Page 82 of Wings of Ebony
Bati clears his throat. “Aasim, if you would, light please?”
“I-I’m not able to… uh.”
Despite the darkness, I can see Bati’s eyes turn Aasim’s way. “Oh, oh okay. Not to worry.” A flash of light sparks and weak flames dance from Bati’s fingers to stone bowls hanging over head. Aasim fidgets, tossing me a glance.
Why couldn’t he conjure a fire? He didn’t fire back at the General either when he was chasing us. Is his magic weakened too? But he has onyx…
The walls of the room are covered in shelves on one side, lined with tomes with spines inlaid with gold. Symbols I don’t understand are etched into their edges.
“Our history,” Bati says. “Or what I’ve been able to record of it since being holed up here.”
I slide one off the shelf and the leather is dry in my grip.
“Spells, elixirs, the bones of our language… it’s all in there.” The spell book we got in training was pencil thin. There were more pages of instructions and restrictions than actual incantations. How much does the Chancellor even know about the magic he stole? The paper is gravelly against my fingers. “Could I take a closer look at this please? Hold on to it for a bit?”
“Yes, of course, Jelani,” Bati says, and I catch Aasim’s smile.
The other side of the room is covered in markings carved into the stonework, but in neat clusters, like parts of a story being pieced together.
“These are the pieces of our history we are still putting together,” Aasim says. “Done by your ancestors. Yiyo was a sacred meeting place for them.”
My ancestors? But I’m not Ghizoni. I mean, not really.
In the center of the room is a single box on a pedestal I only just noticed. “The cuff’s pair… i-is it in there?”
“It is.” Bati steps back almost reverently, and suddenly my hands are shaking. It’s so, so hot again.
“Go ahead,” he says. “Please, open it.”
“O-okay.” I hand off the tome and smooth my sweaty palms clean. I can sense its warmth from just touching the box. It creaks open, and a golden cuff stares back at me. I hold the other beside it. Twins. Identical.
“Why didn’t you keep both here?” I ask.
“Aasim stumbled on evidence the Chancellor knew the cuffs might be more than folklore. He was trying to find them, so Aasim warned us.” He makes a gesture of thanks toward Aasim. “We agreed it would be wise to separate them for safety. So he stored one in the human world where he met your mother, I gather.”
Aasim nods, a soft smile on his lips.
“The other stayed here, with us.” Bati steps closer to me and scents of earthiness swirl in my nose. “They were made to be a sort of fail-safe… for protection. With everyone fleeing, the Elders didn’t want us overcome, our magic lost forever. We were already weak. The wisest, most practiced minds of magic in our village imbued those two cuffs with every wisp of their combined power.” He beams. “I can’t even fathom the unshakable power these things have.”
A chill washes over me. “What do they want to say, you think?”
“I could guess, but that remains to be seen. Put them on, child.”
I slip them on my wrists and the whispers are louder than they’ve ever been. Aasim starts saying something, but Bati’s hand silences him. The gold metal calls to me like a longtime friend.
I’m listening.
Firelight dances on the cuffs’ surfaces and their swirly patterns twist and shift before my very eyes. I gasp. The patterns coil and shift again, writhing like they’re agitated, unsettled.
“D-do you see that?” I ask Aasim. His eyes grow wide. He can see it. Thank goodness, I was beginning to think I was losing it.
“What’s it saying?” Bati asks. “What do you hear now?”
“Uhhm, I don’t know.” I close my eyes, focusing on the whispers, straining to make sense of them.
O’yatsa ki’nyokoo.
“I can’t…”
