by Kyrja
“My help,” he mocked her.
“Ozahm,” she continued to speak quietly, “each of us has a very important role here, and that includes you. Humans make you uncomfortable and angry, so maybe it would be best for you to return to what you were doing before Giya asked for your help here. Without your help, disease and pestilence will soon be rampant,” she paused, cocking her head at him. “Please. We need your help.”
“Fine words and fine manners,” he sneered at her. “Today they are enough, but they won’t always be.” In the next moment, he was gone.
Chapter Twenty-Three – Raito Rises
It was hard, sometimes, for Fumaini to believe he’d been Councilor Tojiru’s aid for more than twenty years, and the man still didn’t trust him with everything he needed to know in order to help him to the best of his abilities. Hard, he sighed to himself, and sometimes frustrating. It was times like this that made him wish he was a less-trustworthy man, and that he had fled the palace a very long time ago. Of course, there wasn’t anywhere in all of Bila that he could possibly have gone where the councilor wouldn’t have been able to find him, so there had never been any point in thinking of leaving at any rate. Still, he fumed, if he had known about this … mess … he might have proven himself to be useful before this late date.
Instead, he was here, on his knees, lantern in-hand, crawling through a darkened tunnel made of dirt, no higher than his waist, undoubtedly collecting cobwebs and spiders along the way – one or two of which were bound to bite him, or crawl into his ear. He shivered, just thinking about it, then decided that thinking about it wasn’t helping.
He felt his heart skip a beat when the light from his lantern reflected off of something ahead of him. Yes, there it was, just as the councilor’s letter had told him, a metal box. Inside was the body of the emperor. The real emperor, not the false one who had used magic to impersonate him for the past two years or more.
A letter sealed with poison wax had been brought to him when the councilor had not been seen for several hours. His was not to question why a certain number of hours had to pass before he received the letter, nor what was involved in delivering it. It was his responsibility to open it, read it, and take action on whatever the instructions might be. Only he possessed the antidote to the letter, so only he would have been able to open it without fear of death. And yet, he had feared death the moment it had been put into his hands. Retrieving the powder from a sealed vault, he pushed all of the questions away trying to crowd into his mind. Either he would find out the answers when he opened the letter, or he would not. There was really no middle ground, so he had done his best to remain calm, with a clear mind, as he sprinkled the powder over the wax, repeatedly, making absolutely certain the poison had been neutralized.
He’d nearly fainted with fear once he had opened it, and wondered if it might not have been better to have let the poison kill him after all. The councilor was convinced someone had replaced the emperor, and had spent a long time carefully observing the false emperor until he was certain he knew where the emperor’s body was. What he didn’t know, the letter made clear, was whether or not the emperor was yet kept alive by some kind of magical means, or whether he had already been assassinated. The letter confided that the councilor was fairly certain the emperor must still be alive in some fashion, or everyone in the palace would have already been killed by the magic created to do so if ever he died. That small piece of information certainly made Fumaini want to run screaming from the palace as quickly as his legs would take him, but since he knew he wasn’t likely to run under any circumstances, he put the thought aside, concentrating on how to get to the emperor as instructed by Councilor Tojiru’s letter. For all he knew, the councilor was in the other room, watching to see if he would do as instructed, or he may have others watching in his absence. Either way, Fumaini knew he had no choice in what he’d needed to do.
And here he was, on his hands and knees in a dark, dirty little chamber, alone with the emperor’s body. His next task was to move it to a location where the impersonator wouldn’t be able to find it. And without anyone seeing him do it. Fortunately, he had people in his own employ who were nearly as frightened of him as he was of Councilor Tojiru. And he knew exactly the right place to take the body. He wasn’t sure whether he hoped the emperor was still alive, or not.
