Demon's Arrow

by Rachel Devenish Ford

  Gavi shrugged and pointed at Herrith. “This man has spent his entire life here. It seems that Nenyi asks things that we couldn’t have fathomed in our safe world. Look around you. This whole world belongs to Nenyi, not just our part of it. What is going on here? What is going on across the seas? It’s time for us to wake up.”

  * * *

  Ben was up at the break of dawn after a fitful sleep. He had wrestled with Gavi’s words all night long. What was his part? Why was it that he could hear everything, the life song of every person, but didn’t know what to do with what he heard?

  He got dressed and went to the kitchens to see if Herrith had awoken. Gavi was preparing the morning bread and the head chef had not yet entered the kitchen, so Ben peeked into the closet room. Herrith was still in there, eyes closed, breathing softly. Ben heard Herrith’s dimmed music and the wild music that was laid over it. He hurried away. It was time to escape the palace and find the others.

  The palace was in an uproar as the king searched for Herrith and couldn’t find him. Ben kept his head down and his ser over his head as he crept behind the hedge, through the garden toward the outer wall, overhearing snatches of conversation.

  “They’ve dressed her. The king will continue, despite the red robe’s disappearance.”

  “He believes something is trying to prevent the naming day.”

  “The horses are ready . . .”

  The web of magic over Herrith must be hiding him from the king’s sight. Ben slipped through the garden door while the guard had his back turned. If there was any less chaos he would never have been able to get away. In his head he cracked the door open to hear the music. He braced himself, nearly sinking to his knees, as the sounds rushed at him, and he listened for only a moment before he had to shut the door again. He leaned against a nearby wall, trying to catch his breath, and jumped when he heard a voice.

  “Ben.”

  He turned and gasped. “Brigid, what are you doing here?”

  “Looking for you. We need your help with the plan today. We’re supposed to be over at the stadium prison.”

  “I . . . don’t think I can come. I need to stay here. There’s something wrong, Brigid. I can’t explain how bad it sounds . . . but it is very bad.”

  She nodded, eyes wide in her pale face. “I have seen visions that are very confusing. But I have also seen the captives running out of their cages. I must go and help them. Please come with me.”

  He stared at her outstretched hand. He put his hand in hers and squeezed it, briefly. “Brigid, no, I’m sorry. I need to stay near Aria. Something is wrong.”

  She sighed, then nodded. “The Shaper be with you.”

  A call went out. “The procession is starting!”

  Benayeem fled, looking for a safe place to watch. This was all wrong. Herrith was supposed to be here, helping. But Herrith had told them the king’s plan, and Ben tried to remember it as best he could. He ran down the hill. The procession would start at the palace and then move down toward the king’s lower gardens, where Aria would be named heir.

  As he stepped into the garden, he heard the wild notes of Nenyi’s song that permeated the place and felt shaken as he recognized it. What was the Shaper doing? Surely the Desert King would never allow Aria to be named heir in this garden, where Nenyi’s magic was so strong. And why did Herrith’s sleep sound like Nenyi’s song?

  There were many people already gathered, waiting for the procession, talking quietly among themselves. Ben slipped through the crowd, listening for signs, wishing he could understand what was happening. It was a colorful group. The people were dressed for celebration, wearing long embroidered tunics over shimmering pants, and great, glittering turbans or headdresses. In one corner, Ben found three little children standing on tiptoe, trying to see over the garden wall. Ben helped the littlest one up to sit on top, and as he did so, he laid his hand on part of the wall and a small section crumbled away to dust. He quickly took his hand away. The children stared at him with wide eyes.

  “That’s a very old wall,” he told them, and left, making sure not to touch the wall anymore. Nenyi’s magic was strong in this place. What was the king thinking? Murmurs of the procession’s progress were being passed along by the people who lined the roads, so they knew that it was up near the market, and then it was by the ancient school, and moving closer. As Ben paced, he realized that he could see shapes in the edges of his vision, transparent and fiery, shimmers of fire flying around the garden. When he turned to look straight at them, they disappeared. “Firebirds,” he breathed. He had heard of firebirds but he had never seen them. And there were tall beings, barely shaped like anything he knew, striding around the garden. What were they? Was he losing his mind?

