It’s morning now, and I think everybody can tell that training is almost over. There’s more and more chatter about the Festival of Reunification, and some of the more observant aki have begun preparing for it the way they remember their parents doing. Some of them have begun fasting but don’t complain when I run them down with drills. Whenever the call to prayer sounds, so faint you can barely hear it from this part of the forest, a bunch of them gather, and even though they don’t have prayer rugs, they line up facing the city and they pray.
Most of the other aki don’t really say anything to them about it. They just sort of let them do their thing in peace, even though I know some of them think it’s stupid or a waste of time. But if they’re cynical about it, they don’t show those other little aki who are always brushing dirt off their knees and foreheads when they come back from prayer in the mornings and afternoons and evenings.
I don’t know what to tell the aki who still expect to be reunited with their families when they go back into Kos and begin their new lives as tools for the Mages. Am I supposed to tell them about how cramped their rooms are going to be? How they’re gonna have to practically sleep on top of one another? Am I supposed to tell them about how Costa’s always messing with the rates so you can never get paid decent money for what you Eat? Do I warn them about the Palace guards and how they’ll bust your head first and figure out a reason later? I don’t know.
Maybe I’ll tell them about the view from the shanties and how much of Kos you can see from up that hill. Maybe I’ll tell them about how there are so few lights at night that you can actually see the stars. You can see how very many of them there are and how impossible it is to count them all. Maybe I’ll tell them about what it’s like to learn Kos, to really, really learn it. Its streets, its alleyways. To learn it like the newsboys. To see Scribes paint the Wall. Yeah, I think I’ll tell them that.
The one at the center of the circle, her name is Noor.
She has a number of small sins running up and down her bare arms. Snakes coiled around each other. Mages stand behind the other aki gathered, an outer circle. Me, I’m perched on a rock, watching the whole thing from a grassy ledge. I need this view. And I’m close enough to Catch the sin if Noor isn’t able to beat it.
I don’t want to bury another aki.
A rustle of clothes behind me, and I can tell it’s a Mage. I squint. Aliya’s already down there.
“If the sin-beast escapes, try not to rush in too swiftly. Exercise caution.” It’s Ishaq. And he’s really telling me to let the inisisa consume Noor before I go in to Catch it.
“I’ll go in when I feel it’s necessary to go in, Mage.”
He bristles at my tone; I can feel it behind me. He wants to say something or do something, anything to assert his power over me, but he can’t. This one is probably with Izu. They’re all of the same breed. But things will change. Soon. We aki are necessary, I want to tell him. And I want to watch his brown irises flicker, knowing that any secrets he thinks he has aren’t secrets anymore. But for now, I say nothing else. I just watch.
A Mage with silver braids running down her neck stands before Ras, chooses him, then brings him to the center of the circle. A pattern has been crudely etched into the dirt, like what was painted on King Kolade’s floor when his sin was called forth. By now, tattoos circle Ras’s wrists, ankles, and forearms. It’s too far away for me to see clearly, but I know something large has been branded into his back. That’s what the Mage is going to call.
When they get to the center of the pattern, the Mage has Ras come to his knees. Ras undoes his shirt and lets it fall past his shoulders, revealing what I can now see is a griffin.
The incantations from the Mage’s mouth are whispers on the wind from where I’m sitting, but now I can sound out the words. It’s not just noise anymore. It’s a prayer.
Then there’s no sound. Not even wind. I can’t hear the incantation anymore. Ras bends over on all fours and vomits onto the ground. Black bile, thick, solid. His back spasms with each convulsion, and several seconds in, he can barely hold himself up. No one here is seeing this for the first time. The younger aki used to cry or shake with fear. Some would stare in sheer terror. Now they watch the same way they’d scan the sky for a monsoon.
Finally, Ras spits out the last of the sin. Aki dart into the circle and help him to his feet, then bring him back to the others.
Noor hasn’t moved. She has her daga in her hands and her legs shoulder-width apart in her fighting stance. In a moment, it’s just her in the circle with the boiling pool of sin.
The wings sprout first, instantly at full spread, then the rest of its back. It raises its neck out of the pool, and shadows drip from its beak. It crows soundlessly, then leaps into the air, leaving a thin trail of dark that evaporates once the griffin gets high enough in the sky.
Each flap of its wings raises dust and twigs. The circle spreads.
I scan the tree line and note which branches are where and how easily one can get to the tops of those trees. Which branches are thin, which would support my weight. What the inisisa wants is below, but if it ends up trying to fly away, I have to figure out how best to Catch it. We’re far enough away from the Wall that it shouldn’t be able to scent anyone in Kos, no matter how hard the wind blows from there.
The griffin circles.
Everyone, aki and Mages, has their breath held tight in their chests. Aliya, who had been taking notes this entire time on her parchment, now just stares, unmoving. Some follow the griffin’s flight. Others keep their eyes trained on Noor. She is the only one moving. And just barely. Slow, easy breaths.
Just like I taught her.
One flap of the griffin’s massive wings and everyone’s arms go up to shield their eyes from the twigs and dust and leaves blown our way.
