L’?r? was so angry, it had taken everything in her not to slap him across the face. Hot tears burned in her eyes as she rode through the winding trail. Even so, she glanced over her shoulder and saw him galloping towards them on the horse,and a wave of relief washed over her. Who was this maiden, and why – why did he care about her so much he’d risk his life to save her?
The thick forests gave way to sparse land, and by the time they reached a deserted part of the wall, the ground was hard and sandy, like the rest of the kingdom. Márùn steered L’?r? away from the King’s Road and towards the east side of the wall, about half a mile from the guarded gates. She used her agbára to freeze the locks on the door, and together they smashed it open, revealing a tunnel cutting through the stone wall.
Only then did they notice the group of guards in the distance behind Alawani racing towards them, leaving a cloud of dust in their wake. Márùn ran through the tunnel without looking back. L’?r? hated herself for waiting for Alawani. But still, she waited impatiently, bouncing on her feet until he reached her. He jumped off the horse and they ran into the tunnel, leaving their horses behind. Once in, L’?r? used her agbára to seal the entrance. Stretch and shoot. It wasn’t hard to summon her agbára when she could feel panic tight in her throat. Even in the heat of the tunnels, she shivered as her agbára rose to the surface, filling her fingertips with dark mists and hands with streams of dark veins. Ice crystals poured out of her and covered the entrance as she’d wanted to. But then it started to grow, consuming the tunnel nearly faster than she and Alawani could run. They made it out just moments before the crystals filled the tunnel and began crawling up the exit wall.
L’?r? was surprised to find Márùn still waiting for them at the other end. Although she noticed a look of fear that flickered across the woman’s face.
Alawani sighed, ‘What now?’
‘You don’t have a plan?’ Márùn asked.
‘We do,’ L’?r? said, bringing out the letter her father had given her from her boot. ‘My father sent us here to his friend.’
‘How will we find her?’ Alawani said. ‘We don’t know where to start.’
‘He said once we got into Ìlú-Idán, we only need to call her name to the wind, and she would find us.’
‘Fine, what’s her name?’ Alawani said.
L’?r? read the name on the letter, ‘Àdùk.’
A cloud of dust appeared in the distance.
Tó bá kù dí kí ?m? olóore jìn sí kòtò, mànàmáná á ?i? imole fún un
Just before a good person trips and ends up in a ditch in the dark, lightning would light up their path
27
Ìlú-Idán, Fourth Ring, Kingdom of Oru
L’?R?
Àdùk looked at the ice that covered the exit, which now seemed to have grown a few inches climbing up the wall. She turned to L’?r? and said, ‘?m? Mremí. Mremí’s child.’
Àdùk said those words as fact. Not a question. Nothing about her firm gaze made L’?r? think the woman was asking if she really was Mremí’s child. So she nodded in agreement – too stunned to speak.
L’?r? couldn’t take her eyes off the woman, who walked slowly and confidently before them. Step by step, she led them through the city of Ìlú-Idán, walking past soldiers and guards who didn’t seem to recognize any of them.
The woman spoke softly without turning back to them, ‘Keep close, and my shadow will hide you from their eyes.’
L’?r?, Alawani and Márùn picked up their pace. Àdùk – loved by many. That’s what the woman’s name meant. She considered Àdùk’s small figure and brisk steps as she paced through the town, each step hardly touching the ground. Over the woman’s hair was a finely wrapped satin head tie the colour of blood, and over her silk gown, across her waist, was a single row of cowrie beads. A woman who wanted the world to know how many people had died by her hand. Asthey moved through the busy streets with buildings almost as tall as those back at Ìlú-Ìm, L’?r? noticed the men they passed tilt their heads in the briefest of nods, and the women bend their knees ever so slightly, neither actually uttering a word as they breezed by. Who was this woman Baba-Ìtàn had sent them to?
They walked through the sandy streets of the home of old magic, passing by residents whose ancestors were the first to join the new kingdom of Oru all those first suns ago. Although L’?r? had never been to this ring before, it was just as Baba-Ìtàn’s stories had described: there was a visible drag in their steps, a solemness familiar to anyone scorned by the kingdom. The people whose execution she’d watched back in the capital city were all from this ring. The home of old magic. Descendants of the old Idán tribe, filled with the innate strength of old magic but forced to turn away from their old ways.
L’?r? wondered when the tides had turned. At what point in their history the magic that made these people special had turned into something outlawed by the Order? Many of them prisoners awaiting death. Those who believed in the gods of old, the myths and tales of their scions. Those who still knew the old dialect that was now restricted to be spoken only as incantations. Incantations only to be uttered by priests of the Holy Order. There were more soldiers in Ìlú-Idán than L’?r? had ever seen in any other state. They clustered in a large group, all on edge, ready to pounce, their hands on their blades. Some even kept the warm glow of their agbára permanently on for others to see. The air around the city was thick with tension. L’?r? stilled and gasped at a figure in the distance, a woman amid a group of soldiers a few yards from them. Àdùk stopped, glared at L’?r?, then turned and continued walking after L’?r? sheepishly whispered, ‘Sorry.’
L’?r? peered through the crowd to catch the face again, but it was gone. Had she seen Command? No. It couldn’t be. Not this far from home. Not coming after her.
L’?r? was just about to look away when she noticed the familiar glitter of gold, and there Milúà was, her white dress stained with blood, her gold armour scorched with flame, and her face an angry scowl. L’?r? froze and pulled Alawani to a stop next to her.
Àdùk turned on them. ‘What is it?’
‘We know that maiden. She’s trying to kill us,’ L’?r? replied frantically.
Àdùk held her hand in a firm grip. ‘As long as you are with me, they cannot see you. Even if the gods open the skies to look for you, they will find the face of another. Follow me and keep your head down.’
Àdùk stopped walking when she noticed L’?r? hadn’t moved from her spot. ‘Enough of this foolishness,’ she sighed as she waved her hand in a flowing motion, as if controlling something. L’?r? soon noticed as loose sand from the ground rose, swaying in the same direction as the woman’s hand, back and forth repeatedly. Àdùk pointed a finger and spun it. And what had first felt like a bit of wind was now a raging cyclone spinning through the town. People rushed indoors. Others hid their faces under their scarves. Even Milúà and the soldiers choked inside the storm. The heavy wind ended abruptly, but thick dust filled the air, making it hard to see.