  There was a shout. The procession had been spotted. In the very front, Aria rode a horse led by a guard. Around her were more guards on horses, and Ben saw his own horse, Night, directly behind her. Isika’s horse, Wind, was beside him. They pranced more than the other horses, unused to the strong poison of the Desert City. Ben felt despair as he watched them toss their heads. Of course they would be recognized, how had Isika and Jabari not seen it? The two horses were larger, stronger, and more spirited than the other horses of the procession, and though their riders were dressed in the colors of the other guards, they also stood out. Of course they couldn’t go unseen. The cheers of the people grew louder and louder as the procession came close, until Ben could barely hear his music. He needed to listen. Something was wrong. What was it?

  The Desert King. Herrith had said that the Desert King would be here in the garden. Ben looked around. There he was, right over there, in the pavilion where the ceremony would be held. But his music wasn’t with him in the garden. It was with Aria as she rode. How was he doing that?

  Ben stood waiting for them to enter the garden, but the procession stopped just before the gate, and then the Desert King’s music was very, very strong, and Ben was slipping through the crowd, toward the gates, as fast as he could, running to Isika and Jabari to warn them. The Desert King wasn’t where he was supposed to be. The king in the garden must be a fake.

  There was another shout. Dirty, angry, ragged people poured into the garden over the walls. Abbas and Enfa were there, and so was Brigid with her teeth bared and a staff in one hand. The prisoners had been set free.

  Chaos erupted. Ben shut the door very firmly in his mind. He needed to reach Isika but he couldn’t break through the crowd.

  He saw it as though dreaming. Isika, dressed in the guard uniform, moved toward Aria and snatched up the reins of her horse, pulling them away from the guard leading her. The horses turned and Isika began to ride away, Aria in tow. They made their way out, one step, two steps, and the plan was working because the other guards were lost in the chaos of the escaping captives!

  But then Aria pulled a sword from her cloak and leaned across her horse, swinging at Isika’s arm, leaving a long gash on her shoulder. Isika screamed, and the sound did something crazy to Ben’s brain. Aria struck again, this time slicing along Isika’s leg. Ben broke away from the crowd and sprinted toward the horses, his heart in his mouth.

  The rider on Night roared. Jabari tore his helmet and ser off his face as Night reared up on his hind legs.

  “Aria, stop!” he shouted. “You don’t know what you’re doing!”

  Olumi was there very suddenly, tiny before the horses, his hair piled on his head, both hands stretched out. As Ben listened, he heard a low humming noise coming from the keeper of truth, and something happened to Aria’s face. She blinked and did not strike again.

  Ben ran as fast as he could toward them, strangely able to get through the crowd. But as he did, the guard near Aria rippled in the air. Something seemed to fall from him and his music blasted Ben, who stumbled and nearly fell. He became taller and his face changed. He became Ikajo, the Desert King.

  “She knows exactly what she is doing,” he told Jabari, his lip curled. Then, to Isika, he said, “I knew you would com
e.”

  Chapter 34

  The world shrank and became very narrow, as though all of it was centered on one spot—the Desert King’s face. Isika felt like her shoulder was on fire. Blood continued to spill from the wound, soaking her guard uniform. Her circlet flared with heat and she gripped Queen Azariyah’s staff in her good hand. It glowed with light, sending waves of power up her arm and across, to her injured shoulder. But the pain was relentless.

  The four cats had come running when the sword sliced her. Now they stood around her, muscles tensed. Their eyes were on Aria.

  Do not attack, Isika warned them.

  We will wait for your word, Hera said, even as the youngest cat hissed in disapproval.

  Isika dragged her eyes away from her father’s face and looked at her sister.

  “I will not fight you, sister,” she said. “You are in my heart forever.”

  Aria stood frozen, holding the bloody sword in front of her like a spear, like she didn’t know what she was doing with it. Olumi stood nearby, holding his hands out toward Aria. Tiny shimmers of light came from his finger tips and flew to land gently on Aria’s face. She blinked and Isika saw her in there, behind the mask of Ikajo on her face, looking out from inside a cage.

