Dark Requiem (The Darkling Trilogy, Book 3)

by A. D. Koboah

  “It is as it was foretold!” someone screamed. “The days of darkness are here. We’re all going to die!”

  Those words spurred Akan into action. He looked to the path that would take him to his wife and children, who were surely filled with terror at the sky above being eaten away.

  Then he turned and fled toward the temple and Alayai.

  By the time Akan reached the temple, nearly half the sun had been devoured. A heavy gloom lay on the village, along with an ominous chill that had descended around him and wormed its way into his soul.

  He found Alayai sitting before the altar, her small face pale with terror. Many people had sought sanctuary in the temple and were cowering, screaming and praying in terror, begging the goddess to save them.

  “Please do not be frightened. I am your goddess,” Alayai said. “Trust in me and I will not let anything happen to you. Please listen to me. What you have seen means nothing. You must trust me.”

  The words of comfort were undermined by the violent tremors that shook her tiny frame along with the fact that even within the temple, that chill had gathered like malevolent spirits thirsting for blood and the very air whispered of malice.

  Relief crossed Alayai’s features when she saw Akan. He went to the altar and it took all his willpower not to take her into his arms and run away. But they would never be able to escape the heavens taking their revenge on the Enwa people. Instead, he kneeled before her.

  “Goddess...I...”

  His words trailed away, for there was nothing he could say. The heavens had spoken, the prophecy was coming to pass.

  It seemed an age, endless moments filled with unimaginable fear and despair, before they realised whatever had eaten the sun was now passing over it.

  “It has ended,” someone declared. “It was the moon. The moon fought with the sun, but the sun scared it away. We will not die. We are saved.”

  Relief poured through the temple, but it did not touch Akan’s heart, or Alayai, who was still trembling.

  “But what did it mean?” another asked.

  Everyone was looking at Alayai, whose face was completely pale in the dim light in the temple. She jumped as if she had been struck when Mutata and Akuna entered the temple.

  Her gaze still on Mutata and with fear alight in her eyes, she spoke.

  “It means nothing. Believe in me, that is all I ask of you. What you saw meant nothing.”

  “It means for years we have been led astray by one who has the audacity to call herself a goddess,” Mutata spat, his face red and twisted with rage. “No one can deny what we saw. The gods are angry at being denied sacrifices and it is all because of the false god you see before you!”

  Mutata made a move toward Alayai only to come to an abrupt halt when Akan blocked his path. Akan removed the robe he always wore and placed a hand on the dagger at his hip.

  Mutata’s face went slack, his eyes on the dagger.

  “Dare utter another word against the divine one and I will slit your throat,” Akan hissed. “Listen to her. She said it meant nothing.”

  “H-he is right,” Jow said, the first time Akan had heard her speak during the day when everyone was present. “We must listen to the divine one. She has never led us astray.”

  Mutata took a step back, his gaze on Akan, his eyes assessing him as if he saw something no one else could see.

  “We are listening, Goddess,” Mutata finally said, his gaze still on Akan, his mouth turned into a sneer. “Tell us what we must do to appease the gods.”

  Alayai was looking from Akan to Mutata, the tremors running through her growing more violent. When she gazed at the scars on Akan’s chest and arms, her face creased with that perceived pain he had seen the first time she saw his scarred flesh. This time fear lurked behind it bringing tears to her eyes. She was staring at Akan when she spoke.

  “We...we have to appease the gods with sacrifices. Fifty—no—one hundred sacrifices are required to appease the gods or the prophecy will come to pass.”

  At the mention of sacrifices, Mutata finally tore his gaze away from Akan and to Alayai, his lips still curled in a sneer.

  Akuna spoke. “Sacrifices. The gods demand sacrifices. One hundred men women and children have to be selected.”

  Akuna moved to the door. Mutata glared at Akan, a faint smile on his lips. Mutata walked out of the temple, no doubt knowing it was only a matter of time—most likely days—before he would get what he had waited years for: The death of the child he had made a god.

