Beasts Made of Night

by Tochi Onyebuchi

  I’ve spent my whole life trying to do just that.

  Karima stands before each of them and bows to meet their level, then slips something shiny in each of their hands. Ramzi. Probably enough to feed their families for quite some time. Some of the children remain stone-faced and respectful. A few others smile widely. One of the little boys tries to keep his lips from trembling, but two tears run down his face. As much as I’m sure his parents tried to scrub him before he was presented here, there are still smudges of dirt on his cheeks.

  I duck out before anyone can notice me.

  The shuffle of my footsteps echoes along the cavernous hallway. Arzu falls into step beside me. I can never hear when she enters or when she leaves a room. If she wanted, she could sneak up on me, cut my throat, and I wouldn’t be able to tell until I had joined Infinity.

  Just as we’re about to turn a corner, I see her stop short in my periphery.

  I half turn. Her face is hardened, lips pressed into a thin line. I follow her gaze and see Princess Karima down the hall, talking with someone neither of us can see. She smiles at the person, nods her head, then comes my way. She puts out her hand, palm up. She’s not wearing her gloves anymore.

  “To you and your people, Taj.”

  I slide my hand over hers. “To you and yours, Princess.”

  “Would you like to walk with me?” she says, not quite asking.

  “Yes.” I look to Arzu, wondering if she’ll be coming with us.

  “Has your sicario been a good companion?”

  “Arzu? Oh, yeah. Doesn’t talk much though.”

  Princess Karima smiles. “Well, I’m sure we can do something about that.”

  I can feel my face redden as the princess threads her arm through mine. “Please, sicario, will you excuse us?” she says to Arzu, who turns abruptly and heads back the way we’d come.

  Princess Karima gently tugs my arm, and I shake myself out of my trance and join her.

  We walk for almost a minute in silence, up and around corridors with chandeliers glinting overhead and tossing colors along the walls. Kanselo amble in either direction along the walls. The Palace here bustles with quiet activity. People work here, I realize with astonishment.

  “Some of those children are so terribly gifted,” Karima says at last. “Some of them will make wonderful algebraists.” She leans in like we’re in on a conspiracy together. “If we can keep them away from some of these grubby Mages,” she says, smiling.

  I smile back. “To be honest, Princess, it was all a bit beyond me.”

  She presses her free hand against my arm. “Give it time, Taj.”

  I want to ask her about last night with Haris and the other cousins sniffing stones. Surely such sinful behavior would be forbidden here. But when she’d walked in, she’d said nothing.

  “I find that Mage very interesting. You know her, I think. The one with the glasses.”

  I smirk, because I know she’s trying to be funny. “Many of the Mages wear glasses, Princess.”

  “Aliya. Yes, that’s her name. She has such fascinating ideas for the children and for scholarship more generally. I think she would make a fantastic student in the Ulo Amamihe. Izu believes that she should become kanselo. He thinks her place is as a lawmaker, deciding what actions constitute sins. I disagree. I think her talents indicate that she belongs elsewhere.”

  “You have a say in that? Who joins the Great House of Ideas?”

  She looks my way. “Well, if a student can teach us how to use our mathematical arts to unlock space and time, as well as find medical applications for them, then we’d be smart to keep her here.”

  “She can do all that?”

  “She’s quite gifted.”

  She stops walking, and I have to stop with her.

  “How are you feeling, Taj?”

  “I’m well.”

  “You walk very stiffly. Are you sore?”

  I didn’t even realize how straight my back had gotten. “No, Princess. Just . . .”

  And that’s when I realize that the hall we’ve just turned down is empty. No one’s around. Karima lets go of my arm, then pushes open a door to her left. Before it opens all the way, I know that this is my room. I was so distracted by the princess that I didn’t even notice. I look around, then she pulls me in, and the door clicks shut behind me.

  It’s a mess, clothes everywhere, some outfits I’ve only tried on once.

  My face is on fire with embarrassment.

