuers. But with his wife and children, their pursuers would soon catch and slaughter them all. And the goddess would be taken back to the temple, bereft of even the brief respite Akan’s presence provided. Fleeing was not an option, but it was sometimes difficult to talk himself out of rescuing Alayai from the life Mutata had trapped her in.

  Alayai seemed to deal with her isolation by focusing her feelings of frustration and anger on Mutata and she found new and ingenious ways of humiliating him whenever she saw him.

  On one occasion the chief priests were performing rites of thanksgiving to the goddess for yet another abundant harvest. Alayai’s gaze had been on Mutata the entire time, shards of icy malice in her eyes.

  “Clearly Mutata is enjoying the abundant harvest, if we are to judge from his increased girth,” she said the moment the rites of thanksgiving ended. Her laughter, like the tinkling of bells, rang out through the temple.

  The strain of the past few years had seen the lines on Mutata’s face increase in number, along with his waistline, and his hair was thinning rapidly. Alayai leaned forward, her eyes narrowed, her lips spread in a sneer.

  “What does your wife think of your fat stomach, Mutata? But I suppose it is of no consequence, for it has been a long time since your weapon has been able to rise to the occasion.”

  Gasps rang out in the temple chamber. Mutata turned a bitter shade of red. Alayai laughed. Mutata stood, his hands clenched into fists. He stared long and hard at the child goddess and then stormed out of the temple. Alayai continued to laugh long after he had departed.

  That night Akan went to see Alayai at the temple. She was speaking about Jow, who had long found ways of dealing with Alayai’s sometimes waspish tongue. Each time the living idol came into contact with another, a series of prayers lasting an hour long had to be performed to cleanse her from their tainted touch. So whenever Alayai did something Jow did not approve of, she found ways to touch the goddess seemingly by accident—her fingers grazing against Alayai’s when she passed her a plate of food, or some other method—just so Alayai would have to endure the hour-long cleansing rites. Jow had done it twice that day and Alayai was furious but, of course, she could say nothing to Jow or even have her replaced, as Jow
made it possible for Akan to visit the goddess without being discovered.

  When Alayai broke off from complaining about Jow, Akan brought up the matter that had taken place earlier on that day.

  “Alayai. What you said to Mutata. Do you know what those words meant?”

  “It humiliated him. I will be surprised if he can bear to show his face at least for the next week.”

  “Yes, but do you know what it means?”

  “No, Akan I do not,” she snapped, growing a warm shade of pink. “What does that matter?”

  “Alayai. The spirits may tell you things, but that does not mean you should repeat them. For a child to speak of a man’s private matters—it is simply not done.”

  “I am not a child! I am a god! I have prevented the destruction of the Enwa people and so I will treat them as I see fit. Do not tell me what I can or cannot do, Akan!”

  He leaned back, raised an eyebrow, and waited. The silence within the cool temple stretched to a taut band before she looked away and at the ground.

  Akan may not have had the cleansing ritual to use as a punishment for insolence, but he found those silences just as effective, if not more so.

  “As I was saying, Alayai. There are things concerning a man’s business grown men do not speak of, much less a child. Never say anything like that again. Do you understand?”

  She was silent for a few moments and then nodded.

  As had been the case for years now, she would heed Akan for a few days, maybe even weeks, before she found another way to humiliate Mutata. In that way she was a beautiful little bird, slowly pecking her enemy to death. But Mutata was like a fat alligator sleeping in the sun. It would only take one strike and he could kill the little bird.

  Akan got to his feet. “I should go. Essa usually awakes at this time. She is a sweet child, but troublesome at times. Not unlike someone I know very well.”

  He had said the words with a gentle smile. But at the mention of the baby, Alayai’s face tightened and she blinked rapidly as if some pain touched her heart.

  Alayai had been like this about the child since the day Akan told her Rutia had given birth to a girl. He had asked to bring the child to the temple at night so Alayai could see her, but Alayai had always refused.

  “My children—all of you—mean much to me. I hope you know this, Alayai.”

  She didn’t answer, her face still a taut mask. He exited the temple, feeling again his desire to take Alayai and his family away from the village. But he had already resigned himself to the fact that it could never be.

  ***

  Akan had been so entirely focussed on trying to protect Alayai from Mutata’s wrath that when danger arose from another direction, he failed to see it.

  Tanu was now at the age where he was permitted to enter the temple. For the first few months he had gone every day, his enchanted gaze on the goddess, his mouth hanging open as he stared upon her beautiful visage—much to the amusement of most of the temple elders. She was all he spoke of at home. Her voice, how beautiful she was and, of course, the charcoal-coloured eyes with a ring of blue surrounding it. She seemed to take a special interest in Tanu, her gaze meeting his love struck one much more than was necessary, and Akan had cautioned her not to show anyone any special favour. She was a living idol and above all her subjects. She had heeded him, trusting him in everything in the role he had assumed without even being aware of it; that of the father she had been snatched from.

  A few months after his warning to Alayai, Tanu swiftly overcame his obsession with her. He stopped going to the temple and the constant stream of talk about the goddess abruptly dried up. Akan laughed at the boy.

  “Tanu, you have talked nonstop about the goddess since you were four only to lose interest in her in just a few months? Has someone else caught your interest? Tell me who.”

