‘My father told me that Command trained her for Ogun. That was why he sent her to retrieve the girl in exchange for her life. Was he wrong?’
‘I suppose this is how L’?r? repaid her.’
‘Where is this L’?r? now?’ Tofa asked.
Milúà pointed towards the border wall, ‘She’ll have crossed over to the fifth ring by now.’
‘And why didn’t you follow her in there?’ Tofa said.
Milúà glanced down at Command’s frozen body, and then back at Tofa. ‘She trapped me with her dark magic and by the time I summoned the strength to break out, she was gone.’
Tofa watched as her face morphed from sadness to something else, more like the maiden he’d actually heard about. She spun and packed her hair into a tight bun. She whistled and the ground began to shake, and out from behind the rocks, a battle rhino came crashing in.
‘I know how to find her,’ Milúà said as the rhino came to a halt in front of them. She pulled out a set of fresh clothes from the bags attached to it. Without looking back at him, she pulled off her armour and undressed completely. Tofa turned around, clearing his throat. Milúà didn’t say a word. He glanced back and saw her wearing a fresh set of robes and putting her charred armour back over it. She wiped her hands clean of blood and climbed onto the rhino.
‘Follow me,’ she said.
‘Wait, stop,’ Tofa said. ‘We can’t just leave her here.’
‘I don’t care what happens to her,’ Milúà said.
Tofa sighed, ‘Obviously you do.’
Milúà glared at him, and just as he was about to speak, she said, ‘Command knew a secret that I wanted – that I needed to know.’
‘What secret?’
‘She knew who my father was,’ Milúà said, glaring at the body on the ground, ‘and she knew who killed my mother. Or at least I think she did.’
Milúà’s words triggered Tofa’s memory, and he rememberedoverhearing Ìyá-Ayé and Àlùfáà-Àgbà whispering in the palace. Milúà was the daughter of Àdùnní the temple maiden. The one Ìyá-Ayé had promised to kill the moment she discovered who her father was. Tofa might not know who her father was but he remembered clearly as Ìyá-Ayé confessed to killing her mother and the deal the mother of maidens had made with Àlùfáà-Àgbà. Tofa was certain that if Milúà discovered the answers to those questions, either or both would get her killed. Tofa couldn’t explain why he felt protective of this maiden he’d only just met but he immediately decided that he would never tell her what he knew about her parents.
‘Tell me everything Command said. Tell me her à?írí,’ Tofa ordered.
Milúà nodded and stretched her hand to him. He raised his hand to hers, and she pulled him up onto the rhino. He held on to her waist as she kicked the rhino’s side, and they began the hunt for L’?r? of Òtútù as she spoke the commander’s last words to him.
Long before the day of the First Sun, there was a prophecy.
The Elder Priests had said that one day, an evil would invade the continent and only those favoured by the gods would survive.
For centuries, this prophecy haunted the continent, unsure of when their end would come.
The people fought and scavenged, waiting for the darkness to come.
So when the Aláàfin and his priest discovered agbára oru it was an answer to a prayer that had gone unanswered for many generations.
How could they have said no?
36
Ìlú-Oní?nà, Fifth Ring, Kingdom of Oru
L’?R?
L’?r?’s day had started in Ìyá-Idán’s house, on the bed her mother had slept in, and in less than a day, she’d lost her refuge, been captured, taken a life and now at just a few light beads past midnight she was sleep-deprived and exhausted, dragging herself towards the sixth ring. L’?r?’s pulse raced as her heart hammered in her chest, driving her mad with fear. Her agbára prickled beneath her skin, threatening to burst as she grew even more anxious. Never again. Never again would she use her agbára. Whatever she thought she knew about it was a lie. It was nothing more than a curse, her mother’s cruel gift to her. She felt a deep, aching shame in her heart, the sound of its throbbing reverberating in her chest. If the gods had ever favoured her, she’d have begged them to take the curse from her, but the gods had no ears, not for her.
The further they went into Ìlú-Oní?nà, the darker and thicker the air got. Every attempt to breathe was a struggle; L’?r?’s lungs burned as she worked to fill them. Hoods up, scarves tied over their faces, and heads down. Those were Márùn’s instructions as they followed her lead through the town. L’?r? was grateful for the cloaks, which helped hideher tears from Alawani, who held on firmly to her hand. She’d killed Command. It was an accident. She knew that. And she wanted to tell him as much, but every time she pulled him back to speak to him, the words wouldn’t come.I killed Command.The unspoken words tasted bitter in her mouth. Worse still, how could she tell him about Command’s à?írí? How would she say she found out that his father was murdered? She’d have to explain everything that happened with their commander, and he’d never trust her again, at least not while agbára òtútù plagued her soul. For the first time in her life, L’?r? was comforted by the night’s darkness that cloaked them. The dusty haze they trod through would make it harder for anyone to find them. So even if Milúà was on their tail, she’d have difficulty finding them. And L’?r? never wanted to see that maiden ever again.
As the moon’s light struggled to break through, they ran into a small town with fewer giant clusters of buildings and more familiar bungalows forming rows of streets in all directions. They ran towards the buzzing noise in the distance and entered what seemed to be a sort of marketplace. Loud voices laughed and haggled over everything from roasted plantains to peppered goat meat to pottery and grains. The market had traders and blacksmiths alike. It felt like the midday market in the capital but all of this was in the dark of night. The people seemed more alive, although they all wore the same washed-out clothes and threadbare materials as the ones they’d seen closer to the border.