  She walks to the center of the room and stands on the eight-pointed star patterned in the tiles. And as she moves, she looks around and considers the place, taking it all in.

  Then she turns back to face me.

  “You needn’t be nervous around me, Taj.” She waves her hand at the empty room. “It’s just us.” She glances at me, then looks ahead. “Everyone here frowns on curiosity. The very notion of curiosity is severely devalued. No one seems to care about the world outside the Palace grounds, which is why we are so fortunate to have you in our midst.”

  “We, Princess?”

  She puts a hand to her chest, blushing. “Well, I can only speak for myself. I’m the fortunate one. But I speak of this apathy in my family for the world outside, which even seems to extend to theology.”

  As she speaks, she moves closer to me until we’re standing face-to-face. I can feel her breath on me.

  I clear my throat. I’ve never wanted to be so close to someone as I am to her right now.

  “In today’s devotional, I was reading about penance and absolution. And what we are called upon to do in service of the Most High, the Unnamed.” Her eyes are wide and earnest. She really does care about this. “And the familiar line is that we are but soldiers in a larger battle with our dark portions, but why? Why do we sin?”

  I can’t imagine the princess sinning, pure and pristine as she is right now, practically glowing.

  She puts a hand on my forearm and gently pulls me closer. I think she’s about to whisper a secret in my ear, but her eyes are trained straight ahead.

  “I’ve spent much time praying on this and thinking. I believe sin is a necessary part of our existence. The world is richer for the darkness existing in it.” Her face breaks into a smile. “Do you see, Taj? The truth is Balance. Light and dark. We are all necessary parts of the tapestry.”

  My head is swimming. One thought pierces the cloud and clears the fog, and before I can call them back, the words fly out of my mouth. “Even the Mages?”

  She stops, looking stricken. I’ve spoken out of turn. I’ve probably just signed my own death warrant.

  She looks directly into my eyes, unwavering. I’ve never seen a more beautiful face in my life. Her words make me feel like I’m the only other person in all of Kos.

  “Show me,” she whispers.

  “Princess?”

  She takes my hand and guides me to my bed. The sheets are twisted, and the pillows all fell off at some point in the night. We stand right at the bed’s corner, my back up against one of the wooden columns of the bedframe. Carvings of arashi press into my back.

  “Show me,” she murmurs again. She slides my sleeves up my arms.

  Her eyes don’t widen at the sight of my sin-spots. Instead, she moves closer, hand pressed against my bicep, and traces with one finger the arch of a jungle cat’s back as it runs along my shoulder.

  Her fingers wrap around my arms, and my hands move to her waist.

  I lean back so that the arashi carvings dig into the skin of my back. Karima presses her body against mine and runs her fingers over the curling snakes by my throat. “What sins are these?” she whispers into my neck.

  I can’t remember them. I force myself not to.

  Her fingers spiral down toward my back.

  “They’re mine now.”

  Hands firm on my shoulders
, she turns me around, so that I rest against the bedpost. “And these?” she asks, sliding a finger down the dragon whose spine runs along mine. “Whose is this?”

  Memories return. Of the sin-dragon I fought, the one that nearly killed Bo. “Your brother’s.”

  Her hands stop. And she looks up at me. Over the top of her head I see Arzu standing silently in the doorway.

  Karima notes my hesitation and turns. “Well. It seems that someone else demands your attention.” She nods at Arzu, who has her fists balled at her sides. The princess lets go of my arms, then takes my hands in hers. “Be well, Taj. To you and your people.”

  “To you and yours, Princess.”

  I watch her slip out the door and down the dark corridor.

  Arzu clears her throat. “Izu wishes to speak with you,” she says, standing in front of me.

  Dazed and still on fire with the memory of Karima’s touch, I shrug my robe back onto my shoulders and pick my sash up from the floor.

  “OK,” I murmur.

