Page 107 of The Gilded Ones

She tsks. “You never did have much awareness of your surroundings, Deka. You should work on that in the future, if we survive this.”

“Adwapa?” I gasp, running over and embracing her. “What are you doing here?”

She squeezes me tightly, then sets me down. “Waiting for you,” she says. “We were sent here to serve as your guards.”

Now I see the other alaki and deathshrieks standing behind her. There’s an entire contingent of them, and Asha is here too. She gives me a quick wave and smile.

I return the gesture, then hurry towards the entrance behind Adwapa. “But how?” I ask, shocked. “Why?”

She turns to me with a shrug. “The Nibari have always worshipped the Gilded Ones. Even after the Death Mandate, we held fast to our beliefs. My sister and I have been waiting for this moment all our lives.”

When Asha nods solemnly, I finally realize: they deliberately got themselves sent to the Warthu Bera. They didn’t have to reveal themselves as alaki. Priests don’t live with the Nibari, finding them too heathenish a people to deal with. They only travel to the desert twice yearly, to perform the Ritual of Purity. The twins could have hidden themselves their entire lives if they’d wanted to, but they didn’t want to.

That’s why they always seemed so at ease during training, running faster and fighting better than all the rest of us, why they always seemed a little older, a little wiser, even when they acted immature.

Because they’re older – much, much older. “Adwapa?” I rasp, “are you one of the Firstborn?”

She bursts out laughing. “The Firstborn? No, not at all – my sister and I are only three hundred years old.”

“Three hundred…” I echo, stunned. “And what about—”

“Explanations later,” Adwapa says, abruptly stopping.

We’re in the entry hall of the temple now, and are staring into the face of the unknown. Dark corridors extend into the darkness, leading infinity knows where. My hands tremble at the thought.

“The emperor is already somewhere down there,” Adwapa informs me.

“I know,” I reply. “I saw the zerizards.” I knew why I hadn’t seen the emperor on the battlefield. It was because he was up here, waiting for me.

“He’s not the only one who’s there, though,” Adwapa says, a worried expression surfacing in her eyes. “Keita is inside as well.”

Everything inside me stills. “Keita?”

Adwapa nods. “The emperor caught him when he returned from delivering you to the lake. It’s likely bad, Deka. You need to prepare yourself.”

The interior of the temple is musty, quiet. Black columns rise above us, images of the Gilded Ones embedded in them. There they are, the wise Southerner, gentle Northerner, warlike Easterner, and motherly Westerner, all conquering monsters, battling rebels, raising the walls of Hemaira. In each and every carving, they’re much larger than the humans – giants, in fact.

I wonder if they’re the same in real life. There are so many things I wonder, and perhaps if I wonder long enough, I won’t have to think of Keita at the mercy of the emperor, won’t have to acknowledge the overwhelming terror weighing down my body.

I continue staring at the carvings, the goddesses sitting on four regal thrones, looking gently down at the much-smaller humans. Alaki and jatu surround them, their armour distinct compared with the robes of the regular humans and the priests. Those priests depicted on the carvings are joined by something I’ve never thought of before – something I’ve never even imagined.

Priestesses.

Column after column shows different women doing things – being things – I’ve never dreamed possible: priests, elders, scribes, all the things men are. My anger builds as I realize how thoroughly my mind has been poisoned that I would be shocked to see women in these positions. I breathe out trying to calm myself. I have to be prepared to meet the emperor.

He’s just there, at the end of the hall, where dim light spills from a hidden chamber. And Keita too is there.

An arm touches mine, and I nearly jump. “You all right?” Adwapa asks.

I nod.

“You can’t let down your guard, Deka, not here.”

Not with the fate of the goddesses at stake – not to mention Keita. I silently finish Adwapa’s sentence. “I won’t,” I say, palming both my atikas. I was given two for the occasion. “I’m prepared.”

“All you have to do is free the goddesses,” Adwapa reminds me. “Just free them. The others and I will take care of the rest. We’ll protect Keita.”

I nod again. I know my task.

---