The griffin dives straight for Noor.
She rolls to the side, avoids the pass. The inisisa circles, drifting upward, wafting on a gust of air. It turns, then swoops.
Noor catches its talons with her daga, slices, and the thing flaps backward. Sand and twigs blow straight for her. The circle spreads wider. The griffin steadies itself. Leaps into the air, then dives again. She’s not able to bring her daga up in time. Claws tear through her shoulder. She throws herself to the ground. The griffin soars with nothing in its talons while Noor drags herself along the ground. The claws have cut her strap. We all see the griffin turn, and I flick my daga into my hand. She doesn’t have enough time to get to hers. She gets her feet underneath her, staggers into a run. The beast heads straight toward her. Its claws are ready to tear through her back.
She falls. The griffin misses her. On her feet again, she darts for her daga. Grabs it just as the beast whirls around. It pecks at her with its beak. She has the daga in her good hand, bats away each strike with one of her own. Left. Right. Right. Left. Left. Right.
End it soon, Noor. You’re getting tired.
It flaps at her again. Fallen branches and dirt go everywhere.
Noor snatches a broken branch out of the air and, with her good hand, wields it like a staff. That stance . . .
Her torn arm lies limp, but in her good arm is the staff.
Each time the griffin reaches for her, she smacks it away. Again. Again. Spinning to add power to each strike.
It lunges for her, beak wide open. And grabs her staff.
I get ready to leap off the ledge and Catch, but Noor holds on. Swings herself onto the griffin’s back using the staff. Her knees wrap around the griffin’s neck. She flicks her daga upside-down in her fist and stabs the sin-beast in the nape of its neck.
The griffin’s back arches. Noor holds tight.
Then it dissolves beneath her, and she lands on her feet. Her knees buckle, but a moment later, she’s upright.
When she goes to sheathe her daga, she misses a few times, then gets it in the armband. And she does i
t with her bad arm.
The griffin has turned back into a puddle of ink. Noor turns to face it. The sin arcs up in the air like water from a fountain, then lands in her open mouth. Her legs almost give out beneath the weight of it. But it’s not till she swallows all of it that she falls to her knees. Immediately, the others rush to her aid. One of them has already torn off a piece of his shirt to make a sling.
I can’t believe she did it. I’ve already seen a couple of my students Eat, but this was the biggest sin-beast, and Noor was among the youngest aki. It’s her greatest sin so far. From the way they’re carrying her, she has already passed out from the pain of the branding.
That’s today’s big event, so the aki’ll have nothing else to do until they break fast. Ishaq is gone, so it’s just me on the ledge.
Which makes me relieved, because it means he’s not here to watch me try to bring feeling back into the left side of my body.
By the time I make it back to my cave, both my legs fail me and I have to crawl. It’s never been this bad before. Now when part of me gets numb, pain flashes in my brain, then everything becomes gray. Everything turns into shapes, and then when I close my eyes, the vision returns. Karima surrounded by the lion and the snake. When it’s not that, it’s the memory of Zainab Eating my mother’s sin. I manage to get my hand to my face. I open my eyes and see that her stone still shines around my wrist.
It’s getting harder and harder to sit through these. I thought I had more time. I can’t Cross yet. The sins I’ve Eaten are catching up to me. If I Eat any more sins, it may be too much. I’ll never make it back to Kos. To Karima.
A stray cat ambles by, turns to look at me, then moves on. That’s right. Nothing to see here.
Images swim in my head. Guilt swims in my stomach.
But it will pass, I tell myself, as I try to sleep. Just a few hours of rest, and it will pass.
CHAPTER 28
THE CAMP IS deserted when night falls.
It’s only a few more days until the Festival of Reunification, and some of the aki have started to realize that their return to Kos might coincide with al-Jabr, the Day of Reunification. I guess it makes sense. If we’re supposed to be celebrating the Reunification of Broken Things, why make it just about being reunited with the Unnamed and being purified for a night? Why can’t it mean something more literal? Why can’t it be these children seeing their families again?
I take my time walking through their quarters. It’s so quiet. I hear crickets chirping and night birds chatting with one another. Animals scurry up trees, but I’m the only person I can hear. I walk by the bathing area, now with a few stalls and a bucket for each. I can’t believe how good it feels just to be able to walk again.
The griffin Noor defeated takes up most of the space in my brain. I’m replaying her moves, the whole course of the battle, when I almost trip over something. I look down, and it’s her staff. Rather, it’s the random tree branch she turned into her staff.
In my hands, it’s an awkward thing. I try to swing it around, to hold it like she did, and I can’t get out of my own way. I’m probably still recovering from the earlier numbness. It’s almost like I have to relearn how to use my arms and legs. It’s a mystery to me how Noor did what she did. I put down the staff before I break my own nose with it.
These aki have shared so much. Living quarters, food, sins.
