She pushed the heavy desk, cringing as it scratched against the floor. She paused, waiting to hear his voice or footsteps. Nothing. Beneath the rug was a wooden patch on the concrete floor. Using a small knife, she lifted the wooden slab and inside were dusty old scrolls; lots of them, from his time in the temple. L’?r? didn’t know why he still kept all this information about an Order that had ruined him, but at thatmoment, she couldn’t be more grateful for his tight grip on the life he lost. She quickly scanned the scrolls one by one. Some were texts she couldn’t read; some were maps. Careful not to tear the fragile papers, she hurried through each one until she found it: a map of the Sun Temple. She held it to her chest and let out a deep breath. She looked at it more closely. It showed the number of entrances in the temple. It wasn’t as detailed as she’d have liked, but it would have to do.
Footsteps. L’?r? heard the sound of her father’s slippers hitting the ground and froze. She jolted to her feet, hiding the map in her top, closed the wooden slab and returned everything to how it was. She quickly picked up one of the books on the shelves and hid the map in it, and held it firmly to her chest as Baba-Ìtàn walked into the room.
Worry still deepened the lines on his face, making him look older than mere moments ago, and she ached as she watched him move, wishing she didn’t have to do what she’d planned. She hoped nothing was out of place as his foot dragged along the floor. Her heart thumped hard in her chest. She had never lied to her father, much less stolen from him.
‘Come over here,’ Baba-Ìtàn said as he slumped onto his chair.
The silence in the room unnerved her, and she was moments from telling him what she had done when he said, ‘I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to be so angry. I just –’
Something caught his eye; a lone scroll lay on the floor at the edge of the desk. He picked it up and put it to the side. L’?r? could feel herself growing faint with worry. Any moment now, he’d hear her heart beating like a drum.
‘It’s okay, Bàbá. I know I upset you and –’
‘It’s no excuse,’ he said, rising from his chair to meet her. ‘I love you, L’?r?, and I want you to be safe, and if keepingyou in this house is what keeps you safe,’ he looked around at the dusty dark hall, ‘then I’ll take every scorn, every insult, every stone thrown.’
L’?r? didn’t notice the tears rolling down her face until his fingers went to wipe them.
‘I love you too, Bàbá. I promise I do,’ she said and hugged him tightly.
This time, he noticed the book between them and pulled her back. ‘What is this?’
‘A book,’ she choked and chuckled as she cleaned her face, hoping he wouldn’t ask much more, and she could leave before she crumbled before him.
‘I know it’s a book,’ he said, a hint of a smile on his face. ‘What are you reading today?’
‘Same as always,’ she smiled and stepped back from his desk.
As she turned, he said, ‘The children aren’t coming today. We could sit out when the moon is high in the sky, just the two of us.’ He smiled. ‘Go and rest. I think we still have k?; I’ll make some móín-móín and call you when it’s ready.’
She nodded and bit her lip, trying to hold back her tears.
‘Or would you prefer àkàrà, although it’s a bit late in the day for that. The bread is a bit stale so maybe –’
‘Móín-móín is fine, Baba,’ she replied. It broke her heart to keep secrets from him. But she would just do it this once, never again.
He wiped her tears and nodded firmly, turning to leave the room.
L’?r? quickly hid the book behind the desk, and softly called out, ‘Baba.’
Her father turned, and she knelt before him, leaning forward until her forehead touched his feet.
‘Ahan, my girl,’ Baba-Ìtàn said, lifting her to her feet. ‘Wipe your tears, no more crying.’
L’?r? nodded. ‘Thank you,’ she said, then sobbed again. ‘Thank you for –’ her voice croaked. She wasn’t sure what to say or where to start.
He embraced her and held on tight as he stroked her hair. ‘You are my daughter. Everything I am and everything I have is for you. You never need to thank me.’
Before she could speak again, he headed for the door. ‘I’ll get some food, and then we can talk some more.’
She wanted to call him back, but her words would not come. One more moment in his presence, and she’d lose her resolve.
The sun was but a sliver of orange across the horizon by the time she returned to her room to prepare for her mission. She detangled her messy afro and plaited it down in cornrows, leaving a big puff at the base of her head. She hid every blade Command had given her on her person, wondering what she’d say the next time she saw her. L’?r? hadn’t meant to break her rules or the bond they shared. It was Command who had taught her what to do when she saw her first blood, it was she who had taught her how to go through crowds unnoticed, it was she who had taught her everything she would need today to save her best friend. Would Command really never forgive this one thing? The thoughts started making her anxious, and her hands started to shake. Her fingers moved to her necklace, and she rubbed against it and shook her head. No, once this was over, she would beg her forgiveness. But for now, she had an axe to grind with the gods who had stolen her friend.
As soon as it was dark enough, L’?r? put on her cloak, placed the hood over her head, grabbed her bags and jumped out of her window. She knew her father would look for her when she didn’t show up at dinner, but she forced her mind toignore the guilt that ate at her as she raced towards the arena where Kyà waited for her.
The kingdom of Oru was made up of seven concentric rings. Settlements wrapped around each other, divided in half by a single road: the sun path that cut through from north to south. Each ring was a different state, with the royal island floating on the golden river in the middle of the kingdom. All the rings of Oru served as layers of protection for this one island that was home to royalty and priests alike. L’?r? lived in the second ring and the journey to Gbàgede, the arena in the city capital, was a treacherous one she made often. She’d gotten used to hiding in the shadows, keeping her face hidden and sneaking in through the city gates, snaking among the crowd always bustling in and out of the capital. But the road was long, and by the time she reached Kyà, two light beads later, she was already tired.
‘Where did you get these?’ L’?r? asked, running her fingers over the leather guard uniforms Kyà gave her.