* * * * * * * *
Holding absolutely still, Aidena watched as a man quietly closed the door to the tool shed behind him, noticing that both his knees and his hands were streaked with dirt. He was the same man she had seen enter the shed some time ago. No one else had accompanied him to the shed, and no one else had come out of the shed. This, she knew, was where Rhian had hidden the emperor’s body for quite some time. She had said she was concerned she’d hidden it there too long, but hadn’t had the time to move it. Disguised as the emperor, her every move was monitored and anticipated, with guards watching her every hour of the day, except when she was here, in the covered gardens.
Rhian had asked her to stay while she and Kaya went with Rajesh back to Nohoyo to answer Giya’s urgent call, so that if the worst came to pass and she, or the emperor, were discovered, Aidena would be able to defend herself and, perhaps, keep the emperor’s body from being stolen. Rhian had given her permission to bring down the palace if necessary, in order to keep the emperor’s body safe. It was the best they could manage before having to depart for Nohoyo. Rhian had argued against leaving, but Kaya had refused to leave her behind. Although they had cleaned up the mess created by Councilor Tojiru’s unexpected death, there was a real possibility others would come looking for him, or for the emperor who was supposed to be spending time in the covered gardens. Rhian had warned her to expect someone to check on her soon, but Aidena had known there was very little the three of them could have done to have prepared for the discovery that the emperor was missing.
And they had come, not long after Kaya, Rhian, and Rajesh had left. First a single servant, and then two dozen armed soldiers shortly after that. They had searched all throughout the gardens, looking through all the bushes, and even looking to see if any of the dirt had recently been dug up to indicate a newly-dug grave. They found nothing. Not the councilor’s body, and not her. She had floated to the top of the highest tree, taking Tojiru’s body with her, securing it fast to the branches there with straps of air, to make sure it didn’t suddenly topple out of the tree. She had watched as the soldiers made a thorough inspection of the gardens, taking the bait Rajesh had left behind by cracking one of the windows and popping a small section out of it. It appeared that everyone was convinced the emperor had been kidnapped.
When several hours had passed without Kaya and the others returning, Aidena started feeling like it might be time for her to leave after all. There was no way to accurately tell how long they’d been gone, since the sun had been shining for an unnaturally long time, and hadn’t gone back to a normal cycle yet. She was sure it should be night time by this point, but it was impossible to know for certain. The most important thing was to keep the body of the emperor safe, she knew, but also knew doing so wasn’t worth her own life. Then the man had come quietly into the gardens, moving quickly and quietly directly to the tool shed. From the way he’d been moving when he came back out, she was willing to bet he’d found what he was looking for, but the question was, how did he know to look for it now, even though it had been hidden in the same place for such a long time, undisturbed? And what, exactly, should she do about it – if anything?
Sighing deeply, Aidena hurried over to the tool shed, quietly opening the door, then shutting it behind herself. Fortunately, there was a glass roof here, just like the rest of the gardens, so she wasn’t likely to need a light. The other man had been carrying a lantern though, she remembered, and he’d had dirt on his knees. It only took her a moment to find the trail of dirt he’d left behind, leading right up to a wall. Obviously a false wall. It took her a few tries to find the hidden lever, and when she did, the door opened
silently inward. She could feel the cool air coming from the dark in front of her. A tunnel, then. Shaking her head, she decided to risk her own elemental power here, knowing that if she chose wrong, it would set off alarms and soldiers would come running.
“All right then,” she said, out loud, inhaling deeply. “Here we go …” She pulled what felt like a heavy rock towards her, using air to pull it to her. She heard no audible alarms, but she knew that didn’t necessarily mean there weren’t any giving off a silent warning to someone elsewhere in the palace. If she managed to get the emperor, she was just going to have to either fight her way out and hope that Kaya and the others returned quickly, or she was going to have to find a place to hide the body. Either way, it was too late to change her mind now.
It was a box! A metal box. A heavy one. Pulling harder, she brought the box to a stop, then blasted the lid off, intending to grab the body and get out. Instead, when she opened the lid, she found nothing inside. It was empty. If the emperor had ever been here, he was gone now.
