by Ayana Gray
Her teeth gnashed together at the same time something jolted in her chest. It was a confusing feeling, happy and angry all at once. Ekon stepped forward, the hall’s torchlight casting one side of his face in shadow. What little stubble he’d had the last time she’d seen him was gone; he was clean-shaven and wore a Son of the Six’s telltale blue tunic. His expression was tentative.
“Koffi,” he whispered in a voice only she could hear. “Koffi, I’m so sorry. I . . .”
Something rose in Koffi just then, a heat. It wasn’t pleasant or tingling, it wasn’t like the way she’d felt when the splendor had coursed through her, and it wasn’t anything like the joy she’d felt when Ekon’s lips had found hers in the jungle. This time, the words came from her mouth unbidden.
“I hate you.”
They sliced the air like a blade, and she watched as they found their mark on Ekon’s face. He recoiled, eyes flashing a hurt that almost made her sorry. Almost. His gaze dropped from hers as he looked to his feet, mouth set in a tight line. “Look, Koffi. I know you’re mad at me. You have every right to be. But I—”
“All those words . . .” It took every bit of Koffi’s willpower to keep her voice from trembling as she spoke. “None of them were true.”
“They were.” Ekon looked up, and though one side of his face was still obscured in shadow, the other side was pleading. “I wanted to say something, to stop them—”
“So why didn’t you?”
Ekon stared at his hands, as though trying to find the words, before he spoke.
“For a long time, the only thing I wanted was to be a Son of the Six,” he said quietly. “It was the only way I knew how to honor my family and my baba. Everything I did, every choice I made, was with that goal in mind. When I made my deal with you, it’s what I had in mind. I didn’t care about anything else. You were a means to an end.”
Koffi flinched, surprised at how much the words stung. The deal they’d struck felt like something from another life, from a Before. That was how things felt now, two parts of a whole, cleaved into the time Before Ekon had betrayed her, and the terrible After.
“But once we got into the jungle,” Ekon went on, “things started to change. What we saw while we were in there, what we did . . . I wasn’t expecting it. And then, I started to change, started realizing that maybe I did still want to be a Son of the Six and make my family proud, but I wanted something else too, I wanted”—his gaze dropped—“I wanted you.”
Koffi swallowed.
“Then my brother came to me,” said Ekon. “And it was like being ripped from a dream. It was like I was being pulled into two directions, pulled between something old and something new.” He looked up at her. “Haven’t you ever felt that, that pull?”
Koffi didn’t answer, she didn’t want to. She had felt that pull, she had been pulled between things. For most of her life, she’d been pulled between following her heart and her mind. In the end, it had been Ekon who’d told her she didn’t have to give in to that pull. He’d been the one to tell her she could follow both. She looked up and found Ekon’s eyes had locked on hers. She couldn’t read the expression on his face. Another minute passed before he spoke.
“Just so you know, I feel like dirt,” he said quietly. “I’ve never felt so bad in my life, and I know that still isn’t enough. I know I can’t ask you to just forgive and forget what I did.”
Koffi didn’t know if she could forgive and forget it either.
“But I’m going to get you out of here,” he said, voice strained. “I’m going to make this right.”
“What about Adiah?”
Ekon tensed, looking away from Koffi and down the hallway before leaning in. “That’s why I’ve come. I know what’s really been killing Lkossans now.”
Koffi straightened. “What?”
“It’s been”—Ekon hesitated—“it’s been the Sons of the Six.”
Koffi stepped back. Cool dread coursed through her body as Ekon’s impossible words sank in. No, it wasn’t true, it couldn’t be. The Sons of the Six could certainly be brutal, terrifyingly dedicated to their duty, but they weren’t murderers. Their job was to protect the city’s people. It didn’t make sense.
“How?” Her voice was hollow. “How could they do such a thing?”
