Page 113 of Firstborn of the Sun
‘I don’t know. Someone from the capital, a senior guard maybe. I couldn’t recognize them.’ The lie came more easily than L’?r? had expected. She caught the frown that flashed across Alawani’s face and looked away. She hoped he wouldn’t pry further.
‘I’m just glad you’re okay,’ Alawani said after a brief moment.
‘How will we get through?’ L’?r? asked, looking up at the massive border wall.
Márùn placed her hand through the stone all the way to her arm. ‘This wall is protected by the magic of Ìlú-Idán. Hold on to me and don’t let go. We’ll walk through the stone.’
L’?r? could hear her own gasp of disbelief as she looked around her. She’d expected a smuggler’s tunnel like there was at the third ring border wall, but this was something wildly different. The stone wall had no holes or doors, and she expected her to walk into it?
‘It’s fine,’ Alawani said to L’?r?, ‘I’ve gone through before.’
She gave him a weak smile. Blood still thundered in her ears. Her hands still felt cold and clammy from holding on to Command. Flashes of her commander’s body kept flooding her mind. She wanted to tell him. But how would she explain? She killed Command.She killed Command.Her mind was breaking, her heart fracturing and splintering off in different directions. In her mind’s eye, the roof over her head on the platform was gone, and the pillars swayed as the unforgiving storm rained sand over her, blistering her skin. ‘I have to tell you something,’ she blurted out.
‘No time,’ Márùn said, ‘just walk through. Keep walking in a straight line until you see the sun.’
‘And what happens if we don’t see the sun?’ Alawani asked.
‘Then you get lost in there forever. There’s a reason why this wall in particular uses magic. We’re leaving the crown’s protected lands and going into the outer rings. The Holy Order fully expects anyone entering or leaving without permission to get lost in there. So hold on and don’t let go.’
‘I’ve got you,’ Alawani said, seeing L’?r?’s distraught expression.
L’?r? stared at the wall, wondering if the stone would swallow her and keep her. Would it know what she’d done? Would the old gods punish her for murder? Was it murder if it was an accident? ‘I’m scared,’ L’?r? whimpered, tracing the empty space on her chest as she instinctively reached for the necklace that she’d long lost.
‘Here,’ he said, offering her his hand. ‘Hold on and follow me. I won’t lead you to your death. I’m oath-bound to you now. You won’t get hurt on my watch.’
At that, L’?r? felt her heart swell with conviction, and her doubts quelled. She trusted him, more than she trusted herself at that moment. So she took his hand and let him lead her through.
‘Whatever you do, don’t use agbára in here, or none of us is getting out,’ Márùn said as they took their first step through the stone.
Inch by inch, the wall swallowed them up.
L’?r? closed her eyes in the darkness of the stones, the only light source being the little red spots that greeted her when she did so. The darkness was so thick she could feel the space they walked through push and close in on her. Her grip on Alawani’s hand tightened. She felt her panic grow as the air left her lungs, and she found it harder to take a deep breath. The spots she’d focused on faded, and there was nothing but the empty yet suffocating blackness around her. When she tried speaking, to call Alawani’sname, her voice wouldn’t come, and that was when she lost it. The darkness overwhelmed her with a feeling of terror. Her body stiffened in response, and she made it through only because Alawani kept a tight grip on her hand and pulled her along.
The sun, although hidden behind thick layers of dust, smoke and ash, was still too bright for her as they walked out of the stones. She kept her eyes closed, only opening them slowly and for short periods of time until they adjusted.
Ìlú-Oní?nà – the fifth ring, was like a ghost town. Huge black buildings, many stories high, stood in clusters of four, surrounded by barbed wire fences all over the land, backdropped by a dismal grey haze. L’?r? knew about the volcanic eruptions near the kingdom’s outer states but wasn’t expecting anything like this. Galvanized steel rooftops, chiselled stone walls and more rhinos than she’d ever seen in a single location, although these ones were used for load-carrying not battle. Ìlú-Oní?nà’s gloomy atmosphere was nothing like she’d read about in Baba-Ìtàn’s books. Those books praised the state as the home of all artisan works, from blacksmiths to clay workers, builders and stonemasons. It was the home of creativity, but this just looked like an abandoned town. There was hardly anyone around, and those they saw avoided their gazes and trudged along as though they’d faint with the next step.
‘What happened here?’ L’?r? asked Márùn.
‘We’ve crossed from the land of the sun and sands to that of ash and smoke,’ Márùn said, pointing to the grey skies and the ash flurries that danced in the air.
‘What’s causing this? I’ve never seen anything like it,’ L’?r? said.
‘Ìlú-Idán’s magic keeps everything within its ring safe from the ash plague,’ Alawani said.
‘What is the ash plague?’ L’?r? asked.
Márùn shrugged, ‘You’ll hear many things in these parts. Some moonlight storytellers say it’s punishment for abandoning the old gods; others say it’s the price we pay for our agbára. Whatever the reason, the volcanoes across the continent have spewed ash consistently for almost as many first suns as our kingdom has been alive.’
‘How come it’s so bad here and not a flake of ash in the inner rings?’ L’?r? asked, looking from one to the other.
‘Because his father promised to extend the magic border to cover the entire kingdom – another oath he never kept. Instead, the outer rings continue to pay the price for something their forefathers did in the days of the First Sun. A crime they are forbidden to speak of to outsiders,’ Márùn said, her voice venomous. ‘It’s up to the next ruler of Oru to right that wrong and extend the magical barrier to shield all six rings from the ash plague.’
Márùn glanced at L’?r?, who quickly averted her eyes. The state was an image of despair, the sound of silence punctuated by the occasional gust of wind and ashen dust. How could any ruler let their people live like this? L’?r? didn’t blame Alawani for his father’s crimes, but this was abysmal. It was a surprise anyone survived in this state at all – if the charcoaled earth didn’t kill them, the air would.
‘You could change everything, Queen of Oru,’ Márùn said to L’?r?, her eyes wide with hope.
L’?r? stepped back as if to run from those words that had now become the backdrop of her existence. She could hardly keep the tiny family she had alive. How was she supposed to accept the responsibility of the thousands of people who lived in Oru? How could she ever make right the terrible things the past rulers had done? No. The crown was not hers to hold or claim.
