Читать книгу Kingdom of Souls - Rena Barron - Страница 17

Arti sits across from me at the low table in our salon, staring at a wall as she stirs her fish soup. She hasn’t said one word. Though she’s never one for small talk, she’s especially quiet tonight. Worry lines crease her face; she looks tired and worn, and it makes me worry too. For the first time I can recall, there are dark circles under her eyes, as if she’s not slept in days. It’s moments like these that I remind myself that although my mother can be cold, she isn’t unfeeling.

Her face shows signs that she’s been hard at work performing rituals. Trying to uncover the child snatcher. I shouldn’t have doubted my mother. Of course she would help.

We sat down to our evening meal only moments ago, but I can’t stop squeezing my hands between my knees. I tell myself that Kofi has a guard now. He’ll be okay. I’ve never been more thankful for Rudjek’s familial ties to the Vizier than today. He put the word out, and within half a bell, there was a guard at Kofi’s side. A gendar, one of the elite soldiers from the Almighty Army. Still, I can’t wait until morning so I can go check on him myself. I promised I would look out for him.

Oshhe clears his throat at the head of the table, interrupting my thoughts. ‘I take it things aren’t going well at the Temple.’

Arti blinks as if clearing the cobwebs from her mind, a weak smile crossing her lips. She reaches for his hand and he reaches for hers. A look of longing, of sadness, of something lost, passes between my parents. ‘I wish things could be different,’ she says, her voice quiet.

My father smiles, resignation in his words, a sense of defeat. ‘As do I.’

Ty bustles into the salon with Terra on her heels and my parents move apart. Our matron snatches up Oshhe’s bowl, and still-hot soup spills on her hands and apron. She doesn’t notice as she roughly puts the bowl on the empty tray in Terra’s arms and moves to take Arti’s. My father and I exchange a glance, and dread crawls through my belly. Ty’s eyes are blank. She might as well be leagues away when she’s like this. She’s retreated someplace deep in her mind, where the horror that haunts her has taken hold.

‘Ty, will you eat with us tonight?’ Oshhe offers, his deep voice gentle. ‘Terra can take care of the dishes.’

Families of status frown upon an attendant joining the household for meals. I didn’t know that for the longest time, since it’s commonplace for Nezi and Ty to eat with us. It came up in a conversation with Rudjek after my twelfth birth day. He was so excited upon hearing this that he asked his mother if his attendants could eat with them. He got a firm talking-to from his mother, and later a tongue-lashing from his father.

Ty doesn’t accept or decline my father’s invitation. She brushes away breadcrumbs from the table, her hands trembling. Terra puts the tray down and slips out to get Nezi. That used to be my job before she came. Whenever Ty had an episode, I’d run for Nezi, the only one who can calm her. The episodes always pass in time, but it’s hard to see her like this.

‘The soup was exceptional tonight,’ I comment, trying to bring her back. ‘It’s your best yet.’

She grunts, but her lips don’t move, and silence eats her words. I wonder if the news about the children disappearing has upset her. By the time she’s done clearing the table, her skin is grey. She stops cold and Arti goes rigid across from me too. Ty backs into a corner, shaking her head, her eyes as wide as two battered copper coins.

‘You’ve only to ask, Ty,’ Arti says, her voice wound tight. ‘And I can make it go away.’

I bite my lip and clench my fists between my knees. Like Grandmother, one of Arti’s gifts is to manipulate the mind, but there’s a limit to her powers. She can’t make memories go away forever, only bury them for a time. Ty doesn’t answer Arti either.

When Nezi hobbles into the salon with Terra on her heels, I ease out a breath. Her gaze rakes over us, a grimace painting her face. Ty is the oldest of our household and Nezi is next. Her black locs are streaked through with silver and stick up every which way. I stare at her scarred hands, gnarled and crooked like tree roots. She used to tell me that she burned them while plucking magic from the sky.

‘I’m here.’ Nezi’s husky voice echoes in the room. She doesn’t approach Ty; that’ll only make it worse. I learned that the hard way at a very young age. Nezi scratches at her old scars. She always does when she’s upset or agitated. ‘Do you want Arti to help you?’