Ekon was shaking his head. “I’m not sure they fully understand what they’re doing. They’re being . . . drugged. When I was in the temple, I saw Father Olufemi with one of the warriors. The warrior could only kind of remember hurting people, but he described it like a dream, something he wasn’t sure was real. Then Father Olufemi gave him something to smoke, packed into one of his pipes.”
Koffi swore, feeling the blood drain from her face. At Ekon’s confused look, she met his gaze. “I saw that pipe when I was in the Kuhani’s study looking for Nkrumah’s journal. It was on his desk, but I couldn’t see what was in it.”
“It was hard for me to see too,” said Ekon. “But it looked silver, like one of the plants I read about in Nkrumah’s journal. I think it’s called hasira, or—”
“Angry leaf.” Koffi went still. “My mama and I use that stuff at the Night Zoo to sedate the bigger animals. It’s incredibly dangerous. If a human ingested it—”
“The side effects are really bad,” said Ekon. “It’s a hallucinogen, and a highly addictive one at that. I think the Kuhani has been giving it to Sons of the Six, then ordering them to kill people.”
Koffi shook her head, disturbed. She thought of the people, the countless people, who’d been killed; she thought of Sahel and the way his body had been found, lacerated. She shuddered.
“There’s something I still don’t understand,” she said. “Why would Father Olufemi do this, Ekon? What does he have to—?”
They stilled, coming to the same understanding at once. They said the name at the same time.
“Fedu.”
“Badwa said whatever was really killing Lkossans would come from him,” said Ekon. “What if he’s already here, controlling Father Olufemi?”
“But where would he be?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “But we need to find Adiah and get her out of here before he gets to her.”
“Those other warriors.” Koffi nodded in the direction the other two had gone. “They said they were going to kill her tomorrow afternoon, right after . . .” For the first time, she felt the cold touch of fear. “Right after I’m flogged.”
Ekon’s face hardened. “That’s not happening. I won’t let it. I’m going to get you out of here, Koffi, I promise, and then we’ll get Adiah out too. We’ll get to the Kusonga Plains and end this.”
The words were noble, and Koffi found herself reminded of another time Ekon had said some noble-sounding words that had inspired her. She’d believed him then too, but . . .
“How? How are we going to do any of that?”
Ekon pressed his folded hands to his mouth, deep in thought for a second before he looked up again. “I have a plan, but I need you to trust me.”
Koffi stiffened. She didn’t trust Ekon at all. “What are you—?”
“Hey, Okojo!” A voice rang from down the hall. Peach Fuzz. “You still down there?”
Ekon looked down the hall, then back at Koffi. “Please.”
The words tumbled from Koffi’s mouth before she could stop them, and she prayed she wouldn’t regret them.
“Let’s go.”
CHAPTER 30
A Small Grief
Sweat slicked Ekon’s temple as he walked down the prison’s dank hallway.
Beside him, he thought he heard Koffi’s chattering teeth, but he didn’t look at her. Her wrists were bound and his grip on her was tight—probably too tight—but he needed this to be convincing.
It had to be convincing.
They reached the end of the hall, where two Sons of the Six leaned agains
t the wall. Ekon knew them, Chiteno and Fumbe, warriors from Kamau’s initiation year. He didn’t like either of them.
“I have to say”—Chiteno spoke first, looking down his nose as Ekon and Koffi approached—“I’m surprised to see you here, Warrior Okojo. Figured you’d be enjoying the party upstairs.”
Ekon kept his face impassive. “I still have things to take care of.”
Fumbe chuckled. “They’re always overeager at first.”
“Yeah.” Something glinted in Chiteno’s eyes. “It’ll be a few months before the newness wears off, before you have to do the dirty work.”
Dirty work. Ekon tried to ignore the chill on his skin. You’re murderers, he thought as he watched them chortle. One of you, maybe both of you. You’re murderers.
All his life, he’d wanted to be a part of this brotherhood, because he thought it would be the surest way to prove to himself and to his people that he was a man. He found he didn’t want any of it anymore.
“What are you doing with the daraja rat?” Fumbe asked, nodding to Koffi. “We were told she was staying here until morning.”
