Kadj'el (The As'mirin Book 1)

by Ada Haynes

  She was thinking furiously. “I need As’leandra, at least, Ekbeth.”

  “Kimiel! The girl has just heard her father is dead! Give her some time to grieve, at least! The Na Liathes’ house was the worst hit. She’s probably going to be the next Akeneires’eli of the Na Liathes—a lot of responsibility for someone so young. Especially in sorrowful times like these.”

  He pointed at the map Najeb and As’leandra were holding. “The Na Liathes are also responsible for the maintenance of the buildings. She will certainly be glad Najeb can help.”

  He shook his head. “The only good thing in that whole sad story, maybe, is that with her father now dead, and her becoming the head of her family, she can marry pretty much anyone she likes.”

  Shona’s mind went blank with shock when she heard that. Surely, the Goddess would have not gone so far to answer As’leandra plea?

  Her back started hurting.

  Of course not! I don’t control everything! This landslide was not my doing. S’emoel na Liathe was just at the wrong place at the wrong time!

  Shona gritted her teeth until the pain receded. She would have to talk to As’leandra at the earliest occasion. No doubt the girl was blaming herself. And she needed an update on the progress being made in the search for Sonam.

  Ekbeth was now frowning, while looking at her. She patted his arm. “Stop worrying Ekbeth. Toshio will manage without them if I don’t have a choice. Now, will you please go rest yourself? At least a few hours? I can certainly take over for you in the meantime.”

  He shook his head. “Can’t. We have a Council in a few minutes. To discuss the urgent decisions that need to be made.”

  “Can no one replace you?”

  “No. One of those decisions will be about lifting the ban on Akalabeth and her family. Then how fast we can assess the stability of the remaining houses. No one dares sleep inside the houses anymore. Then we have to decide what to do with our dead.”

  Ekbeth went on to explain the choices and Shona realized the horror of the situation. Then she asked, “And the new Aramalinyia? Are you not going to choose a new Aramalinyia?”

  He made a strangled sound in his throat upon hearing her question. Something between a laugh and shock.

  “What? What did I say?”

  He shook his head, a strange smile on his lips. “Kimiel. You are the new Aramalinyia. The Goddess has made her will clear to all when she spoke through you!”

  What? This had to be a joke!

  Believe it, child. I told you I had plans for you, didn’t I? I wish the circumstances were different, though. I was not expecting Pes’almari, your predecessor, to die for at least another ten years. That would have given you time to get used to our traditions.

  Shona snorted. She very much doubted she would ever get used to the As’mirin ways. There were so many things she found inacceptable, like the state of the city streets to start with.

  Indeed. Well, now, you can do something about it. Remember, your decisions are law from now on.

  Had the Goddess gone mad? Putting the fate of all those people in her hands! When she had shown time and time again she made wrong decisions…

  Her back grew warm. Oh, of course, the Goddess was going to keep a tight control on her. Perhaps for the first time, Shona was quite happy about that.

  Others will help you, as well. This new beginning is going to be a difficult time for you, child. You’ll have to attend all the funerals, for a start, and that will remind you of other losses. I know what I’m asking of you, but remember—you’re not alone in this. You’ll never be.

  The sheer immensity of what was expected of her was slowly dawning on Shona. It was not only the funerals. Il was the lives of a few thousand people the Goddess was asking her to take care of.

  She started to panic. Still, refusing the position was probably not an option.

  Indeed not.

  Shona sighed. Well, if it was the Goddess’s will…

  Don’t complain about the consequences, though.

  Agreed.

  When she focused her attention again on Ekbeth, Shona realized everyone had stopped talking and was looking at her, most of them with their mouths open.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Ekbeth seemed amused more than anything. He whispered to her, “You are glowing, Kimiel.”

  Oh damn! Her skin was, indeed, showing that blue tinge again.

  That way, no one will ever doubt I am speaking through you.

  Shona sighed. Walking around as embodied neon was not her idea of fun, but then, the Goddess was probably not going to leave her any choice on that matter either.

