Page 81 of Wings of Ebony
“That was nice.”
“Nice, but foolish. We had peace, trade even, with the other tribes for a time. Until one day the Chancellor showed up from the Moyechi tribe, known for their craftiness and ambition, saying he’d grown up hearing about our majestic people and wanted to see us himself. He could see the Sickness was eating our people away from the inside, stifling our magic, like a poison in our blood. It was nosecret at that point we were weak. He offered us unification under him as Chancellor, saying he’d unearthed his own magic and would gift it to all who followed him.” He gestures at both Aasim’s wrist and mine. “He flashed those black beads on the insides of his wrists.” He scowls. “I overheard my father tell my mother that very night how the Chancellor’s eyes glittered with dark ambition, the kind that festers like rot in the bones. The Elders of our tribe knew we were the only ones marked with magic, so if the Chancellor boasted of magic… he was either a liar or a thief.
“We fled here. As many of us who could, that is. Many were too old, too sick. The Sickness had cut our tribe in half in just a few moons. The village Elders stayed behind and filled those cuffs with their collective power. I was but a boy when my father handed them off to me, told me to run like my life depended on it and make sure those cuffs make it here. He said no one would ever suspect a child to be carrying something so valuable. I ran faster than I knew my feet could go. The smattering that did make it here used the remnants of magic they had left to enchant that wall you passed through. That took a toll on everyone, weakened us even more.”
“Th-the Sickness? Wh-where did it come from?”
“I don’t know. But I do know from the moment the Grays knew of the power we possessed, their eyes dazzled with envy.”
Grays?
“People in New Ghizon,” Aasim whispers to me, apparently sensing my confusion. “And I have my own theories.”
“The Chancellor?” I ask.
“The Chancellor was ambitious, my father told me,” Aasim says. “He started showing people what he could do with the blackstones fused to his wrists, telling them to follow him and he would share. Our people were taken with sudden Sickness, dying out, and coincidentally he’s full of magic to give?Pfft.I’m not naive. That is no coincidence.” He looks away. “Besides, my grandfather never trusted him.”
“Oh?”
Sadness shadows his stare. “That is definitely a story we will save for another day.”
My mind is blown. The Chancellor united the entire island around this lie. He sits up in his high office in New Ghizon living and breathing this lie. He condemnsmysister to death for outing something that doesn’t even belong to him.
“And everyone from Ghizon with brown skin has some remnants of this raw magic?” I ask.
“It is very weak, but yes,” Bati says. “You have it too. You must only reach it. Lean into it. Let it be a part of you.”
I don’t know what kind of magic hethinksI have because I’m technically related to Aasim. But I don’t feel anything. Besides my hip being seared alive by the cuff in my pocket the deeper we go into this cave. And I did try. I tried to reach for magic to save Brian. And nothing. My chest aches and images of blood spatter settle over me like a storm cloud.
“I-I don’t know what to say. That’s messed up that he’s out there living a lie and all these people are forced to live their truth in here. Hidden, tucked away.”
“I have a feeling it won’t be that way much longer.” Aasim gestures for me to catch up to Bati, who’s much faster over these narrow steps than either of us. He snakes us deeper into the mountainand for several moments we walk in silence. So much to digest.
Warmth swims through my wrists, up my arms, dancing with the sleeping heat in my bones. I turn the cuff in my hand around and around, the deeper we go. I squint into the metal’s radiance and my heart flutters. It has a message, something it wants me to hear. I can feel it.
We descend steeper steps and now everyone’s chilly but me. The staircase grows darker the deeper we go.
“Bati,” a voice echoes from above us, followed by hurried steps.
The messenger looks toward me, but past me to Bati. “Grays, sir. A large group has been spotted kilometers from here.”
“Mine workers?” Bati asks.
“I am not sure. The leader does not look like the mine worker type.”
“No, the mines are closed today.” I look between them, fear coiling in my gut.
“What does he look like?” Aasim asks.
“Well dressed, tall, cruel jaw, mark below his eye.”
The General. I dig my nails into the craggy wall. He’s back with more people. He’s really throwing all he’s got to come for me.
“He won’t be able to get back here, will he, Bati?” asks Aasim.
“Not as long as the enchantments hold,” he says before dismissing the messenger. “But let us hurry, see what the Ancestors are trying to tell Jelani. We may not have much time.” He ushers us back down the stairs, faster this time.
At the bottom of the staircase is an iron door. It clanks open with Bati’s wave and we step inside. Darkness, so thick I can’t see my hand in front of my face, lies on us like a blanket.
