Page 5 of Firstborn of the Sun
Struggling beneath his weight, L’?r? used her hands to twist at his ankle when suddenly, his foot was off her head. She looked up to see Yellow Teeth on the floor next to her, blood pouring from his mouth. Someone pulled her off the ground, and she knew by the feel of his hands that it was Alawani.
‘Right on time,’ she said, smiling and spitting out the blood in her mouth.
‘What’s going on? Why are we fighting? Who are these guys?’ he asked, his naturally curved brows furrowing together in disapproval.
‘I’ll explain later!’ She crashed her blades against each other, spilling sparks of light in the direction of the remaining duo, who were still raging for a fight.
‘This is no be your fight, ?m?’ba. Commot make I no wound you,’ the masked man said to Alawani as he pulled down the scarf that concealed his lower face, revealing a skull tattoo across his cheek.
The bald man looked to his comrade and then to Alawani, ‘?m?’ba or not, the girl cut Shaki hand. If we no do our own back, make thunder strike us.’
Of course, they didn’t care that Alawani was the ?m?’ba. Long ago, the gods had declared that no child of a sovereign could inherit the throne, an unyielding part of the deal the first High Priest made with the gods in exchange for agbára, so the Holy Order found other ways to secure an heir. So it didn’t matter whether the people called him a prince or not: with no inheritance, authority or claim, his title meant nothing and he was fair game.
‘If you want her, you’ll have to go through me,’ Alawani growled.
The men sneered sinisterly.
Alawani looked at L’?r?. She gave him a wicked grin, knowing what he was asking her to do. Muscles tensing, she set her stance to fight.
Alawani drew his sword and awakened his agbára, turning the cool steel from dull grey to gold. L’?r? placed her back against his, and they stood firm, protecting each other as they fought the men. She faced the masked one. Was she suffering from a concussion that made her slower, or was he faster than Yellow Teeth? Whatever it was, she kept going.Her strength renewed every time her back slammed into Alawani’s, reminding her that she wasn’t alone. They were in sync – this was their battle dance. When she threw one of her blades into the air so she could use her free hand to throw punches, he caught it before it reached the ground – using it seamlessly as a second weapon. When she needed it again, he found her hand without looking back. They’d practised every step for years. Behind her, L’?r? heard the man Alawani fought scream. Then came the familiar smell of metal burning flesh.
The men went down, and just before they could exhale in relief, half a dozen thugs stormed into the arena. One glance at each other was all L’?r? needed to know Alawani’s next move. She took a step back. He clapped his palms together and took in a deep breath. As he separated them, his agbára’s light intensified. His palms glowed so brightly that L’?r? had to look away. She took another few steps back as he rapidly heated the air around them and held the form for a moment, radiating heat energy until his hands shimmered and the air began to boil. Through squinted eyes, she saw threads of light tracing the edge of the glowing orb vibrating in his hands. He threw it at the wall, and the rush of hot air hit the men descending into the pit and sent them flying against the stone stairs.
L’?r? smiled. Prince or not, he was pretty impressive.
Now wasn’t the time to be jealous, but she couldn’t help it. In all her life, with all her tricks, she’d never been – and would never be – able to form an energy blast like that. Alawani was more powerful than ordinary people in Oru because he’d inherited the agbára of his father, the king. She couldn’t stop her heart from squeezing tight against her chest every time she witnessed his powers. She even tried whispering the same words that awakened her blades.Nothing. Her pale hands remained the way they’d always been. Ordinary. She closed her eyes and formed fists around her blade handles.
She was lost in her thoughts, and between the loud blasts and the crash of debris, she didn’t hear the man creep up behind her. Not until a sweaty palm slammed against her face. She raised her blades to strike but could not move her arms as two men from the group restrained her, one on each side, and knocked them from her hands. She tried to scream, but her voice was muffled. Alawani spun, shocked to see the bulky man holding her hostage. He, too, had let his guard down.
Even in her panic, L’?r? knew better than to look to Command for help. She couldn’t let anyone know that the commander was there at all.
‘Let her go, and no one will get hurt,’ Alawani said, trying to keep an even tone, one glowing hand in front of him and another on his sword.
The man holding her face laughed. ‘Why you go dey protect this coward pikin. You no hear wetin she do? If e be like say we rate you now dat one go be different matter but as e be like this, if you no commot for road we go clear you too abi you no see as we many? You wey suppose beg as we corner you so. ??g?, handle this boy, abeg.’
From the corner of her eyes, L’?r? saw another thug rise from the debris and smash a glass bottle against his head. He used the glass-sharp edge of the remnant to cut an incision on his hand. He ignited his agbára and yelled out a battle cry, showing them both that he was ready to die there and then. There was nothing worse than fighting someone who wasn’t afraid to die.
Even though everyone in the kingdom had agbára oru, every fight started with fists and weapons. Only fools used their powers when fighting an unknown opponent. Thegods were cunning in how they distributed agbára, and you couldn’t know how powerful your enemy’s was until you gave them a reason to show you. Agbára changed the game. While it was hereditary, the intensity and strength with which it manifested was not. Those odds turned every fight into one against the whims of the gods.
L’?r? was still trying to figure out a way out of the mess she’d found herself in when the ground beneath her feet started burning. Curse the sun. Alawani was going to burn them all.
She threw her head back, hitting her captor’s nose. He cried out but didn’t release his grip. His large sweaty hand held on tighter. She twisted and turned, but there was no way out.
‘I won’t say it again. Let her go!’ Alawani growled, holding his glowing hand in the air.
One of the men stepped forward and tried to form an energy blast. Alawani didn’t even move. They all watched as the other man’s hands vibrated vigorously as he tried to form and hold the energy ball. It expanded too quickly and blew up in his face. He went down just as fast – a victim of his own weakness.
They should’ve backed down, but L’?r? knew they wouldn’t. If the man holding her didn’t have his dirty hand so firmly against her mouth, she would’ve warned him to run for his life. But it was too late.
Alawani stretched out his glowing hands, and in mere moments, from behind them, the ground began to burn, and magma burst out of it. The brownish sand gave way to the hot orange liquid that spread, inching closer to the men with every moment. L’?r? could tell that it had stung someone from the cries of one of the men.
They hadn’t seen anything yet.
Alawani clapped his hands together, and when he separatedthem, the magma followed his command. His hands moved in the air like a puppeteer manoeuvring his strings, and the burning substance floated inches above the ground. The air around them grew so thick with heat that L’?r? felt her head spinning and her vision blurring as she grew faint.
‘I’ll bury you all in this if you don’t release her right now.’
The men relinquished their grips so quickly that even L’?r? was shocked. She ran to Alawani’s side, and he shielded her with his body.