  She looked at Ekbeth. “Looks like I don’t have any say in the matter. Where do I sit during the High Councils?”

  60

  The silence in the car was a blessing. There had been too much noise around them lately. Too much stress. All the decisions to be made. The complaints. The funerals.

  Above all, the funerals. The past month had been a time of sorrow for the whole community.

  Every family still living in the Valley had lost some of their members. Three of them had even lost their Akeneires’el. The only exception was, of course, the McLean family, but, then, they had not been in the Valley at all when the crater wall collapsed.

  Ekbeth had said farewell to seven members of his family and had lost count of how many funerals he had attended in total. And, even though he sometimes managed to forget the sorrow, the ruins that once were the left side of Kse’Annilis were a constant reminder of the catastrophe that had hit the community. Whenever Ekbeth looked in that direction he felt like crying. They would never be able to reconstruct their city to its former state.

  Most As’mirin still refused to go to their houses to eat or sleep. They were just living in the Temple, in the open. And prayed a lot. For Ara’s forgiveness. As for him, he was just too exhausted at the end of the day to join them. Besides organizing the funerals, attending to them, and supervising the daily routine of his household, he had to keep track of his bank business on the Other Side. Even with Lyrian’s increasing help, he barely managed the deadlines.

  Not all the most recent news was bad, though. Akalabeth was now reinstated as a full member of the As’mirin community. She was spending her time between her husband’s village and Kse’Annilis, and both remaining members of the Na Liom family seemed happy.

  As’leandra and Najeb were openly living together.

  And there was a new energy buzzing in the community, as if the landslide had been a much-needed wake-up call to a society that had been half asleep up until then. The budget request pile on Ekbeth’s desk had tripled in size, but this time it was not to annoy him—it comprised serious, concrete, improvement projects.

  Many of the requisitions were not carefully thought out, so Ekbeth would return the claim to the requestor with a few suggestions. Sometimes, two people had the same idea, and he would then ask them to work together.

  The selected projects he submitted to Kimiel.

  He sighed, and looked at the woman that was now resting her head against his shoulder in the car as they returned from dinner at a fine restaurant in Zurich on the Other Side. Discovering she was the new Aramalinyia had certainly been a shock to her, but she had recovered amazingly quickly from it. She had immediately started to sit at the daily High Councils, making decisions and giving advice.

  It surprised no one that she proved to be nothing like their former Aramalinyia. In fact, most of her decisions were in total disagreement with her predecessor’s. She was also not prone to compromises. She had overruled a few Akeneires’elin’s decisions already, and harshly.

  But it was obvious to everyone she had the best in mind for the community. And that she was open to radical change—something the previous Aramalinyia had certainly not been. And if a protest was ever raised against her at the Council table, the slight glow of her skin reminded them immediately who she was.

  Ekbeth was worried about her. Kimiel kept reas
suring him she was fine, but the rings under her eyes were telling a different story—as were the violent moves he felt under his hands on her belly every time they were able to share a bed. She was now well into her sixth month of pregnancy.

  As she was not reasonable when in Kse’Annilis, Ekbeth enticed Kimiel to the Other Side as often as possible by treating her to spectacular shows or meals at elegant restaurants around the world, after which, to be sure she received enough rest, he insisted on a good night’s sleep at the nearest of his apartments.

  Those excursions were their privileged time, during which no one was authorized to bother them. Of course, there was some security. It could not be otherwise. She was too important. But Kalem was doing his best to make it as invisible as possible.

  The car turned into the entrance path to his house. She opened her eyes.

  Their eyes met, and Ekbeth gave her a guarded smile. He was getting used to her presence at his side.

  Love? It was far too early to speak of love between them. It seemed so long ago, sometimes, but only two months had gone since Ara’s trial. He only hoped their fragile truce would hold a few more years.

  The driver put the car in the garage. Kimiel get out of the vehicle, and walked directly towards the lift. “And thinking that I once thought it a toy for lazy fatsos! I’m really glad it exists right now!”

