‘So they must,’ Ìyá-Idán proclaimed, her body radiating confidence.
‘I don’t want your pledge of allegiance. I just want to save my father and my friend,’ L’?r? said.
‘The path before you no longer allows you to save one man. Your kingdom is dying,’ Mj? said intently.
‘I don’t want your crown. I’m not your queen!’ L’?r? shouted back.
Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door. ‘Open this door! Who is in there?’
L’?r? felt a chill run down her spine, and her body went rigid. How did they find them? Ìyá-Idán said no one could find them in this house. Did Mj? lead them here? Had Milúà found them? She wasn’t ready. She had more to learn about her agbára. More to learn about controlling it. The safety bubble she’d created in her mind when she’d stepped into this safe haven burst open, and panic flooded in. Her eyes met Ìyá-Idán’s and then Alawani’s. They stood frozen in place, waiting to hear if the knock returned. It did.
Mj? pulled out the embers from his cigar and turned them into a ball of fire in his hand. Ìyá-Idán waved a hand, and all the flowers that decorated her house turned to long, sharp thorns pointing towards the doors. Even the house seemed to get darker.
‘No one should be able to find this house,’ Ìyá-Idán said, looking at Mj?. Her face was flooded with fear, her eyes wide and wild.
‘I don’t know how they found it,’ Mj? replied.
The next knock was even louder, and the hinges on the doors shook, threatening to come apart.
The girls ran out, their voices bouncing off the walls as they anxiously waited for their leader to tell them what to do. Ìyá-Idán looked overwhelmed and panicked – emotions L’?r? never thought she’d see the woman wear.
Suddenly, Ìyá-Idán fell to her knees before L’?r?. ‘On this day before the sun in the sky and the sands beneath our feet, I swear loyalty to you, Queen Tèmil’?r? of Oru.’
L’?r? felt like she was drowning in the chaos of it all. Now? Was she doing this now? Before L’?r? could shout, telling them that this wasn’t the time, the girls fell to their knees one by one, repeating Ìyá-Idán’s words. Even Márùn, who’d just opened her eyes, the old magic working incredibly quickly through her body, was still weak yet fell to her knees.
L’?r?’s panic flared her agbára, and she fought to keep it in. Too afraid to hurt these people bowing to her. Bowing to her while the enemy was breaking down the doors. This was madness.
‘Open this door in the name of the gods!’ the voice called.
L’?r? looked at Mj?. ‘Please stop this. Tell them to stop,’ she pleaded. ‘We need to run or hide or fight. We need to do something! They’ll soon break down that door.’
L’?r? shut her eyes, feeling hopeless and terrified with each word that made her feel responsible for these girls’ lives. This wasn’t what she had imagined being royalty would feel like. The emotional burden of it was like a crushing force around her. She didn’t need this. She didn’t want it and most definitely wouldn’t accept it.
She followed Alawani’s eyes to where Ìyá-Idán still knelt. He raised his gaze to her, their eyes locked and for a moment she thought he felt the same way she did as the dread that crawled up inside her seemed reflected back to her on Alawani’s face. His mouth hung open as the realization of what was happening dawned on him. His eyes pooled instantly, and he kept shaking his head as though disagreeing with them. But just as she moved to hold him, Alawani fell to his knees before her too, and her blood ran cold as he said, ‘On this day before the sun in the sky and the sands beneath our feet, I swear loyalty to you, Queen Tèmil’?r? of Oru.’
‘Alawani, I am not your queen. What are you doing?’ shesaid when the doors broke open, and a squad of four royal guards rushed into the house.
Ìyá-Idán rose quickly, and at her command, the vines in the house raced like snakes, tangled into each other, and formed a barrier between them. Ìyá-Idán shouted to Márùn, ‘Go with them. Protect your queen. Get her to the sixth ring. Go now!’
The girls and Mj? gathered around Ìyá-Idán, mists mirroring the colour of the elements they channelled hovering over their hands. Their incantations rang in the air, and they readied for battle, calling their old gods to come to their aid. The guards on the other side shot energy blasts at the magic-woven barrier, and it was weakening. Ìyá-Idán lifted her hands to hold it, but L’?r? knew it wouldn’t last long.
L’?r? looked around. She wasn’t worth dying for. She wanted to stay and fight.
Ìyá-Idán’s voice broke through her thoughts. It was as if the woman could hear the questions that raced through her mind. ‘Don’t worry, child, go. They couldn’t hurt me even if they tried.’ She smiled.
L’?r? felt a sting in her heart. The next thing she knew, her legs took off the ground, Alawani grabbed her with both hands and hurled her over his shoulder. She saw Márùn leading the way, running ahead of them as they disappeared into the hallway, and Ìyá-Idán controlling a bunch of vines, sealing the passageway behind them. Just before they were out of sight, she saw the barrier separating Ìyá-Idán and her girls from the guards fall and heard the thunderous roar of chaos and screams of terror.
The exit was blocked with a heavy metal door that had no lock or key. Just a block of steel. Márùn ignited her agbára and placed her glowing hands on the door. She punched, ripped and pulled, melting the steel and creating a hole bigenough for them to go through. The light and heat emanating from Márùn and the melting door nearly blinded and choked L’?r?. Whatever Ìyá-Idán had given Márùn had replenished her strength faster than L’?r? thought possible.
The exit led into a tunnel within a hill a few yards from the house. Inside, Márùn’s light guided them through the passage, which felt longer with each step they took. After what felt like a whole light bead later, the trio stepped out into the sun. There Milúà was, standing a few yards away. No guards or soldiers, just the maiden and her battle rhino almost twice her height, its golden armour gleaming in the sunlight. Ìlú-Idán – the fourth ring – didn’t have nearly as many trees as Ìlú-p? where it rained often. It was more like the rest of the desert kingdom with stones and rocks as high as hills across the terrain. L’?r? took one step back and the maiden turned and locked eyes on her. Márùn had a shield up quicker than L’?r? could blink. Before them, emerging from Márùn’s hand was a shimmering light glowing like glass in fire. Even from this distance, Milúà wasted no time attacking the trio with blasts of energy as she raced for them, her face the portrait of scorn.
L’?r? and Alawani hid behind Márùn and her agbára shield. ‘When she gets closer, we attack at once,’ Márùn shouted to them.
Behind her, L’?r? heard the blast of energy soaring towards her before she saw it. It was as though the sun had left the sky and was pummelling towards them. There was nowhere to run. The impact crashed through Márùn’s shield and flung all three of them against the rocks behind them and knocked them to the ground.
L’?r?’s ears rang, and pain flashed through her head. She blinked furiously to clear the light from her eyes but couldn’t see properly. Her mind was hazy and disoriented, unableto focus on anything. Her skin stung where the blast had exploded. She grunted as she forced her body off the ground. Her legs trembled beneath her, and she clenched her jaw and winced as she pulled out a sharp stone that had lodged itself in her arm.
‘Alawani,’ L’?r? called out through the dusty haze in the aftermath of the attack.
