She and Kyà were standing inside the arena. It was the day of Ogun, the single-combat battle which determined the members of the royal guard, and the city was bustling with spectators. They hid in a quiet spot to change their clothes, avoiding the eyes of the wandering crowd and most of all, Command. ‘Did your brother give them to you?’
‘Please don’t ask,’ Kyà said.
L’?r? did want to ask, she wanted to say much more than she’d done last time they’d met, but now wasn’t the time. And she could tell from the look on his face he wasn’t interested in talking.
The uniforms were a fine match of brick-red and black. L’?r? put on the black trousers first, then matching long black boots. The uniform’s red top was a bit too small, so it cropped just above her layers of waist beads. She put on thewell-fitted black armour which felt more like an extra layer of clothing than metal, and on it was a carved image of the golden sun signifying the royal house the guards swore to protect. A well-placed arrow would go through in a single shot. However, Command had once told her that the priests enchanted the armours with magic from Ìlú-Idán, the home state of all old magic. The truth of that would be tested soon, she thought to herself as she slid her blades into the sheath at her side.
Kyà stared down at his uniform. ‘I always wanted to wear these. I just thought I’d earn them, not steal them,’ he added bitterly as he glanced towards the pit.
L’?r? opened her mouth to speak but he cut her off. ‘Did you find anything helpful in Baba-Ìtàn’s library?’
L’?r? nodded and pulled out the map from her boot. She unfolded it, her finger tracing over the paper to a spot that saidÀlùfáà. ‘See this tower here? They could be in there.’
Kyà glanced towards the arena’s entrance at the sound of voices. ‘It’s getting too crowded in here.’
‘Let’s find somewhere to wait until the fight starts,’ L’?r? said, nodding. ‘It’ll be the perfect distraction.’
He paused. ‘We’ll get him out … but what happens when we do?’
‘I don’t know,’ she replied. All she did know was that Alawani was in danger every day he spent within those walls.
‘What? You don’t have a plan?’
‘We’ll figure it out.’
Kyà stared at her in disbelief. ‘You think the Holy Order won’t burn down the whole of Oru looking for the Prince Àlùfáà?’
She shook her head. ‘We’ll figure it out,’ she said again, tucking the map back into her boots. ‘Let’s just go.’
How could she tell him that her plan was to run – as far asher legs would take her? She could barely even admit it to herself. Ìlú-Ìm had never been the kind of home she wanted, yet the thought of never again seeing the dusty brown walls of her father’s house made her heart ache, longing for something she didn’t understand or recognize.
L’?r? picked up her bags and walked through the crowds out of the arena, Kyà following closely. But she stopped abruptly when she saw a figure approaching her. The man stormed towards her, and though the scarf he wore hid his face from view, L’?r? knew those steps, that walk, that cane.
‘B … ba … Bàbá?’ L’?r? said, stuttering in shock. ‘Why are you here?’
Baba-Ìtàn was furious. He pulled her aside, into the quieter shadows at the side of the arena. His brows furrowed, and his lips quivered when he tried to speak. When he was reasonably upset, he shouted the skies down. When he was angry beyond reason, he found it hard to even speak, and all that L’?r? could see was how his eyes twitched as he struggled to find words terrible enough to show his rage.
‘Bàbá,’ L’?r? said again, her voice a soft whisper, too scared to speak any louder.
Baba-Ìtàn was quiet. His red eyes brimming with tears.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said.
He said nothing.
‘I need to do this. I need to save him, please,’ L’?r? begged, unsure what precisely she was begging for. There was a lot to beg for.
‘And who will save you?’ he finally said, his voice breaking.
‘We have a plan,’ she said hurriedly, bringing the map out of her boot. ‘We’ll be safe and careful, and –’
‘Where did you get that?’ Baba-Ìtàn’s voice now boomed in her ears. Her heart stopped. She’d forgotten she wasn’t supposed to show him the thing she’d stolen from him.
Baba-Ìtàn looked at the paper in her hands and back at her. His voice dropped low, ‘You stole from me.’
L’?r? couldn’t meet his eyes. She looked at the sand and rubbed her hand against the back of her neck.
‘Look at me,’ he demanded.