  CHAPTER 17

  IZU’S QUARTERS LOOK completely different from the rest of the Palace grounds. Just four stone walls and a wooden desk with a wooden chair that scrapes loudly against the hard floor. Everything here looks like punishment. I can’t believe that a guy like Izu is forced to live in a place like this. I can’t even see a bed anywhere. No pallet on the floor either. Nazim’s office looks like the inside of a castle in comparison.

  The warmth I felt with Karima suddenly feels very far away. A part of me still can’t believe I was actually that close to the princess—that she actually touched me. The softness of her fingers as they traced my sin-spots, and the sound of her voice as she whispered into my ears.

  Izu coughs. I can’t tell if it’s because he saw my mind wandering or if it was because of the draft, but it’s enough to make me remember where I am.

  There’s only one chair, and Izu places it behind his desk and sits in it. Guess I’m supposed to just stand here, then.

  “So. Lightbringer.” No matter how much lightness he puts into his voice, he can’t get rid of the hiss. “How are you enjoying your new post?”

  I shrug and cross my arms, trying to find an interesting crevice in the wall to stare at. “Everyone here is so pure that I don’t really have much work,” I say, hoping he catches my sarcasm.

  Izu smiles, but there’s no mirth in it.

  I look around and take the place in, trying to seem as nonplussed as possible. Hopefully, that’ll convince Izu to hurry up and finish whatever he has me here for.

  “Ah, yes. My chambers. Maybe you are thinking to yourself that I am not nearly as important as others may think if my chambers are so diminutive. In our quest to join Infinity, however, modesty is a principal virtue. Sometimes, the most elegant formulas are the simple ones. A lack of material possessions is chief among our duties. So that, lacking in outward comforts, we may rely on the Unnamed for spiritual sustenance. To balance us.”

  “Guess that makes us aki pretty holy then.”

  A smirk crosses Izu’s face. “Perhaps it does.” He reclines in his chair and, surprisingly enough, manages to look comfortable. “And your companion? Is she . . . suitable?”

  “Suitable for what?”

  “As your guardian.”

  I snort. “Is that what a sicario is supposed to be doing? Well, yeah, she’s pretty good at it. Not sure how she’d protect me from a sin-dragon, though.”

  Light glints in Izu’s snake-shell eyes. They say lizards adjust their body temperature to their surroundings, so they can survive in cold as well as hot weather. Put them in a suffocating room with no windows or in a dungeon at the bottom of a castle during the cold months, and they would survive all the same. Unbothered. Maybe that’s why he’s so at ease here. “It seems, then, that we’ve alighted on your main concern.”

  “Concern?”

  “You appear . . . bored . . . with your current employment.”

  “It gives me a bed to sleep in, so I can’t really complain. But King Kolade is not much of a sinner,” I lie. “Other than the one time.”

  Izu pulls a string of prayer beads out of his sleeve and thumbs through them, probably thinking his way into a reply. “I have a proposition for you, then. A job.” He shrugs. “The position is much less glamorous than your current posting. And you would be far from the Palace, but there will likely be more danger, more excitement. It seems the domestic tranquility of the Palace does not suit you.”

  It’s tough to get loose in this room when I’m just standing. Like the room itself is telling me that I can’t be comfortable. Can’t slouch. Can’t hunch over. Can’t favor one leg over the other. So, I stand straight up, like a fool, and say, “I’ve never liked feeling closed in. What’s this proposition?”

  “You would train other aki.”

  “Train how?”

  Izu spreads his hands. “Why, help them master their talents. You are the most skilled aki in Kos.”

  “I see no lies.”

  “We can use more like you. These would be younger aki. Some still developing their ability. They have little to no control over it, and many of them have never Eaten before. They would very much value your wisdom and expertise.”

  I’m trying to find the angle here and figure out why Izu wants me out of the Palace. I’m sure he’s nervous having me around, which is probably why he’s had Arzu tailing me. The more I think about it, the more I search for a reason, the more I realize it probably has something to do with the princess. That time in my bedroom and the little time I got to spend by the Wall with the Seven Scribes were the only moments when Arzu wasn’t breathing down my neck. Which means that even though Izu is making this sound like I have a choice, I probably don’t. Arzu’s been spying for this Mage.