“There’s been a change in plans.” Ekon tried to sound as confident as he could. “Father Olufemi wants to see the daraja tonight. I have orders to escort her to his office, and to be discreet about it. He doesn’t want anyone else to see her.”
“Of course.” A wicked smile slashed across Chiteno’s face. “By all means, then, take her, maybe find a private corridor on your way there—she looks frigid.”
Ekon’s stomach twisted in disgust, but he kept his face impassive. “He told me to be quick about it, so I’ll need to go now.”
They nodded in acquiescence before letting Ekon frog-march Koffi past them. As soon as they were up the stairs and on the next landing, he let go of Koffi’s arm and finally dared to meet her eyes. It was a strange recall. This was the hallway where they’d first met, albeit under very different circumstances. Her jaw was jutted out in defiance, but her eyes glistened as he cut through her ropes with his hanjari. When they fell to the ground, she nodded.
“Thanks.”
“Did they hurt you, before I came?”
“No.” In a way, Koffi’s refusal to cry was worse than if she’d just done so outright. “I’m fine.”
“Good.” Ekon unshouldered his bag and pulled a blue cloak from it. “I brought you this,” he said, wrapping it around her. Koffi pulled its billowing hood over her face, and her shoulders seemed to relax a bit.
“What do we do now?”
“Adiah’s here, somewhere in this temple,” he said. “My guess is that they’re keeping her in the stable, but I’m not certain of it. Do you have any way to find her?”
Koffi frowned for a moment, thoughtful. Then: “The first time I met her, in the jungle, I was able to do something with the splendor in her body. I felt a connection to it as a daraja. There’s a chance I could use the same connection to find her, but I don’t know if it’ll work.”
“You have to try,” said Ekon. “Do anything you have to do to find her.” He pressed the hilt of his hanjari into her hands. “Anything.”
“Ekon.” Anxiety riddled Koffi’s voice. “The splendor is affected by my emotions, I don’t know how reliable—”
“We don’t have many more options, Koffi,” said Ekon. He tried to keep the panic out of his voice. “I just lied to those warriors, and eventually they’ll figure that out. We need to find Adiah and leave Lkossa as quickly as possible.”
Koffi seemed to come to some sort of reckoning. She swallowed. “What are you going to do while I’m looking for Adiah?”
“I . . .” Ekon faltered. This was the part of his plan he was least confident in, and also the part he knew Koffi would like least. “I’m going to be looking for someone too.”
Koffi frowned. “Who?”
“My mentor,” said Ekon. “His name’s Brother Ugo.”
“Wait, brother? As in a brother of the temple?” The incredulity in Koffi’s whisper bordered on hysterical. “Ekon, are you out of your mind? We’ve just found out the Kuhani has been using the Sons of the Six to commit murders. For all we know, the whole temple is corrupted. Why would you be looking for someone within it now?”
“Because Brother Ugo is . . . different.” Even to Ekon, the words sounded silly aloud, but he kept on. “He’s been my mentor all my life, Koffi, and he’s nothing like Father Olufemi. To be honest, I’m worried about him. No one’s seen him since we got back from the jungle.”
Koffi rolled her eyes, and Ekon was almost glad to see a hint of the girl he knew. “So you think this is the time to go looking for him?”
Ekon massaged his temples. “I can’t explain it, but I have a bad feeling. I think something’s happened to him. Brother Ugo would never stand for what Father Olufemi and the Sons of the Six are doing. If he found out the truth, and the Kuhani wanted to silence him—”
“Ekon.” There was a touch of real sympathy in Koffi’s voice. “If that’s true, there’s a good chance . . .” Her voice held a touch of apology. “There’s a good chance they’ve already—”
“Please, Koffi.” Ekon’s words were a whisper. “Please. He might be dead, but he might also be alive, and if he’s alive, he could help us.”