With a start, I remember that their sin-spots will fade with time while mine won’t. I look at my hands, my arms. In the darkness, they’re hidden from me. When my limbs aren’t numb, I spend almost all my time thinking about when next they’ll go numb. It takes every inch of willpower to stop myself from shaking. After several minutes, I’ve caught my breath again. Now I feel like I can join them. Follow the noise. The music and the conversation. The candlelight. The closer we get to al-Jabr, the Day of Reunification, the looser things get here. The old rules and hierarchies start to rust and fall apart. Maybe we’re all just getting tired.
The soft glow just over the ridge throbs like a heartbeat.
I crest the small hill, and it all spreads out before me. In the Mages’ quarters, tables have been arranged in a line along the main path, and seats have been crafted out of tree trunks, large boulders, unused thatch crates, and anything else that could be found in the forest or among the supplies. Aki seven years of age eat next to Mages who have seen seven decades. The Mages with the different stripes denoting rank are scattered throughout, and I can tell which aki have classes with which Mage because of how they joke with one another and how some Mages can’t keep from practicing lessons with the little ones even at the evening breakfast. Aliya’s there too. Some of the older aki crowd next to Noor and help her with her food, her bad arm in a sling. She still looks weary, but she’s smiling. And enjoying the attention and respect the others now throw her way. The tables are laden with bowls, and I can’t imagine where and when all this food was made. But they’re all eating it, so it can’t be that bad. Maybe they’re all just that hungry.
Each place setting has its own glass, and pots of tea dot the tables at regular intervals. At one point, several Mages retreat into one large tent and reemerge with massive dishes of meat and vegetables. The aki cheer.
Some of them swing their legs because their feet can’t touch the ground from where they sit. I don’t know why I can’t bring myself to join them. The Unnamed knows how hungry I am, chai!
Maybe it’s because I know there’s a fight waiting for them, one they don’t know they’re a part of. And, if I’m being honest, maybe it’s because I can’t bring myself to sit next to a Mage. No matter what Aliya says, a Mage is always going to be someone who shorts me on my payments, who stalks the city during Baptisms, pointing out aki to be snatched up and brought to camps like this. And now, after she’s told me that the kanselo must be destroyed, I don’t know if I can trust any of them. Forever, I’ll be wondering, with each Mage I walk past, whether they’re a friend or enemy, whether they want to save Kos or hand it over to Izu. Or maybe it’s because something might happen to me, and the aki will have to figure out what to do when I’m not around, and I don’t know how to prepare them for that.
So I turn back and head to the Wall.
Moonlight illuminates enough of the Wall for me to read the Kosian script running like a band underneath the colored paintings of inisisa. I’m lucky the words are simple enough for me to follow.
Eventually, I get to a dip in the ground running along the Wall. My hands reach out all around me, and I figure out I’m in a tunnel. No light to guide me. The recent rain has my feet sloshing through mud, but hearing the sound gives me a little bit of comfort. I don’t have to feel like I’m sneaking up on someone. According to Aliya, I’m supposed to be among friends.
When I do find the glow of candlelight, I still have to make sure to stay along the right tunnels. In some places, it reflects off into spaces that don’t exist. But soon enough, the tunnel narrows into a small passage that I have to crawl through.
Suddenly, I’m in a room twice as big as our whole shanty. In it, several Mages gather around a table. Others rush back and forth, while others still are huddled in corners, whispering quietly to themselves.
Aliya looks up from where she stands at the table. How did she get here so quickly from the breakfast?
“Oh, Taj, you made it.” She hurries over to me, grabs me by the arms, and looks me up and down, as if to make sure it’s really me. “I can’t say how happy I am you received our message.”
Another Mage walks up to me, silver braids coming down her neck. The one who’d called Ras’s sin for Noor to fight. “To you and your people, aki.”
I look down, and her hand is out. It’s the smallest of moments before I slide my hand over hers, but everyone notices my hesitation. “To you and yours, Mage.”
She turns to Aliya. “So this is the aki you spoke of.”
Aliya puts her
hand to my shoulder. “Taj, this is Miri. She’s the leader of our faction. She and Amadi first brought us together.” She nods to another Mage, this one by a separate wall. He has a red stripe on his shoulder.
“We are nearing the end of our plans,” Aliya says to me, “so it’s imperative that we catch you up. You are an integral part.” She looks around. “We are only now waiting for our agent to return with the map.”
“The map?”
Before I can get an answer, a gate swings open at another entrance, and someone calmly steps through. Soft boots. Cotton leggings. Leathers.
“Arzu?”
She turns at the sound of my voice, as shocked to see me as I am to see her.
“You’re their agent?” I cough out a laugh and run to her, practically tackling her in a hug. She tenses in my arms, and I realize that me being like this is probably stranger for her than it is for me. I let go and hold her at arm’s length, give her a chance to see how much her habit of dress has influenced mine, give her a chance to see how happy I am to see her.
The reunification of broken things.
“Taj.” Aliya again.
I let go of Arzu and see that she has rolled-up parchment under her arm.
“I have finished mapping the tunnels beneath Kos,” Arzu says, then she and Aliya hurry to the table, where a map is spread out, and they pore over it, heads bowed together.
Beasts Made of Night Page 19