  “These children are young,” he says again. “You can pass along the princess’s wisdom and knowledge of the Word. If, of course, you haven’t been too busy to converse with her.”

  He does know. The ruby-licker knows about me and the princess. “Are these the same aki you people snatch up during your Baptisms? When you’re busy destroying their homes?”

  Izu shakes his head slowly. “These children we gather have nowhere else to go. You can help them. We are all working to build a pure Kos. We all play our roles. Mages guide the herd. Aki keep us from succumbing to the weight of our sins.” A smile twitches at the edge of his lips. “You can also get a glimpse of what lies beyond the Wall.”

  “I’ll think about it.” The only way out is past Izu’s desk, and I brush by it, knocking my hip against it. When I get to the door, I hear him turn in his chair.

  “Regarding your decision, your haste would be much appreciated. If the king does not find a suitable candidate soon, he may be forced to Baptize another dahia in Kos, hoping, of course, that there will be nuggets of gold in the cleansing waters that pour through those streets. Aki powerful enough to suit his purposes, perhaps.”

  And there it is. The threat that I’ve been waiting for. Take this new job or an entire dahia gets destroyed in another Baptism.

  “I’ll have your answer by tomorrow,” I say, fists clenched at my sides. I don’t wait for him to dismiss me.

  Just outside his door, I pause.

  I could go back and tell Izu no. I could hope and pray to the Unnamed that Karima would save whatever dahia Izu would choose. Maybe she would stand between Izu and her brother. Maybe she would do it for me, for the people of Kos.

  I double back but stop when I see another Mage sweep into Izu’s chambers. Before the person vanishes into the room completely, her hood falls back to reveal the face of a bespectacled girl. Aliya.

  She latches the door behind her, but the wood does a poor job of obscuring their voices.

  “We want to train our aki. They are so important to this society. You of all people know that. And at the Festival of Reunificat
ion, we will celebrate them and all they have accomplished. They are the last line of defense between Kos and the arashi. Were it not for them, this city would have long ago been destroyed by the uncleansed sin that fills it. Finally, the aki will no longer have to live in hiding, shunned by the very people they protect.”

  For a long time, there’s silence. Then beads clicking against one another.

  “But, Mage. All those sins . . .”

  “That is why I am sending you to the camps to help them, to train them. You have a gift. You can decipher texts at a remarkable speed. You can make connections that illuminate new meaning in the Word. You understand Balance and what one must do to proceed to Infinity sinless. Those aki will need you.”

  I can’t make out every word, but I know the type of person Izu is. He must be threatening her with something. Baptize the dahia where she comes from? Demote her? Forever bar her from the Ulo Amamihe, so she has no hope whatsoever of joining the algebraists in the Great House of Ideas? Whatever it is, Izu has her in his grasp. I press my ear to the door. There’s movement. A hushed exchange I can’t make out, then footsteps moving closer. Fast. I hear one last whisper before I go.

  “I won’t let our aki down,” Aliya says.

  I make a run for it and round the corner just as I hear the door creak open.

  Izu’s got an angle here. He always does. Now, whatever his plan is, Aliya’s part of it. Maybe she’ll have the answers I need.

  CHAPTER 18

  THE NEXT MORNING, at my request, they bring my breakfast tray out to a table on the balcony. I look out at Kos as I eat. It’s so small and unremarkable in the distance. It must be horrible to spend one’s entire life here and see that whole city as little more than a speck against a massive gray wall. To never see the Scribes’ handiwork. To never hear the poets standing on raised daises in the thoroughfare and shouting those stanzas they spent way too much time trying to put together. To never watch the older women and some of their families crowd around the itinerant holy men reciting from the Word or giving their own sermons. To never smell the sweet tang of halal meat spinning on the butchers’ skewers or the beautiful sting of pepper soup boiling.