  When he had gone, Alayai turned to Akan. She stared at him for a long moment, her face sombre.

  “I wish I had seen Essa. It is all I can think of, to have seen her so I can hold the memory of your faces when...when...” She looked away from him, her face hard. “I order you to leave the temple and help them select the sacrifices. Take Jow and Topa with you.”

  Akan gaped at her and anger immediately made heat flush his face.

  She was telling Akan to leave and take his family away from the village. He realised now it had been a mistake to take off his robe at that moment. Mutata now knew Akan had been helping Alayai all these years. Letting Alayai see his scars at that moment had scared her into demanding sacrifices in order to distract Mutata.

  Akan was silent for a long moment, then he kneeled before the child goddess, trembling in anger that his actions had once more caused Alayai to make a decision that put her in danger.

  When he got to his feet, he looked to Jow standing in a corner of the temple. Her gaze was determined when it met his. She too had understood what Alayai was trying to do, but he knew she would not leave without her child goddess.

  Akan moved to Topa and took the bewildered girl by the arm. He did not give her a chance to argue, but pulled her toward the temple door. He paused at the entrance to look back at Alayai.

  Her gaze was on him, her face set in an impenetrable mask. He was sure if he had been close enough, he would have seen that her eyes were filled with tears. The snake wrapped around his heart trembled as he turned and walked out of the temple, dragging Topa with him, leaving Alayai alone and unprotected.

  ***

  Although the phenomenon which saw the sun disappear from the sky had ended, the levels of panic outside the temple had not abated. Fear spread through the village like a fiery serpent as the guards began to round up the one hundred men, women and children that were to be sacrificed. People were in various stages of distress and terror, some claiming to have had their eyesight stolen by the sky gods. Akan barely registered what was happening around him, his thoughts on Alayai unprotected in the temple.

  He hurried to his home, dragging Topa with him.

  He arrived to find Rutia in their sleeping space, Essa and Tanu held tight to her.

  “You do not need to be afraid. It is over. Whatever it was, it has ended,” Akan said.

  Essa ran into her father’s arms, even Tanu moved to him and embraced him. Rutia just stood watching Akan. She burst into tears.

  “Rutia.” Akan broke away from Tanu and Essa and took hold of Rutia’s arms. “Please, I have never seen you cry in all the time you have been my wife. Please, I need you to be strong now because you have to leave. The goddess is demanding sacrifices and we do not know how many Mutata will kill.” He began moving around the room, gathering things for them to take.

  “I came across a group of nomads in the woods three days before. They were camped by the river. They will be there for a few more days before they move north. If you hurry you will be able to catch them there and go with them. You will be safe with them.”

  “But what about you?” Tanu asked.

  Akan stopped and stared at his son.

  “The goddess asked that you take them to safety, Tanu. She did not say I should also leave. Only you and them.” Akan took hold of Tanu by the shoulders in a firm grip. “Promise me—promise the goddess—you will take them to safety.”

  He nodded and Akan could see he was trying to fight back tears.
r />   They left with Topa and their servants, taking only what they could carry. Akan went with them as far as the edge of the woods. Under the thinning light within the trees, he held Essa in his arms for a long moment before he handed her to Rutia. He embraced Tanu and then his wife. Tears flowed down his face as he watched them move away farther into the woodlands until they were out of sight.

  When Akan returned to the temple that evening, there were guards stationed outside all of the temple entrances including the secret tunnels which Akan had hoped he could use to get Alayai to safety. There were also guards stationed within the temple. Alayai did not appear to be surprised to see him although tears filled her eyes. When he knelt before her, she placed her hand on his head. It remained there for less than a second, but it spoke so clearly to him of the bond they shared, and also of what their expectations were of what the coming days would bring.

