Page 47 of Firstborn of the Sun
Now, this was strange. Priests hated reminders of their lost powers and always berated their maidens for using them in their presence, even though the entire point of having maidens was to be protected by the powers they gave up.
Milúà reached into her core and followed the thread that flowed through her veins and into her hands.
‘Close your eyes. Focus on the power flowing through you. Focus on the heat in your palms and tell me again what happened.’ Àlùfáà-Àgbà dragged that last word in a way that made her know. He didn’t believe her story.
Milúà took in a shaky deep breath. Her thoughts raced through her mind. She looked around the room instinctively,looking for what she could use to protect herself if he attacked her. Agbára oru or not, Àlùfáà-Àgbà was still the most powerful man in the kingdom, emboldened by the old magic he claimed from the old gods. Magic that was forbidden to all but his kind in the Holy Order. Running was no use. She wouldn’t get as far as the door. What stuck in her mind though was why she’d ever want to run. That wasn’t how she’d been trained. She’d fallen short and deserved whatever came her way.
Milúà focused on the choice before her and chose to play Àlùfáà-Àgbà’s game with him, knowing that at any moment, she could be fighting for her life. Slowly, she closed her eyes and said, ‘We walked through the corridor to the stairs. The hallway was dark.’ She remembered it as dark but as her agbára flowed within her, the light inside her lit up her memory of the space and she could see clearly. ‘When I thought I heard something, I went back to check. But it was empty.’
‘Okay, now focus. What did you hear?’
Milúà could feel his breath on her face. She remained quiet for a moment. In her mind, she saw a faint glow on the stairs she passed by. A faint yellow light in mid-air, floating and growing like a blossoming flower. Someone had been there. How could she see a person’s agbára without seeing the person? She wanted to move and touch it and feel for herself whatever she’d missed.
‘What did you hear?’ Àlùfáà-Àgbà’s voice boomed in her ear, forcing her back to reality.
Milúà flinched and stepped back from him. She didn’t know exactly what she’d heard or how she’d describe it.
‘I heard – I heard the sound of glass breaking.’ She opened her eyes. ‘What does it mean?’
Àlùfáà-Àgbà stood before her, looming like the monstrosity she’d had to destroy in the courtyard. And like it, she faced him with panic in her chest and fury in her eyes.
‘Are you sure?’ Àlùfáà-Àgbà asked, his gaze fixed on her.
‘Yes, Àlùfáà, that’s all I heard.’
The corner of his lips curved upward. ‘Then, I know exactly who our intruder is,’ he turned away from her, ‘and exactly who has been hiding her from me.’
Milúà remained quiet as Àlùfáà-Àgbà contemplated. His eyes glanced back and forth, and he mumbled words she couldn’t understand. The old man’s face hardly ever gave away anything, and this was probably the first time she’d ever seen him smile. It was as sinister as she’d imagined.
‘?m? Òtútù ti dé,’ he whispered into his clasped palms. ‘?m? Àj y?n l’áyà láti wá sí ilé mi.’
‘Àlùfáà?’ she said quietly to match his tone. What did he mean by ‘the child of cold had come’? Or that ‘the witch’s child had dared enter his house’? Did he know the girl? Did he know the magic she’d used? If he did, how come his old magic had done nothing to destroy it?
In a sudden mood change, Àlùfáà-Àgbà barked, ‘Get out.’
Milúà moved without thinking. ‘Yes, Àlùfáà-Àgbà. I will join my sisters for prayers,’ she breathed. Hoping not to agitate him any further.
‘No,’ he replied in a bitter voice, and Milúà halted. ‘Go home. Return to Ìyá-Ayé. I don’t want to see you in this temple again.’
Milúà fell to the floor so fast that pain jolted through her as her knees cracked against the marble. ‘Àlùfáà-Àgbà, please have mercy.’
‘Your mother will decide your fate,’ Àlùfáà-Àgbà said coldly.
Milúà begged, pouring out words that stumbled over each other. Each plea was more desperate than the last. When she’d left home, she’d promised herself never to return. She folded her clasped hands inward and held them to herchest. No matter how full of danger the Sun Temple was, it was still a safer place for her than the home Ìyá-Ayé built for her maidens. To her mother, she couldn’t lie, she couldn’t hold back secrets, nor could she hide her fear. A familiar sense of terror gripped her like an old friend. The sound of her heartbeat thrashed in her ears like the pounding of a pestle in a mortar.
Still on her knees, she begged, ‘Àlùfáà-Àgbà, if you would only permit me, I will find Alawani and bring him to you. I swear on my life, please, let me fix this.’
‘Don’t let dawn meet you within these walls,’ he replied.
Milúà tried again, reaching for his feet. She reminded him of her skills, her powers, and how she had defeated the abomination that stood tall in the courtyard. She begged with everything she could. Tears filled her eyes and rolled down her face in narrow streams.
Àlùfáà-Àgbà stood before her, unshaken. ‘As the words have left my lips.’
There was nothing more to be said. Àlùfáà-Àgbà had spoken the words that made his decision absolute. He used the spoken seal of power to send Milúà off to the devil herself.
‘So let it be done.’
A fi j’?ba, ò n ?e àwúre; dákun, ?é o f j? oyè ?lrun ni?