Hearing voices shouting in the gardens, she turned around, shoving the door off its hinges, then used air to direct her to the ceiling of the covered gardens, along with another blast to crack the window above her, leaving glass raining down on the soldiers below her.
* * * * * * * *
“We have to return to Bila,” Kaya told Sahil.
“What? But you just arrived!” he protested.
“And we wouldn’t have come at all, if Than hadn’t brought Fire Tenders to the emperor’s palace,” Kaya explained. “We have much to discuss, but there truly isn’t any time.”
“I can’t leave just now,” Sahil told him, exasperated. “I can’t just leave Afdal, and I can’t move him like this. We can’t give him the chance to escape.”
“Sahil,” Kaya said, making his voice quieter, “the emperor isn’t dead. Rhian has been pretending to be him for a couple of years now, and …”
“No!” Sahil shook his head. “I would have known!”
“Hush!” Kaya admonished him. “She made sure you didn’t know, only letting you think she had died so you would come find me,” he explained. “We left Aidena there, alone, to protect him if she had to, but by now we’re sure she’s been found out, so we have to leave now. I just hope we’re in time.”
“Rajesh!” Sahil suddenly bellowed. “Lord Rajesh!” Kaya looked at him as if he’d finally lost his mind, unable to even guess what he might be up to.
“What is it Sahil?” Rajesh came to his side quickly.
“Are you, or are you not a god?” he asked, a look of determination so pure on his face, he looked as though he was angry enough to take on Rajesh single-handedly.
“I am,” he answered simply. “What is the problem?”
“You are now the god of Bila, and I saw what you and the others did when you all entered the Shield Room for the first time, just after Denit had transformed into a Firebird.”
“Yes, we revealed ourselves …” Rajesh began.
“No, no, no!” Sahil frowned, waving a hand in negation. “Almost everyone who was capable of using magic in that room used it against each other, but none of it worked. None of it Rajesh.”
“We nullified your magic,” he replied.
“You did what?” Rhian asked, stepping forward, astonished.
“So do the same for Afdal!” Sahil exclaimed. “We have to all go back to Bila. Right now. We are all needed there. Including you. The only way I can go is if I take my son with me. I won’t leave him here, to wreak havoc on anyone else if he escapes. Can you do this?”
Kaya watched as Rajesh internalized the question, obviously trying to decide whether he could or not, or perhaps if he should ask Giya first. In the end, he nodded his head. “I will carry Afdal in my arms and follow the three of you. I don’t want to nullify your magic by traveling with you.”
“Yes! Splendid!” Sahil said, relieved. “Jahari!” he called out, fast walking over to her to explain what needed to be done.
“You can nullify magic?” Rhian asked Rajesh.
“I have done so many times, yes,” he replied.
“You seem hesitant,” Rhian told him. “Is there a problem?” When he seemed reluctant to answer, Kaya prodded him.
“What is it Rajesh? You can tell me,” he paused. “Please tell me. Let me help. Giya said we could be good friends, and this is what friends do – we help each other.”
“I … I didn’t know I was a god until Giya told,” he said, a strange look on his face. “I always believed it was Lumas who was doing things through me. I didn’t know I was the one doing those things. I thought I was her … tool or something like that. An instrument of her will.”
“And now she’s gone,” Kaya prompted, “so you’re not sure what you can do?”
“I … I can. Yes,” his face shifted, making him look more confident. “Of course I can. This is what gods do. I’ve done it many times before. So of course I can do it again,” he smiled at Kaya.
“Good!” Kaya smiled back. “Let’s go back to Bila and figure out what we’re going to do from there.” When he looked at Rhian, though, she wasn’t smiling. “What is it?”
“I’ve been acting like my father so long,” she sighed, shaking her head, “I can’t help but to feel paranoid.” She tried to laugh off her fears with a chuckle, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes.
“Listen,” Kaya said, leaning towards her, locking eyes with her, “I don’t know what’s going to happen any more than you do, but I do know we can work it out together, even if that means you’re the empress and I’m nothing more than one of your servants. The important thing is to get you on the throne as yourself so the people of Bila can start having normal lives, instead of always being at war with each other. Isn’t that what you want?”