  Isika turned back to the Desert King and screamed at him. “Let her go! This is you, all of it is you! Stop hurting her! Let her go back where she belongs!”

  The king narrowed his eyes and took small steps toward her, hands out. Isika could barely see for pain in her shoulder and leg. It was going to make her faint and she felt paralyzed on her horse. She needed to dismount before she fell off.

  She looked for Jabari. Oh, he was beside her with Ben, holding a hand to the wound in her leg. She met his frantic eyes. Help me get down, she said in her mind.

  He went to the other side of the horse and put one hand on her good leg while she swung the hurt leg over the horse and slithered to the ground. She realized immediately that she couldn’t put any weight on her hurt leg, so she leaned on Jabari heavily, her good arm around his shoulders, and the two of them turned to face the Desert King. She gripped her staff with the hand that was around Jabari’s shoulders. Ben was behind them. Isika took a breath that was more like a moan, as behind the king, four giant ashy lizards poured out of the ground and wove toward them, hissing as one.

  “Never,” they said in their hissing, sing-song voices. “Aria has the poison of the mud demons, she is of the Baloto now.”

  The Desert King held up a hand, and the lizards stopped in their tracks, standing there waving back and forth. Isika pulled her eyes away from them, but she could see that Aria was transfixed.

  “You still don’t understand,” the king said coldly, frowning at them. “She is mine. You are mine. He,” he scowled at Ben and pointed at him, “is mine, though I don’t want him. There is nothing you can do to persuade me to let you go. I will never let you go.”

  “You have never had me!” Isika shrieked at him with all the power she had left. Her head felt woozy, her face hot and cold. There were spots in her vision. Her circlet felt as though it was burning into her forehead. Vaguely, she noticed crowds of people running and fighting around them. She saw Abbas guiding half the captives up one alley and his sister guiding the rest up another. She saw other palace guards laid out on the ground and she realized that it was working. They had gotten the captives out and soon they would be away from here. Now all they needed was Aria and they would be able to leave this horrible place.

  Palipa, be ready, Isika called. Keerza, I need you now.

  The cats shimmered in front of Isika, becoming visible as they prepared for a jump, muscles tense, holding very still. They locked eyes on the king, who glared down at them and held his hands out as if he only waited to blast them.

  “You don’t understand, King Ikajo,” Isika said, trying to stay awake. “You are not our father in anything but blood. You lost your right to be our father when you hurt our mother. I do not belong to you. I do not belong to any one person, but I belong to the earth and the sky and these cats and the Keerza and Othra. I belong to my people and I belong to water. I belong to the Naia and I belong to Aria and I belong to Ben and to Jabari. I am everyone’s and no one’s. I belong to Nenyi but I will never belong to you. Even if you kill me right now I will not belong to you.”

  The earth was shaking under her feet. Jabari tightened his arm on her shoulder and stood very tall. She let go of him and allowed him to hold onto her as the king continued to walk toward them, holding his hands out. The cats hissed and spit as he drew near. Isika held the staff out in front of her, pointing it at the tall, hateful man who was her father.

  “I don’t quite think you understand how powerful my magic is, child,” he said, in a soft voice that hurt Isika’s ears. Behind him, Aria tried to dismount, but she was too weak and couldn’t get her leg over the saddle. Isika longed to go help her, but suddenly Gavi was there, offering her a hand. She looked at it for a long moment, then put her hand into his. As she did, her eyes changed again. She stared first at Isika, then the sword in her hand with horror on her face.

  “Isika?” she asked. “Did I hurt you?” She slid down the side of the horse and held onto Gavi’s shoulder, then took a step toward Isika.

  “Aria!” Isika called. Her shoulder and leg throbbed and the pain filled her brain until she almost couldn’t think. She panted, her breaths coming in short, painful gasps. “Aria, come, sister. Come with us.”

  Jabari looked at her with wild eyes. “We have to get you to a healer,” he said, his voice urgent. “You’re bleeding too much. We can’t stay here.”

  Ikajo had paused when Aria spoke, but seeing that she wasn’t going anywhere, he took another step toward Isika.

