She decided she would return to the Sun Temple, just like Àlùfáà-Àgbà demanded. But first, she’d learn to control her agbára. She’d trade her powers for Baba-Ìtàn and Kyà if she had to. Maybe she was like Mremí after all.
But unlike her, she’d be prepared for the fight.
?gbn ?dún yìí wèrè èmíì
Today’s wisdom may be tomorrow’s madness
29
Ìlú-Idán, Fourth Ring, Kingdom of Oru
L’?R?
L’?r? found the room too small to breathe in. So she sat on the staircase while Alawani slept. She sat halfway down the stairs; overlooking the open foyer with morning light spilling through the windows was the next best thing to leaving the house, which she couldn’t do. Around her the sapphire flowers bloomed, casting shades of blue against her skin. L’?r? was lost in thought when Márùn walked in from her patrol. She seemed to be the answer to the question she’d been asking herself: how would she get back to the Sun Temple?
She called Márùn over and the woman sighed before settling down next to her on the stairs. ‘What’s happening out there?’ L’?r? asked softly, noticing how drenched in sweat the woman was.
Márùn exhaled deeply as if catching her breath. ‘There are several platoons of soldiers and royal guards patrolling the city. They’re searching every house, burning buildings and arresting anyone they think knows anything about you. They don’t know where we are, but they seem to know we’re close – and the people are suffering for it.’
L’?r? avoided Márùn’s gaze, guilt eating at her for being there at all.
‘It’s not your fault,’ Márùn said, noticing L’?r?’s expression. ‘This happens in Ìlú-Idán more often than you think. The Holy Order keeps a heavy hand pressed on their necks to make sure they never revolt against them. The people of the fourth ring are descendants of the old Idán tribe, the scions whose call the old gods will always listen to. Unlike agbára oru, the strength of old magic is determined by the power the Òrì?àyou call upon, not by the strength of the core in your physical body. So as they should, the priests fear what would happen if people with agbára oru learn to use old magic. They’ll be severely overpowered, and they know it. They’re not just here for you. You’re simply the excuse this time.’
Márùn leaned forward to tuck her blades into her boots and L’?r? noticed the mark at the base of her skull. ‘Your mark,’ L’?r? said. ‘It’s fading.’
‘Thank the gods,’ Márùn said. ‘When it’s gone, my debt will be repaid in full.’
‘How many first suns have you seen?’
Márùn raised an eyebrow at her and smirked.
‘I just mean, back at the farm inn, you said you owed a life debt to Alawani’s mother. You seem a bit young to have made such a commitment to serve out your days bound by old magic to someone else.’
Márùn shrugged. ‘I’ve seen twenty-five first suns but I inherited this debt from my father long before I knew what it meant to be bound to the will of another.’
‘But how … what did he do?’
‘I won’t stop you from telling me your secrets but don’t ask me to tell you mine.’
‘The ink is nearly faded. You’ll be free when it’s gone, right?’ L’?r? asked.
‘Say what it is you’ve come to me for, L’?r?. What do you want?’
L’?r? sat up as she filled Márùn in on the deal she had made with the Elder Priest. After a few moments of silence from Márùn, L’?r? added, ‘I want to go back.’
Márùn was quiet for a moment longer, playing with the rings on her fingers. ‘You think he’ll really do it?’
‘I don’t know but I have to try,’ L’?r? said.
‘And I imagine you’re not taking the prince with you, that’s why you’re telling me?’
‘If you come with me, you’ll be saving him too,’ L’?r? said, grasping at straws. ‘You might pay off your debt.’
‘When do we leave?’
L’?r? could hardly believe her ears. ‘Thank you. Thank you so much.’
‘When?’ Márùn asked again.