Koffi’s lips pressed into a hard-set line. “If you can’t find him—”
“Twenty minutes,” said Ekon. “I promise if I can’t find him by then, then we leave. I’ll meet you behind the stable. No one should be back there this late.”
She paused for a moment, thoughtful. “Make it thirty.”
“Why?”
She raised an eyebrow. “I thought you’d prefer a dividend of three.” She gripped the hanjari tighter. “Thirty minutes, and you’d better not be late,” she said. “Or I swear, you will never get this dagger back.”
“Deal.”
Koffi threw him one more skeptical look before darting down the hall like a shadow.
And then she was gone.
* * *
Ekon wove through the temple’s hallways in silence.
In the distance, he could still faintly hear the cheers and whoops of the feasts’ revelers, getting louder and more uproarious as it got later and the wine poured more freely. It was a strange contrast, almost unnerving. Down in that worship hall, Fahim and Shomari would still be celebrating. In another set of circumstances, maybe he would be too. Maybe, in another version of his life, he’d become a Son of the Six, follow in his baba’s footsteps like he’d always envisioned. That plan was gone now, pages that belonged to a story he’d never write. He wasn’t necessarily sorry for what he was about to do, but . . . the old want still tugged at him. If he was honest, there was even a small grief. He wouldn’t be sad to leave the Temple of Lkossa behind, but he would be sad to leave behind what he’d once thought it was. Mama had left him by choice, Baba had left him by force, but this had always been home. This was the life he and Kamau knew best, and after tonight, he would never know it again.
He kept his ears pricked and his eyes sharp as he moved through its halls. Somewhere in this building Koffi was—hopefully—on her way to finding Adiah and getting out. Every time he thought about that, his stomach swooped.
Think, Ekon, a voice in his mind instructed. Think. Where could Brother Ugo be?
He checked all the usual places—the private prayer rooms, the memorial hall, even the kitchens—and found no one. Growing more desperate, he ventured into the western wing of the temple, where Brothers of the Order slept. Some of the rooms were occupied by sleeping old men—he peeked carefully into each one—but most were empty, rooms that belonged to members of the order still enjoying the festivities. Finally, he found the door he was looking for and knocked gently, keeping his voice at a whisper.
“Brother? Brother Ugo?”
No answer. Ekon nudged the door open and peered inside the roo
m.
He would have felt better if the room had been destroyed, ransacked, indicative of any sort of struggle. What he saw instead disturbed him more. Brother Ugo’s room was pristine. The small bed in the center of the little room was neatly made, its creases and folds perfectly aligned, as though no one had slept in it for some time. A stack of books was arranged near the simple cut-out window, and the few robes Brother Ugo owned were folded on his trunk. Nothing about the room was instantly wrong, but it held a distinct emptiness. In the back of his mind, Ekon thought of an old story, the tale of another old scholar of this temple who’d gone missing without a trace.
Satao Nkrumah.
Ekon went cold. What if someone had taken Brother Ugo against his will. What if they had him held prisoner somewhere now and were hurting him? His mentor was clever, but old, so it wouldn’t take much at all to hurt him. He raked his fingers through his hair, trying to temper a growing panic.
Where? He asked the question over and over in his mind. Where are you?
He left the western wing and raced down a different hall. There was one more place he hadn’t checked—the temple’s library. Access there was usually restricted to Brothers of the Order and those given special permission by the Kuhani. It was a large enough place to hide someone, a place easy enough to block access to.
Please, please be there . . .
“Warrior Okojo.”
Ekon stopped in his tracks and swiveled, an ice-cold dread running down his back. A figure emerged from the shadows of a doorway he had flown past without looking. The hair on his arms stood on end as moonlight filtered through one of the temple’s massive bay windows and cast silvery light on one side of the Kuhani’s face. Ekon swallowed hard.
“Father.” Habit compelled him to bow and salute. The old holy man offered the faintest touch of a smile.
“I admit . . .” His voice was soft, but his eyes held a razor-sharp glint. “I am surprised to see you here.”
Ekon drew himself up. “Surprised, sir?”