“Yes,” she said, “I want that more than anything.”
“Then let’s go,” he said, holding out his hand to her.
“I thought you said you wouldn’t mind being my servant,” she laughed – this time with a smile – looking at his hand.
“And I’ll be able to tell everyone else that I once got to hold the hand of the Empress,” he laughed as she took his hand.
* * * * * * * *
“Does it hurt?” Sakari asked Muuaji, reaching out to touch his forehead.
“It only did for a moment, but I think that was more from surprise than anything,” he said, still feeling stunned. “What does it look like?”
“Well,” she responded, “if you want to know the truth, it looks like a symbol of the sun. It’s yellow. Sort of. It’s also white. Maybe a little of both. It’s striking on your dark skin; I don’t think it would be as visible, or as eye-catching if you had lighter skin. Hold still and I’ll trace it for you with my finger so you can feel it.”
They had been walking back to the Fire Tenders’ living quarters after talking to Sahil and Vray when some kind of magic had swept over them, knocking Muuaji to the ground. The sensation had only lasted a moment, but when he had tried to get to his feet, he’d felt dizzy and had to sit back down on the ground, waiting for the feeling to pass. When Sakari had sat down beside him, she noticed the mark on his forehead, gasping out loud. They had talked about it for a moment, trying to make sense of it.
“Huh, it’s not raised, it’s flat, like it’s a part of your skin,” she told him. When she looked at him, Muuaji was wearing a grin of intense satisfaction.
“What are you so happy about?” she asked, her forehead wrinkled in confusion.
“It was Denit,” he answered her, his eyes glazing over, then he began to cry uncontrollably. Sakari could do nothing other than to pat his back, rub his arm, and wait for him to become coherent enough to talk. “take your time,” she told him over and over. “It’s all right.”
It took him longer than she thought it would have to stop crying and then to be able to talk without suddenly bursting out in tears all over again. She remained patient, despite needing to get back to the Fire Tend
ers to check on them. The dozens of Kasais expecting her would have to wait a while longer before she would be able to explain what their role would be in the new Nohoyo.
“I remember now,” Muuaji sniffed, wiping his arm under his nose. “I heard her voice. It was just such a shock, I didn’t understand it at first. Now that I am … now that I can … “ He sighed again, deeply. “We will be guides again, Sakari. Truly. And this,” he pointed to the sun on his forehead, “is her mark so everyone will know she is listening to us, and hears what we say. She wants us to teach!”
“Teach?” Sakari raised her eyebrows.
“Yes!” Muuaji replied, his excitement obvious. “She wants us to teach and to heal!”
“That’s amazing,” Sakari replied, “but what does she want you teach? I don’t understand.”
“She wants us to teach others how to live, instead of how to die,” he told her, a dreamy expression on his face.
“Peace? Is that what you’re saying?”
“Yes. Peace. And living together as equals. No more Kasais, no more Fire Tenders, no more living apart. Can you see it Sakari? Can you?”
“I can see that you are very happy,” she replied carefully, “but it’s going to take a lot of work and patience to get everyone to feel the same way you do. There will be plenty of people who won’t want to give up their power, or authority.”
Muuaji shrugged saying, “We have forever to learn how to do it right.” He smiled at her, then stood up, extending a hand to help her. “Come, let’s go talk to the Fire Tenders now.”
* * * * * * * *
“What is that? Nieva asked Vray, pointing at his left bicep. She was in her human form now, determined to spend time among people. The only way she could really do that was in her girl body, especially since Giya was so upset right now. It was impossible to stay near her when she angry. The energy she gave off was frightening. She had quietly been flitting in and out of conversations, listening carefully, as her Grandmother the Goddess had taught her how to do. She had always said that information could be powerful, but Nieva noticed that information could also be helpful, and so she listened, barely noticed by the grownups she passed.
