Page 31 of The Gilded Ones

“Wha is it?” Britta whispers back.

“Deathshrieks,” I whisper. “They’re here.”

“Wha do ye mean, here?”

As Britta glances around, panicked, Karmoko Thandiwe walks towards us, her eyes stern. “You have all heard of deathshrieks, yes?”

Around me, the girls nod their heads.

“Have any of you encountered them before?” When the girls nod timidly again, Karmoko Thandiwe bellows, “Open your mouths and use your tongues! The correct response is ‘Yes, Karmoko!’”

I nearly jump out of my skin, her voice is so powerful. I’ve never heard a woman speak like that, never heard such authority coming from a female throat. My heart beats even faster as I reply along with the others. “Yes, Karmoko,” I gasp, my throat raw.

“Louder!” she commands.

“Yes, Karmoko!”

“Better.” She nods. She glances at the girls who answered yes. “Consider yourselves most fortunate to have encountered such monstrosities and survived. For the rest of you, allow me to even the score.”

Even the score? What score?

Karmoko Thandiwe gestures, and the older girls march towards us, footsteps steady and sure.

“Step back, neophytes!” the one at the front, a short, slim girl with the black hair and light-brown skin of the mid-Eastern provinces, calls. She has a jagged scar all the way down the side of her cheek, old but harshly puckered. Another one who hasn’t experienced a recent death. “Move back! Move back!” she shouts.

I hurriedly do as I’m told, shuffling backwards until soon I’m at the very edges of the room with the other neophytes. The older girls spread into a single line before us – a barrier, keeping us firmly in place.

By now, my palms are sweating, and my heart is beating so fast, it feels like it’ll leap out of my chest. They can’t really mean to bring deathshrieks here, can they? I thought Captain Kelechi said we would encounter them on the raids. What if those monsters escape – attack us the way the ones in Irfut did? What if I react the same way I did before, my eyes changing colour, that demonic voice emerging from my throat?

I whimper, the thought of everyone witnessing it almost too much to bear.

Who knows what the karmokos would do to someone like me – someone with abilities beyond what is common for an ordinary alaki.

I swallow back the thought as Karmoko Thandiwe gestures to Matron Nasra, and the matron presses a small, circular metal structure in the wall. A low rumbling rises as the floor slides apart, revealing a dark subterranean cave, a stone staircase leading to a group of iron cages arranged in its centre. Muffled, inhuman grunts sound from those cages, mist clouding around them. My entire body stills, my fears now confirmed. There are deathshrieks underneath the Warthu Bera, and the karmokos intend to bring them up.

The scarred girl walks with a group of the older girls down the stairs, heading towards the largest cage, where an ominous sound rises: the rattling of chains. Sharp, predatory black eyes gleam inside the cage, the outline of a gaunt, gigantic figure barely visible in the shadows. A deathshriek, chains binding it.

My heart hammers, teeth clench, sweat pours rivers down my back.

Britta shifts closer to me. “It’s all right, Deka,” she whispers, “I’m right here.”

I nod, inhale deeply for courage as I return my attention to what’s happening in the cavern below. The deathshriek still hasn’t come out, and the scarred girl is getting impatient.

“Get it out,” she commands the others.

They quickly do as they’re told, a tall, dark-skinned girl darting forwards and opening the cage door while the others wait, swords drawn. Strangely, the deathshriek makes no movement. What is it doing? Why is it just standing there? My muscles go taut from the tension.

Finally, the scarred girl has had enough. She darts inside the cage, tugs at one of the deathshriek’s chains.

With a muffled howl of outrage, the deathshriek lunges for her, the quills in its pale silver fur a whirlwind of motion, black eyes slitted with fury. But the scarred girl and the others don’t jerk back or flee. Instead, they grab its chains, then use inhuman strength to force it up the stairs until it’s just before Karmoko Thandiwe, who casually flips it to the ground, then slams her foot into its throat, pressing harder and harder until it slumps unconscious.

The blood roars in my ears.

Astonishment has taken me by the throat, so it’s some minutes before I remember how close that deathshriek is, remember what can happen when I’m in the presence of one.

I turn to Britta, alarmed. “Is there anything wrong with my eyes?” I ask.

She peers down at me, frowns. “No, is there supposed to be?”

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