  He smiled. “Go ahead. I need to discuss something with Kalem.”

  She shook her head. “Work. Always work. Don’t linger too much, Ekbeth, or you’re going to miss a lot of fun.”

  He was shaking his head when the lift door closed behind her. Lately, the “fun” had been limited. They just did not feel like it, either of them. Sorrow, exhaustion, pregnancy… She would probably be asleep by the time he got to bed, no matter how fast he managed to finish his work!

  He had just reached Kalem’s office, when a loud explosion of glass reverberated through the house. Ekbeth and Kalem immediately looked up. It had come from the second floor. They both rushed towards the stairs.

  “Kimiel!”

  The main room was still in the dark when they entered it. In the dark, and terribly cold. Kalem switched on the lights. The whole window overlooking Lake Zurich now lay shattered in tiny pieces on the floor. This explained the cold.

  “Kimiel?”

  They found her behind the sofa. Crouched. Her hands pressed against her heart.

  Trying to prevent blood from draining out of her body. Already unconscious.

  Kalem was the first to react. He took his jacket off and gave it to Ekbeth. “Press it against her wound. I’m getting some help!”

  Ekbeth mindlessly obeyed. Kalem returned after what seemed to Ekbeth to be an eternity—enough time for Ekbeth to get over the worst of his shock and come to his senses. “It’s going to take too much time, Kalem! We should bring her to the Valley!”

  “I’ve Called Erinani and Bers’el na Saoilcheach, Akeneires’el. They should be here anytime now. Let them decide!”

  Erinani was there shortly afterwards, with two other Na Saoilcheachs.

  She looked at the wound and her face was grim. Ekbeth refused to admit there was no hope. “You saved Kalem, Erinani! You can save her!”

  She shook her head. “I told you bringing Kalem to me had been a mistake. This is worse. This looks like a direct hit, a bullet in the heart, Akeneires’el. I’m not good with bullet wounds. I never thought I would have to operate on one. She needs modern equipment for this kind of wound. Monitoring. Blood transfusions.”

  Bers’el appeared next to her. “And no anesthetics! Those would kill her even surer that the loss of blood.”

  Erinani and Bers’el looked at each other for a second. The fat Na Saoilcheach asked for a phone. Kalem handed him his, and Bers’el started making calls. In the meantime, Erinani was examining Kimiel, while trying to evaluate, Ekbeth imagined, how serious the loss of blood was.

  Bers’el closed the phone. “Let’s go. They will have a team ready within three minutes, they promised me.”

  Ekbeth could only stutter, “Where are you taking her?”

  “To the University Hospital. I would not dare a longer transfer. She’s already too weak.”

  The old man put a hand on Ekbeth’s shoulder, and forced him to look at him. “We’ll do our best, Ekbeth, but don’t expect miracles. It is as bad as it looks!”

  Both doctors disappeared, along with Kimiel. Leaving a huge puddle of blood behind.

  Kalem was talking to him, Ekbeth realized. Telling him the driver had taken the car out again, and was going to bring him to the hospital. Kalem was going to call the police.

  Ekbeth nodded and allowed Kalem to assist him into the car.

  *

  Minutes became hours and, too soon, the first rays of day chased the darkness of the night away.

  Ekbeth had been seated, silently, on this plastic chair since the nurse had welcomed him, explaining that his wife was in the hands of their best surgeon and all they had to do now was wait until the team came out of the operating room.

  At some point in time, Alyasini and Najeb had joined him. Even Lyrian. But they respected his silence, and sat expectantly next to him.

  The reality was slowly dawning on him. Someone has shot Kimiel. Why? How? Those were the two first questions that came to his mind. The how would be for Kalem and his son to answer. He had to admit he did not have the slightest idea about the why. Kimiel had been so damn secretive about her past. He knew she had enemies, but which of them had wanted her dead?

  The worst thing that could happen was that she had been shot because of him.

