Page 88 of Firstborn of the Sun
L’?R?
The unchanging scene L’?r?’s subconscious stumbled into every night had become a sort of solace to her. Nothing could scare her here because she knew this place as well as she did her own bedroom. So when a figure started walking towards her, dressed in white, wearing a crown with a curtain of cowries, hiding its features from view, she knew she was dreaming. But she didn’t know how to wake up from it.
As the figure approached her, L’?r? tried to run away. But just like every time she’d tried before, the pillars that kept her safe also kept her trapped.
‘Who are you?’ she asked, hoping her brashness would hide her fear.
‘You stole from me,’ the person said as they circled her. The sound of their voice curled around her like a slither, low and menacing.
L’?r? still couldn’t see the face, but she recognized that voice. The last thing she’d heard that voice say as she tried to flee the temple was, ‘Kill them.’
Àlùfáà-Àgbà. Alawani’s grandfather. How was he in her dream? In her mind. She forced her eyes closed and whispered,‘Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.’ Whatever was happening to her at that moment had to be magic. Old magic.
She opened them to find the pitch-black eyes of the priest staring into hers. She screamed and fell back. ‘What do you want from me?’
‘Bring my grandson back to me,’ Àlùfáà-Àgbà said, his voice echoing in her mind. ‘Come back with him, and I will show you mercy.’
‘How are you here?’ L’?r? shouted, banging against the invisible shield that kept her inside the platform. ‘Get out!’
‘I’m not here to fight with you, child. Nor to tell stories. Return to the capital with my grandson, or their deaths will be slow and painful.’
‘Their?’ L’?r? asked, her heart buzzing in her chest like an angry hornets’ nest.
The old man’s face crept into a wicked smile. ‘Your father – oh, and the boy you left behind. Kyà.’
‘No,’ L’?r? gasped.
Àlùfáà-Àgbà waved a hand, and something like a window appeared before her, and through it, she could see her father. Bruised and hunched over in the corner of a dark cell. With another wave of the priest’s hand, she saw Kyà’s bloody body slumped on the floor of a much darker and smaller cell than her father’s. And unlike her father, he wasn’t moving.
That should’ve been her. That would’ve been her if she hadn’t run away like the coward she was. There her friend was, a shadow of himself, because of her.
L’?r? lunged at the Elder Priest. She summoned her agbára and threw her hands at him, willing her powers to burst forth and strike him in the heart. Nothing happened. Her body hit an invisible barrier, like it always did.
Àlùfáà-Àgbà laughed, ‘You’re just a child after all. Slow and foolish.’
She screamed at the priest, but no words formed in her mouth.Curse you.
‘If you return to the capital I will grant them a quick death,’ Àlùfáà-Àgbà said.
‘You’ll kill me if I come back. Just the way you killed my mother,’ L’?r? said, the words a hoarse whisper.
‘Yes, I will,’ Àlùfáà-Àgbà said so calmly that she could only stare back.
L’?r?’s mouth dropped open, and he moved closer to her, his face leaning against the invisible barrier. ‘You thought I’d lie or hide the fact that I killed Mremí? To lie, one must be afraid of the person they’re speaking to. Afraid of what they’ll do or think. Do you think I’m afraid of you, child of Òtútù?’
L’?r? just stared at the man before her, unnerved by his resemblance to Alawani.Wake up. Wake up. Her heart was beating so fast that she could feel the heavy throbbing all over her body. It was one thing to know the name of the man who murdered your mother. It was another to look into his eyes as he admitted it. Anger brewed inside her, rising to her skin, fingertips and lips. Her whole body trembled from the force of it. Fear. It wasn’t anger. It was fear. Her hands grazed her chest, looking for her pendant. It wasn’t there. It hadn’t been there for a while. Her head throbbed like it was being kicked into a wall, again and again, and again. She crashed to her knees, clawing at her chest, trying to breathe, slamming her fist to her chest, begging it for release, begging for air. She looked up into the eyes of her best friend’s grandfather, and the smile across his face told her all she needed to know. Death. It wasn’t anger or fear. It was death. She was dying. He was more powerful than whatever was trying to keep him from entering her space, and he wanted her dead.
But he didn’t kill her. Not yet.
Air rushed into her lungs, and it burned like she’d inhaled a room full of smoke. She coughed and spluttered, heaving as Àlùfáà-Àgbà circled her. ‘Until you return to the capital, I’ll be here. Every time you fall asleep. Every time you close your eyes for the briefest of moments. You’ll see my face, and you’ll feel my wrath. And I’ll show you what I’m doing to those you love. Return, and your death will be much quicker than your mother’s.’ He drew himself up and pressed his face to hers. ‘Iwillhave your powers,’ he hissed.
Your powers. Suddenly it clicked:thatwas what he wanted.
She sucked in a long breath.Wake up! Wake up!But she couldn’t drag herself out of this nightmare. She reached into her mind, clawing for something, anything. She searched for Command’s voice, hoping for a way out, something to help her save her father and Kyà. She even screamed for the god of fire and thunder. Nothing. Her mind was heavy with fog and her throat was still tight, her sight dimming. He’d kill them, just like he did her mother, and it would all have been for nothing. She had no choice. She could only hope to find a way out of any trap he had planned for her.
‘I’ll give you –’ she choked out the words, ‘I’ll give you what you want.’
L’?r? didn’t often think about her mother. She didn’t have the slightest clue what Mremí had looked or sounded like. L’?r? had only had one piece of information: her mother had been a maiden. But even that turned out to be false. Her mother hadn’t been a maiden. She hadn’t even been born of Oru. She’d come from somewhere far away with powers that scared the Holy Order and died for it. L’?r? wondered if Àlùfáà-Àgbà had offered her mother a similar deal, and what did the fact that her mother was now dead mean for how that bargain turned out? Regardless, L’?r?decided her agbára was not worth the loss of Baba-Ìtàn or Kyà. She’d come this far without it. She could go much farther.