  “Stop there,” Jabari warned.

  Ikajo smiled, then held his hands out and the ground shook beneath them, sending waves of pain through Isika. She gasped and her horse neighed loudly and lifted his feet off the ground, stomping down.

  Keerza, Isika called. Now I need you. Can you come?

  We don’t need them, Hera told her, and in one long ripple of muscle, she leapt at the king, claws out. He lifted a hand and deflected the attack, knocking the cat to the side as easily as if she was a kitten. She slammed into a wall and lay still.

  Ikajo smiled again. Isika hated his smile, hated him being happy. He was only happy with evil things.

  “What happened to you?” she whispered. “How did you get like this?”

  “What’s that, little girl? Are your whisperer powers deserting you in my city? Not so powerful here, are they? That’s the problem with only drawing on your whisperer blood. You have no power away from nature. Weak.” He glared at Jabari. “And you, boy, remind me of a man I have heard about. Isika’s grandfather, a man who desperately wanted to protect the woman he loved, his wife. He died too.”

  He lifted a hand as he said it and Isika flinched, preparing herself for a blast toward Jabari, which would hit her as well, but as Ikajo lifted his hand, another long, lithe shape leapt at him. The youngest cat sprang at Ikajo’s face, and this time he didn’t see it in time. Her claws made contact and Ikajo screamed and fell. Jabari whirled, picking Isika up, shouting, “Gavi! The garden!”

  Isika may have passed out as Jabari ran, because the next thing she knew, she was lying on her good side in the garden, her cheek pressed to the grass. The earth’s life song was sending strength into her, and through her half-closed eyes she could see that the garden was filled with the fire of a thousand flaming birds.

  She closed her eyes. She could still see the fire birds. She watched them behind her eyelids for a while, but Jabari wouldn’t leave her alone.

  “Wake up, Isika. He’ll be back. You have to stay here to use your power. The garden will help you. I will fight him as long as I can, but he is much stronger than me. You are the only one stronger than him. You need to fight. Come on, my friend, you can do it.”

  She shook her head. Sleep, she told him.

&n
bsp; “Come on Isika, my love. You can sleep later. We’ll go to the tree at home. You can rest there. I’ll go with you every day. Right now you need to fight. Open your eyes. Aria is here and she wants to talk to you.”

  Isika felt Jabari’s soft lips on her forehead and she smiled, then her eyes flew open to find him very near. She reached for his hand, then sat up slowly. The garden had stopped her bleeding, but pain overwhelmed her until she wanted to scream. She looked at Aria, who sat on the grass, flanked by Olumi and Gavi.

  “Sister,” she said.

  “Isika,” Aria murmured, her voice heartbroken.

  Isika stood shakily, walking close to her sister and sinking down beside her, gasping in pain. She put her good arm around Aria’s shoulder and Aria turned her head into Isika’s shirt and wept.

  “What have I done?” she asked. “I’m so tired. I can’t trust anything, not my heart, not my thoughts. I very nearly share his head.”

  “We’ll get you out of here,” Isika murmured, content to have her sister in her arms. She listened for the sound of the Keerza. They were coming, she heard their distant hoofbeats. And the fire birds flew around them, filling the garden with song and fire that radiated warmth and light.

  “You are wrong.” The voice was loud, filling the air with a piercing, metal-tinged anger, and Isika winced. Beside her, Aria wilted and Jabari tensed.

  Isika sighed. “What now?” she asked, turning her head to look at the king. He stood just outside the gate of the garden, she noted with interest. But then she saw the cats lying in heaps around him. “What did you do to them?” she demanded.

  “What I will do to every one of you if you do not cease this futile resistance. You can’t take Aria anywhere. She has already completed the inheritance ceremony, this morning in my chambers.” He brushed at his robes and hair, which were messy and dusty. “Of course we wouldn’t leave it to chance, how could you think it? If you try to take her out of the walls of this city, she will die immediately. If you try to keep her away from the palace, she will wither and die slowly. Her life is tied to mine as surely as if I held it in my hand.” He held one hand out and then closed it quickly. As he did, Aria fainted.