  But the most pressing matter for now was whether she was going to survive the ordeal.

  She was their Aramalinyia.

  She was his woman.

  She could not die.

  He only had to close his eyes: that puddle of blood on the carpet came immediately to his mind. Funny how you discover how much you care about someone only after they disappeared from your life.

  “Mr. Na Duibhne?” A man in green scrubs was addressing him. He looked exhausted, and, if not for the color of his garb, Ekbeth might have taken him for a butcher at the sight of his blood-soaked clothes.

  The surgeon was drying his hands on a towel. Ekbeth guessed the truth before the other man even started talking. “I’m really sorry. We’ve done our best, but the bullet hit the heart, as you know. It stopped four times during our intervention, and the fourth time, there was nothing we could do to make it start again.”

  Small cries of dismay rose around them. A woman started crying, or was it Najeb?

  Ekbeth knew he had to say something. He was only feeling hollowness.

  The surgeon made another step towards him. “We’ve been able to save the baby, though.”

  Ekbeth had to admit he had forgotten all about the baby in the last hours. “Where is she?”

  The surgeon was taken aback. “I’m afraid we can’t allow you to see the body yet. We are still stitch…”

  “I mean my daughter. Where’s the baby?”

  “Oh, sorry. We’ve put her in an incubator, had to, she’s such a tiny thing. She’ll need some intensive care in the next weeks, but I think she’ll make it all right in the end. She’s been responding fantastically to all our tests.”

  “Can I see her?”

  “I’ll ask a nurse to bring you there. Please accept my deepest sympathy for your tragedy.”

  Ekbeth only nodded. He knew the man had done his best, even though it had not been enough.

  He went to his daughter. The baby was placed in a glass box, seemingly deep asleep. She looked so tiny and vulnerable in there.

  He put his hands on the glass, trying to send reassurance to this little bit of himself through the panel, like he had done so many times recently, on Kimiel’s belly.

  The baby moved slightly. It was just not the same. This was so wrong! She needed her mother.

  He could not handle that responsibility on his own! He could not handle the
whole community on his own!

  Despair replaced the emptiness inside him. Without really realizing it, he started crying bitter tears.

  61

  Somewhere and nowhere.

  “Where am I?”

  You died, child.

  “What? It can’t be!”

  I did not foresee it myself, but it is as it is.

  “I can’t be dead and talk to you. I was on the Other Side.”

  You are dear to me. I made an exception and collected your soul on the Other Side. Now…

  “I don’t want to choose. I did not want to die.”

  Almost no one welcomes that moment, child, but losing your physical body is part of the cycle. Not so long ago, you’d have welcomed the choice.

  “Not anymore. I still need to find my son. There was that baby to be born. The future of Kse’Annilis! You said it yourself—you did not foresee it. It was that bastard, wasn’t it? He hired a hit man to bring me down. I should have expected it.”

  Silence.

  “Goddess, you owe me a favor.”

  Silence.

  What you have in mind is not possible.

  “I don’t believe you. You created the As’mirin, didn’t you?”

  An eternity of silence.

  It will take time.

  “I’m not going anywhere. And this time, less tattoos, please.”

  62

  “Here you are, Ekbeth! Do you really have to spend every hour of the day in the neonatology ward?”

  He recognized the woman’s voice and did not look up. That little bundle in his arms was so fragile that he did not dare move for fear of hurting her.

  He just said: “She has no mother left, Sally. It’s the least I can do to be with her as much as possible.”

  Sarah-Lysliana came to stand next to him and peered over his shoulder. “She’s really a sweet thing! She’s grown since the last time I visited. Relax, Ekbeth. She’s not going to break.”

  He shook his head. “Look at her. She’s so tiny! I’m not sure I’m ready for fatherhood, Sally.”

  Sarah-Lysliana put her hand on his shoulder. “You’re going to be the best father ever, Ekbeth. See it as an extra dimension of your Akeneires’el’s role. You take care of people. You’ll take care of her just the same.”