Page 102 of The Merciless Ones

“Britta,” I begin, but Li walks over to her, holds out his hand.

“I’ve got you,” he says in low, soothing tones. “I won’t let anything happen to you. And neither would Deka, you know that.”

A strange feeling washes over me when Britta looks down at Li’s hand, then up at him. When she takes it, I finally realize what I’m feeling: sadness. I’m no longer Britta’s one and only.

For so long, it was just me and her. And Keita, of course. Now, however, there’s also Li.

I can see it in her eyes when she stares up at him. “Promise?”

Li nods. “Promise.”

She allows him to tug her forwards.

As they walk over to the Ababa together, Keita moves in front of me. “Hurry, Deka,” he says. “We have to wake the mothers.”

Whatever our feelings about them, we can’t allow them to sleep while the Idugu destroy their home and everyone in it. “I’m coming,” I say. We climb up the Ababa’s back together, and a low rumble echoes through the air as the colossal reptile pushes off from the shore.

“Oh, there goes me belly,” Britta says, clutching her stomach as the Ababa begins its swim. “Is this a bad time to mention I’m on me menses again?” When Belcalis whirls to her, indignant, she shrugs. “Wha? I can’t help that they’re regular!”

I shake my head, a bit of my tension dissipating, but nowhere near enough of it to make a difference – not that I’d expect it to. My thoughts are barraging me full force now as the Ababa glides across the water. Everything we’re up against is flashing all at once.

The Idugu are here with their army, but the mothers may be too deeply asleep to notice. And even though we’re trying to ensure that they’re awake, the water bridge didn’t rise. Didn’t acknowledge us as loyal to the mothers. All because we questioned – asked more about the mothers than they wanted us to know. And now, we’re on our way to wake them, even though they might not be happy that we’re the ones who are doing so. That I’m the one who is doing so.

Just the thought fills me with dread. But I have no choice. I’m only one girl. I can’t stand against the Idugu. I can’t protect the entirety of Abeya with only my friends to stand with me.

The Ababa takes us to the other side of the lake in a matter of minutes. The whole time, the drums are sounding, and more and more alaki are appearing – all of them racing for battle stations, as they were trained to do.

Once we’ve safely arrived, I slide down from the Ababa’s nose, then glance up at it. “Thank you for helping us,” I say.

It snuffles another warm, wet breath, then slides back into the water, gone with barely more than a ripple. I turn to the others, tension thrumming through me as I command: “Keita, Adwapa and Asha, go inform the generals of what’s happening, then bring them to the Chamber of the Goddesses.”

The trio nods. Keita squeezes my hand before he goes. “Be safe, Deka?”

“Always,” I reply, kissing his cheek.

And then he’s gone.

I turn to the others. “Belcalis, you and the boys wake everyone.”

They quickly rush to their task.

Britta, Katya and the other deathshrieks are the only ones left now, and I nod to them. “Britta, you and the rest see to the safety of the humans. I don’t want them lost or forgotten in the chaos.”

Britta nods. “Of course, we’ll ensure it.” Then she stills. “Will ye be safe, Deka? Ye don’t have to go alone.”

I nod. “I’m not alone. Take my heart with you,” I say, a reminder.

She nods. “You do the same,” she whispers, squeezing my hand.

And then she’s gone.

The temple’s central courtyard is a mass of sound and panic when I enter – alaki racing to and fro, equus equipping themselves with their assegai, those long spears they and the jatu prefer to use in battle. Even the deathshrieks are armouring up, swiftly covering the softer parts of their bodies in infernal armour, bled for by their alaki sisters. The drums are sounding even louder now, each pattern of beats a command telling soldiers where they need to station themselves. Everyone else, the human civilians especially, is rushing to the shelters we have prepared in case of attack. A few are scattered around the mountains, and some even further still, in the desert surrounding the N’Oyos, in case of this very eventuality. White Hands has always made sure we have contingency plan upon contingency plan in case Abeya ever falls.

Two familiar gleaming white forms gallop towards me, their bodies glistening in the darkness: Braima and Masaima, assegai and shields in hand. “Nuru, they say the true jatu are attacking,” Masaima announces.

His brother nods, the black stripe in his forelocks shaking with emphasis. “Lots of soldiers headed here.”

“I know,” I tell them. “I’m going to go wake the mothers.”

---