‘It feels different,’ she said, smiling. ‘This doesn’t feel like fear or death. It feels – I don’t know how to describe it.’
‘It should feel like a part of you. Like the air in your lungs or the blood in your veins,’ Alawani said.
She smiled, amazed and excited, and tried not to panic as she examined her palms repeatedly. Slowly, the black marks on her forearms faded, and she let out a deep sigh of relief. Could someone be happy and terrified at the same time? Elated and scared? She was everything. She felt everything. As she mulled over what Baba-Ìtàn had told her about agbára òtútù, she clung to the tiniest hope that these powers wouldn’t be the death of her.
Alawani brought out his hands, and they shone with agbára oru. ‘Let’s try it again,’ he said, moving his palms closer to hers. They met in the middle, and this time L’?r? did not flinch. She felt nothing. No pain, no burn. Nothing. Not nothing exactly. A jolt of energy flowed through her, and she could feel her body come alive. It was as though her agbára protected her from his touch. A mist rose from where their fingers connected. Hers cold and his hot. They let their fingers linger, and the mist grew and filled the room.
L’?r? couldn’t hold back the smile that filled her face as Alawani grinned, entranced by her light.
‘You are incredible!’ he said, eyes wide in awe.
That perfect moment faded quickly as Alawani’s light dulled. L’?r? yanked her hands away, breaking their connection.
‘Am I hurting you?’ she asked, worried.
Alawani shook his head. ‘It’s the stripping ceremony, not you. My agbára will only keep fading. I shouldn’t have used it in the bar.’
L’?r? frowned and sighed. He seemed to not only know so much about the agbára of the gods but to love it. Love having it.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ Alawani said, one side of his lips curving into a half-smile. ‘I’ll be fine.’
But he wasn’t fine. Every time he used his agbára it was draining away even faster. And if his powers drained away entirely, there was a good chance he would die. L’?r? fought back the tears that stung her eyes, her joy completely disintegrating.
Before I continue, do you know the names of the old gods?
Do you know how they came to be on earth?
Do you know their story?
Well, it all begins with Olódùmarè, the all-knowing.
It is in search of this being that mankind discovered the Òrì?à.
For who are you to speak directly to the Supreme One?
The one who comes in three:
Olódùmarè, the Creator; ?lrun, ruler of the heavens; and ?lfi, the conduit between Orún (Heaven) and Ayé (Earth).
24
Ìlú-p?, Third Ring, Kingdom of Oru
MILÚÀ
Milúà had seen ten first suns when she earned her first cowrie. Taking a life was a privilege given only to the mother’s favourite daughters. She’d cried then and thought that the face of her mark would hunt her all the days of her life. It didn’t. By the time she’d seen fifteen first suns, her cowries were long enough to make the waist beads she wore beneath her dress. Now nearly nineteen first suns past, she wore two anklets made of cowries, and she remembered none of the victims’ faces. As she raced after the girl she now knew was called L’?r?, she expected to forget about her, just like she did the others.
She tightened her grip on her battle rhino as it thundered through Ìlú-Ìm, heading towards the north gates leading into Ìlú-p?. Her thighs were sore from the hard ride from the capital, but she was determined to catch Alawani and L’?r? before they got too far. Every moment away from the temple and Ìyá-Ayé was one more moment that she didn’t know who exactly killed her mother. Before this incident, all she’d wanted was to know more about her mother. Now she desperately needed to remain a temple maiden. A title she hadn’t been fond of in the past but was now the only thingkeeping her alive. Milúà didn’t enjoy killing although she was quite good at it. However, earning another cowrie for ending L’?r?’s life would be a reward for all the pain the girl’s actions had caused her.
‘Steady now,’ she said, patting the beast as it grunted again, no doubt exhausted from the chase. ‘We’re almost there.’
The rhino huffed in response, and she patted it a couple more times. ‘I don’t want to be here either,’ she said, trying not to slip off as the beast sped up.
Alawani’s disappearance wasn’t something Milúà had anticipated and she questioned herself on how she had missed the signs. He had been reluctant at first, but she’d gotten her hopes up after the stripping, thinking he actually might survive all the trials to come. And then he was gone. She ought to be in the temple figuring out who killed her birth mother. Instead, she was here, on a hunt for a foolish and ungrateful prince. She sighed. He thought the Red Stone was painful. Just wait until she got her hands on him. Memories of her nights in the weeping chamber flashed through her mind, and she grimaced. Ìyá-Ayé had healed every wound before Milúà left home, making sure she was equipped for this errand, but somehow the memories brought phantom pain that felt real enough to make her wince. She tightened her grip on the reins.Curse you, Alawani.
Milúà had waited for Ìyá-Ayé to return from the Regent’s court before leaving on her hunt, so even though Ìyá-Ayé had told the Lord Regent that Milúà was miles away from home, she had in fact been waiting patiently for her mother’s final word as instructed. Once their meeting was over, Milúà followed Àlùfáà-Àgbà into the temple to the dungeon where they kept the boy L’?r? and Alawani left behind. Why would anyone be so foolish as to bring a friend along on such a dangerous heist? Why would anyone be so foolish as to havefriends at all? She couldn’t imagine making herself so vulnerable as to put her life in another’s hands. Not even Bùnmi, whom she’d grown up with, was her friend.
Kyà was the friend’s name. Milúà wondered if he was still alive. She winced as she remembered hearing his screams. She didn’t know where they’d found him, but she knew the priests had tortured him for a full day, getting nothing from him before, as usual, calling her to do what they couldn’t.