  ***

  The next few weeks saw the town descend to levels of blood and death that sickened Akan. Sacrifice after sacrifice after sacrifice was offered up to the gods, but still the spectre of the moon passing before the face of the sun like an angry god would not leave the Enwa people. Soon they stopped bothering to bring the sacrifices to the altar and just began slaughtering them in the streets. They also performed the ekniwa many times, but on each occasion, the ekniwa only threw forth screaming, blank-eyed madmen. No answers could be gleaned from them or what the portent they had all witnessed signified.

  With the entire village gripped in fear and frenzy for blood, the sacrifices continued. Those who were able to flee undetected did so. Those who tried to flee and were caught were tied to posts in the middle of the village. Their entrails were cut out and they were left to die slow, painful deaths. Through it all Akan remained at the goddess’s side, the only light amid the darkness was the thought of his family far from the blood, the screams that could be heard even in the temple and the bodies that met his gaze whenever he peered outside the temple doors.

  However, Akan was not surprised when Tanu entered the temple after the second week looking travel weary, his kilt still covered with dust and grime from his journey. Akan merely went to his son and placed his hands on his shoulders. He pulled him into an embrace.

  “Are they—?”

  “Yes,” Tanu answered. “We found the nomads almost straight away. I stayed with them for another day before I returned. When this is over I am sure we can find them again.”

  Akan nodded. Essa and Rutia were safe. Perhaps he could hope that what Tanu said would come to be. This would all end and he, Tanu and Alayai could leave the village and be reunited with Rutia and Essa. But looking at the guards whose gazes never left Alayai, or out at the blood-smeared village, the corpses nailed to the posts or lying in the streets, Akan found it difficult to see anything other than death and misery, but he would continue to hope.

  Akan knew Alayai was pleased to see Tanu, although she could not show it. Her eyes rarely left Tanu’s over the course of the next few weeks.

  Akan and Tanu remained in the temple by the side of the terrified child goddess. But they both knew that when Mutata satisfied his lust for blood, he would return to the temple and exact his vengeance on the child everyone believed had brought about this calamity on the Enwa people.

  After weeks of violence and anarchy, the elders called a meeting in the temple. Akan had not slept for more than a few hours a night during those weeks—much like everyone else who still remained in the near empty village. He began that day prepared for battle, but hoped the meeting would see an end to the bloodshed.

  Surprisingly, Mutata was not the one to speak. Akuna was.

  “It is clear the gods are angry with the Enwa people, and after much thought, we realise what, or who, is responsible. We need only look at your eyes to know you have brought this disaster on us, Goddess. Only your death can save us and make the gods return their favour to us.” He turned to six guards armed with daggers. “Take her outside to the sacrificial altar.”

  They moved toward her.

  Akan was on his feet, as quick as a cobra. His knife was swift and true, delivering its clean justice with two short thrusts. One across the neck of the first man, the other into the heart of the second. The others were at first too shocked to react and that earned the third man a quick thrust to the stomach. From the corner of his eye, Akan saw Tanu at the altar—dagger in hand—pulling Alayai off the platform and toward the secret passage at the rear of the temple. Alayai’s anguished gaze never left Akan.

  The possibility of having their prey snatched from their grasp plucked the other three guards out of their stupor. They descended on Akan. He sprung back from a blade aimed at his throat and caught the man’s wrist, slashing his stomach with his blade. The man doubled over in pain, his hands meeting to cup the blood spilling from the wound. Akan lunged forward only to stagger to a stop when a sharp pain flared along his lower back. Intense burning raged from that point, spreading to the rest of his torso.

  “Akan!”

  It was Alayai he heard scream his name. She was dragging Tanu to a stop. Tanu glanced behind him at his father. The boy’s face paled and despair drew his features into a tight knot. The dagger he held clattered to the ground. Another guard moved with lightning speed and buried his knife in Akan’s chest. Another stabbed him in the stomach, bringing him to his knees.