  A lean, sensitive child by nature with gentle brown eyes and a generous mouth, Tanu had merely smiled, almost sadly, in response but said nothing more on the matter.

  Not long after, Alayai requested Akan’s visits be decreased to once a week. It did not seem to be an unusual request as she had found a way to have Akan in the temple daily. He missed those nightly visits, but accepted she was growing older and was less in need of his guidance. She also seemed to have mellowed over the past few weeks, her lips quick to bless her subjects with a smile, her attacks on Mutata ceasing entirely. Perhaps she had fully accepted her role as goddess and the limitations it placed on her life no longer tormented her as it had done. Still, he missed their nightly visits.

  One night he awoke, and finding himself unable to sleep, decided to sit outside in the cool night air in the hopes it would help pull sleep to him. He moved past Tanu’s sleeping quarters toward the exit only to come to a stop. His instincts were pricking him, and never being one to ignore those instincts which had saved his life on more than one occasion, he returned to Tanu’s sleeping quarters. It was empty. Frowning, he exited the house. Tanu was not outside. Akan would have returned to bed and questioned the boy in the morning, but his instincts were still pricking him, letting him know all was not well.

  He moved out of the courtyard and into the night. He did not even know where he was headed until he found himself halfway toward the temple. He entered the hidden tunnel, and emerged at the secret entrance. Jow was the only one to notice him enter the temple, nearly hidden by the shadows. She glanced at him, sorrow in her eyes, before her gaze returned to the altar.

  Alayai was not asleep in her room as Akan had expected her to be. She was sitting with her legs crossed at the foot of the altar.

  Sat beside her was Tanu. They didn’t notice Akan, as they only had eyes for each other, their heads bent as they spoke, their whispers barely disturbing the silence in the temple. Akan’s gaze returned to Jow. He expected to see anger in her eyes, for in a way this was his fault. He only saw sorrow. He disappeared into the secret tunnel.

  He sighed when he got out into the night, his emotions conflicted. When he first saw Tanu sitting beside Alayai, he felt only joy. It had quickly been replaced with anxiety. He sighed again and made his way back home.

  He waited for Tanu outside their home, hidden in the shadows by the side of the house until Tanu returned many hours later.

  “Where have you been, Tanu?” Akan said, moving out of the shadows and into the moonlight.

  Tanu came to an abrupt halt, his eyes like that of a startled bird in his slim, girlish face that was only just beginning to show the hardness of a man’s.

  “Father,” he replied, his expression becoming closed, a sly look in his eyes. “I could not sleep, so I—”

  “Do not lie to me. I know where you were.” He closed the space between him and Tanu and caught the boy by the shoulders in a rough grip.

  “Do you know the danger in what you have been doing? Do you understand it could get you killed if they ever find out?”

  Tanu’s lip quivered in fear, but he tilted his head back in defiance.

  “Do you?” Tanu shot back.

  Akan released him and stared at him for a few moments, the boy shrinking under his gaze. Akan struck him. The boy merely stood there, his jaw clenched, fighting back tears.

  “Do not speak to me so. I am a man. I am able to deal with the consequences. You are only a boy.”

  “You’re a coward,” Tanu said, his lip quivering once more, the tears he had been trying to fight back falling down his cheeks. “Why don’t you tell them she is just a girl, not their stupid goddess? If you were a man, you would take her away from that temple.”

  Akan was silent, shocked by the words along with the strength of the boy’s emotion.

  “Do you think I have not thought of it?” he said. “But what do you think they would do? They would kill you, your mother and sister as punishment. Then they would find us and kill me, too, before they took her back to that temple to continue being a prisoner.”

  “No one could kill you,” Tanu said. “You defeated one hundred men in battle si
nglehandedly. No one could kill you.”

  “That is a child talking. I am one man. I cannot defeat every warrior in this village. Alayai is the living idol. She can never marry. That will always be the case. This stops now. Tomorrow you will tell her this.”

  Tanu stared at him aghast, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks.

  “But I love her.”

  Akan felt his heart tighten into a tiny ball, the two headed snake like ice against it.

  “Those words mean nothing. Nothing! Do you understand? After tomorrow you will never see Alayai again unless you go to the temple during the day to worship the goddess like the other villagers.”

  “I will soon be a man and you will not tell me I cannot go to her. I will be the one to take her away from the temple and not even you will be able to stop me!”

  He walked away and into the house, leaving Akan alone in the night, the two headed snake like a lump of ice in his chest so he was sure he would never feel warmth in his heart again.

  If only what Tanu wished were possible, but it was only the dreams of a child.

  ***

  The following night Akan was waiting outside their home when Tanu returned from the temple. Tanu’s face was set, his eyes red, the skin around them rubbed raw. He did not look at his father but entered the house without a word.

  In the morning Tanu would not even look at Akan let alone speak to him. Rutia merely looked at the two of them, shook her head, and pretended to be unaware of the tension.

  At the temple, the goddess did not glance Akan’s way once. The softening he had observed over the past few weeks was gone. Her gaze was hard, the skin between her eyebrows pinched, her responses a lot sharper than usual. Mutata, as always, bore the brunt of her ill mood.

  A few nights later, Akan dared to go and see Alayai at the temple. When he arrived in the main chamber, he was met by Jow.

  “The goddess is asleep,” he was told.