Page 119 of Ashes of Gold
“Jelani? What do we do?” Rojala holds Zora’s hand.
“Uh…” Why is the world this way? I hate it here. I blow out a breath, latching on to the urgency at hand. I blink, trying to wish away the grief, bury it, but there’s so much that’s built; it’s like a gray cloud promising a hard rain.
“Y-you stay in here.” I swallow, getting my bearings. “And stand guard over her.” I can see the “but” in her eyes. But she nods, and Julius and I shut them inside. The world rumbles, shouting rings through the air.
Zora…I say her name, carrying her with me in every step.
I pull Julius to me. “Find Bri. Collect onyx.” He’s off, and I shovemy way through bodies to get a glimpse of the situation. Patrolmen pour through the hole in the ceiling. Some in plain clothes, Loyalists, and others in slick uniforms with the Ghizoni emblem on their chest. No sign of the Chancellor. Yet.
One leaps from the last rung of the ladder, aiming his hands to fire magic at Joshi. He thrusts, but nothing happens. Joshi’s ready. The Loyalist glares at his own wrist, thrusting his hands again in utter confusion. Joshi swings a chunk of metal and it slaps his head with asmack.
“Their wrists!” I shout at Joshi as bodies jostle me around. “The onyx on their…”
But Joshi’s moved on, fighting off two Patrol who caught him off guard. I dash over, grabbing the Loyalist’s limp legs. I drag him, searching for a spot to pull him aside when something slams into my back.
It’s a tall fighter with a knot on her head, her right shoulder bared. Yakanna. I see Zora’s face in my mind. And Doile’s. My insides pang. She swipes at the men funneling through the tunnel, each dropping like flies. She swings, pivots, then jabs. And where there was one Patrol on the ground, lie three.
“Y-you came?” I say.
Her chin falls. “Zora told us everything before…” She pulls me to her, bringing her blade down hard behind me. Someone grunts before collapsing on the ground. “Go. Do whatever is needed. The Yakanna stand with you, Jelani.” There’s a note of sadness in her voice, but thirst for vengeance burns behind each syllable.
“For Zora,” I say, setting a hand on her bare shoulder.
“For Zora.”
I plow through the masses, dodging, throwing blows. The Chancellor’s men are completely caught off guard without access to magic. My foot bumps a curved blade and I scoop it up. I look for the Beerchi who dropped it but spot none. Something shoves into me and I turn, blade up and ready. I swipe. The Loyalist sidesteps and I miss. I raise the handle again, bringing it down hard, and red splatters my shoes. He holds the place his nose just was, shrieking, and I move on to the next.
The ceiling door opens and light from outside pours in. A head peeps in, then he closes it. A blade dents my view; a lanky Patrolman hovers over me, a dagger clutched in his hand.
He’s armed. They know.
The clang of metal tears at my ears, and I realize several of the last Patrol to come through carry weapons of some sort. They’ve caught on.But how? No one that’s come in has made it back out. Unless…
Kai.
So that’s why she was down here a moment ago. To tip off the Chancellor.
I grit my teeth and my blood runs hot. Patrol swings and I duck, metal whooshing over my head. Light on my feet, I bob and weave between his blows. He swipes and I slide aside into someone or something and it shoves me back. He pivots, panting. I’m wearing him down. He charges at me once more, and I hook an arm around him, using his momentum to shove him to the ground. His head bobs. I snatch his weapon and pop him in the head with it.
I drag him to the other Patrol, who’s still out like a light. Two bodies, four beads of onyx. I need to get them out of this corridor and try to get this onyx out. I tug on both bodies, but it’s like tryingto drag a sack of bricks. I finagle one into a side room and hurry back for the other, but he’s gone.Shit!
“I got it!!” Joshi shouts from somewhere, holding up a black ball.
“Toss it over here,” Julius shouts. The bloody ball of onyx flies from Joshi’s fingers through the air and Julius’s gadget cups it like a catcher’s mitt. A flicker of joy tugs at me but I bury it. It’s too early to assume the best.
“There she is,” someone shouts, and I hold my fists up, tucking my chin, ready. I look for who said it, but the corridor is a chaotic crash of bodies and metal. Blood splatters the walls and dust makes my throat itch. I blink and a figure at the end of the hall looms, staring. I blink again and his face is clearer through the haze. Broad shoulders, gold breastplate against smooth ebony smooth skin.
Jhamal.
He stares, unmoving, and emotions rush through me like waves, an expanse of chaos filling the space between us in more ways than one. The Seer’s face and Zora’s body float through my mind. So do he and Kai. I see him holding the potion to my lips. Everything in me that just felt strong, fractures. How does he do this to me? I part my lips to speak, but a tangle of armor obstructs my view, and just like that he’s gone. And as much as I hate it… a piece of me I’ll never get back goes with him.
My spine pinches in pain.
“Jelani, watch out!”
I hold my side. My pants are ripped and swelling with red. I lower my waistband and find my skin split.
Thankfully, the wound is not deep. I pull out the jar of minty paste and rub the remnants on the wound. It tingles, and wherethere was just red is smooth brown skin again. I rush down the corridor, wedging myself in the maze of people. Gray skin is in a heap on the ground, tangled around brown limbs. My insides quake with sadness, but I tuck my lip and keep going. I mutter a prayer to the Ancestors as I pass my fallen brothers and sisters. I will come back and bury them all with my two hands. Every last one of them.