Ty’s head snaps around, her eyes landing on her friend. There’s understanding between the two. Some secret language that the other women of my household speak, but I’m not privy to. Ty blinks her answer, her nails clawing into the stone wall, her breath coming out sharp and short. Soon the feather touch of my mother’s magic tingles against my skin. It sweeps through the room, and Ty squeezes her eyes shut and lets out a long groan before growing calm again.

While Ty’s recovering, my father tells Terra to take away the dishes. By the time she returns, Ty has already slipped from her corner, her strict matron mask back in place. She and Terra serve our next dish: pepper-crusted broiled fish and mint rice. Ty dips her head to Arti, who returns the gesture. There’s a shadow of peace on our matron’s face as she retreats back to the kitchen with Nezi and Terra. I can’t help but feel relieved too.

Arti looks so very tired. Magic takes from all – even the powerful. She sighs, her skin sallow, her eyes even more red-rimmed. But she’ll recover: unlike charlatans who borrow magic, it doesn’t take my mother’s years. It gladly answers her call. Oshhe looks tired too. He always does after a long day. We’re only halfway through our meal, and I’m still shaking from the episode with Ty, when Oshhe announces, ‘I must leave in the morning to hunt for a white ox.’

I don’t need to ask why. I’ve helped in his shop enough to know what he wants with the white ox. ‘I don’t need a protection charm.’ I poke at the threadfish on my plate. ‘I need my own magic.’

Arti’s jaw tightens, but she holds her tongue.

My father swallows hard, his throat bobbing as he does. ‘I don’t know if this is a demon, for we only know them in stories. I’ve tried to perform the ritual to see across time and space, but the magic will not obey me. I’m not talented in that particular gift.’

I graduate from poking at the threadfish to jabbing my knife between its ribs.

If only I’d inherited some of that gift from Arti and Grandmother, I could help. I could do something to stop the child snatcher and protect Kofi instead of doing nothing. ‘I will make you the strongest protection charm known in the five tribes.’ Oshhe dismisses my protest outright. ‘I shouldn’t be gone more than a few days; I must go to the Aloo Valley to seek out the beast.’

‘The Aloo Valley?’ I blurt out. ‘That’s near the Dark Forest. That’s craven territory.’

No one’s seen a craven since they attacked the Almighty Army in the Aloo Valley generations ago. It’s not a place that many in the Kingdom travel, for no one wants to tempt fate. The Aloo Valley is where the Omari family legacy began.

As the childhood fable goes, Rudjek’s distant ancestor, Oshin Omari, was the last to fight the cravens. Oshin led a crusade to push them back into the Dark Forest when they threatened the Kingdom’s borders. He set up his army in the Aloo Valley between the southernmost point of the Kingdom and the Dark Forest. The cravens, clever and illusive, killed half his men in one night.

Tired of losing, Oshin stalked into the forest alone, ordering his men not to follow. He hiked into the marshes, not seeing a craven until he came upon a clearing. There, they all surrounded him. He pulled his shotels, ready to die with honour, but they did not attack. His bravery impressed their leader, and she offered to fight him to the death in an even match. Swords against claws and teeth and tree-bark skin. The craven was fast and cunning, but Re’Mec honours the brave. Oshin won and the cravens conceded to his prowess in battle. As his reward, they promised not to invade the Kingdom, for they had gained respect for its people. He took the fallen craven back with him, and later discovered the anti-magic in their bones.

‘Near the Dark Forest,’ Oshhe repeats, ‘not in the Dark Forest, daughter. The Aloo Valley has been peaceful for generations. It’s where I have the greatest chance to find the ox. It isn’t only the child snatcher that we must worry about; it’s also people who let fear control their actions.’

My pleading eyes find my mother’s. If there’s one thing my parents have in common, it’s that they’re both stubborn. I don’t want my father to go, but I know there’s no point in begging him not to. With so much uncertainty, we should stick together. No one is safe. ‘You and the seers will be able to find the demon, won’t you?’ I ask my mother, my voice a whisper.

Arti’s Ka-Priestess ring clinks against her plate. It’s changed to the colour of an emerald tonight. ‘Demon or not’ – she sighs – ‘I’ve done everything in my power. Now let Suran clean up his own mess. The protection of the Kingdom is his domain.’

‘If he can’t, then what?’ I spit out. ‘More children will go missing.’

My mother meets my gaze, her sad eyes bloodshot. ‘I fear it will be so.’