  Three other guards ran after Tanu and the goddess. Tanu’s gaze was locked on his father as Alayai tore loose from him, running straight into their pursuers, her gaze on Akan as he fell onto his back. Tears streamed down her face and her mouth was open in an oval of anguish. Tanu darted after her. He didn’t see one of the guards until he barrelled into him from his left, knocking him to the ground. The guard’s blade seemed to move of its own accord when it slid across Tanu’s throat. The boy brought his hand to his neck, trying to stem the blood gushing from the wound. The goddess was snatched up in the arms of one of the guards. She screamed, but then her eyes narrowed in spite and anger. She clawed at the guard’s face. He cried out, loosening his hold on her. She fell to the ground, only to be caught up in the arms of a second guard from behind. He crushed her in a bear hug whilst the first guard lifted her by her feet. She fought and kicked at the one who held her feet, succeeding in landing a blow to his face. Her sharp white teeth sank into the forearm of the one who held her in a bear hug. He howled in anger.

  In the end it was not the efforts of the two guards that subdued Alayai. Her anguished gaze fell on Akan and then the dying boy on the ground. When Tanu’s hands slipped from his throat to lie lifeless by his sides, his gaze going vacant, Alayai grew limp in the arms of her captors and let out a long wrenching scream that resonated through the temple.

  Akan felt any joy he had ever had in life leave with the spirit of his child. His heart was still beating, his eyes were open as blood gushed from his wounds, but he was already dead.

  The goddess was still screaming.

  Mutata came to stand over Akan.

  “I should have known you were the one who helped her all these years.”

  Mutata spat on Akan.

  “Kill her,” Mutata said to the men holding the limp goddess, his tone self-righteous in his long awaited moment of vengeance. “Cut her into pieces. Scatter the remains so her spirit will be an outcast, doomed to the underworld.”

  “Kill me, but you will never be free of my spirit. I am the goddess, the gatekeeper between worlds. Time is my servant. I will return and kill you all before sending you to the underworld where you will be the plaything of the vacoma for all of eternity.”

  Her face twisted in anguish, the hatred gone out of her eyes as they came to rest on Akan who was grimacing in pain, his breath coming out in sharp, hot bursts as his blood spread along the temple floor. Akan stared at Alayai, his eyes bright with tears which slid down his face even as he tried to lift himself off the ground so he could go to her aid.

  “Akan, Akan,” she cried.

  Akan didn’t see the fi
rst blow that struck her. He only heard a strangled cry and saw her tiny body dashed to the temple floor. She lifted her head, blood gushing from the wound and spilling down her face, her eyes searching for Akan’s. Her face fell slack and her mouth fell open when one of the guards smashed a rock against her head.

  Her eyes rolled into their sockets. She grew limp, her face crashing into the temple floor. Akan closed his eyes when he saw the same guard kneel before her lifeless body, the rock held aloft. But Akan could not block out the sickening crunching thuds he could hear as the guard repeatedly smashed the rock against her head.

  Akan tried to whisper Alayai’s name, but the strength that had seen him win countless battles finally departed and a veil of darkness fell over him.

  Chapter 34

  It was a long time before the darkness receded. Akan awoke to see a thin sliver of light and then Jow kneeling before him, her hands working at one of his wounds. He appeared to be in the little room Alayai slept in. Jow seemed unaware of the tears trailing down her cheeks. Akan gasped in pain and she halted, her gaze darting to his face.

  “Akan?”

  “Alayai?” His voice was a scratchy whisper.

  “They killed her. They killed the goddess. The village is deserted now. Only the two of us remain with the dead.”

  Pain seized him. He saw Alayai’s battered body and Tanu as his hands slipped from his torn throat. Akan grimaced in pain and a veil began to descend.

  “Akan!” Jow cried. “You cannot die. I will not let you die. Only you can call her spirit back. You were the only one she listened to. You can call her spirit back from the underworld so she will find peace.”