Page 106 of The Merciless Ones

Across the other veil, Okot orients closer, his features thoughtful though erratic. He becomes more and more human by the millennium. That awful white shimmers inside him, but he, more than the other designated males, keeps it at bay.

“You seem concerned, Singular,” he opines.

That is the name they have given us. And just like that, another tendril of unease slithers. Before, there was no use for names. We were all, and we were one. Now we must be designated, must mark ourselves to show that we are separate.

Your conflict with the designated females will destroy this world. We have seen it, the threads of fate gathering in the cosmos.

Okot nods, another of his human mannerisms. “We have come to that conclusion as well. There is something growing inside me. Something strange.”

Madness… When the word whispers out of us, Okot sighs, the moody blues and whites of an ocean swell. Acceptance. Resignation.

“We know,” he says. “We have sensed it in ourselves and in the others. It grows like a sickness. We will not be able to withstand it much longer.”

Blues and oranges of uncertainty sprout, then wilt, inside us. The rainbow dies a swift and unnoticed death.

Unnoticed by all, that is, except Okot. He moves closer. “You are unsure of how to proceed against us. A decidedly human emotion, Singular.”

We vowed to remain neutral.

“You vowed to uphold the balance. That means keeping the humans safe. Like it or not, they are the most numerous of the intelligent beings in this world – a necessary evil.”

We allow ourself another sigh. So many vows. So many promises. But they are what give us shape – purpose is, after all, what defines us… We are not certain how to achieve one without the other, we finally say.

“Why not achieve both?” Okot orients closer. “You are more powerful than all of us combined now. Send us a solution. Send us an intermediary.”

You mean separate ourself as you have done? A mountain splits in response to the distaste we feel for this idea.

“No, Singular,” Okot says, staring at us with those unnervingly white eyes. “I mean fall to Otera, and once you are here, end our lives. That is the only way to prevent the threads you see from coalescing. We are a blight upon this world, and you must destroy us before we destroy it.”

A solitary drop of gold, falling…falling… But it’s not falling from the goddesses’ eyes; it’s falling from the sky. Falling from the cosmos.

Fall to Otera, and once you are here, end our lives. You must destroy us, Singular.

I gasp awake.

Etzli is pulling the atika out of her side when I return to full consciousness. There’s a crack on the ground where she fell, and so much ichor is gushing now, her skin is turning silver. It’s the same with all the other goddesses, silver tinging the gold covering them. They’re still fast asleep, but I have no doubt they can feel Etzli’s pain, her fear. She tries to move, but her body flaps about, a fish stranded on the riverbanks. I glance down at my atika, at the ichor still staining it as it lies on the floor. All that destruction from one small sword.

Only the gods can wound the gods. The words ring in my head. And now I know there’s truth to them, because I saw that golden drop falling, heard the words, the command, that formed my being. The command that has no doubt been repressed all this time by the mothers.

You must destroy us.

I know the truth now of what I am. I’m the Singular – or at least, part of me is. There has to be a reason I didn’t understand what I am, a reason I didn’t even know about the existence of the gods, and given what I’ve learned about the Gilded Ones and the Idugu, I know it must be because there are parts of me that are locked away so deeply, I can’t access them. For now, all I know is this: I’m no daughter of Etzli or any of the Gilded Ones, for that matter. I’m an entirely separate being. One that has the power to kill them all. And Etzli knows it.

I see the expression on her face, one I’ve never seen there before. It’s fear – a deep and overwhelming fear.

And it’s all because of me.

All this time, she and the others have been controlling me. Using me as one would a pet. Yet they knew I had power, that I was a creature that they feared.

Rage explodes across my being. “You lied,” I say, snatching up my atika and pointing it again. “All this time, you lied to me.”

I dart towards her, but by now, Etzli’s regained her composure. She gestures, and vines snap towards me, all hissing and screeching, those fleshy petals throbbing with awful gold veins. I jump out of the way, simultaneously sliding out my other atika, then I begin hacking at them, determined. I need to destroy those vines – root them out before they hurt anyone else.

Inhuman screeches sound as I slice through the vines over and over again. Soon they’re joined by cries of pain. Fear. To my surprise, they’re coming from Etzli: every time I stab the vines, she recoils as if she herself is being stabbed.

Comprehension widens my eyes: these vines are a part of her, an extension of her being.

“What are you doing, Deka?” she cries. “You’re hurting us – your own mothers!”

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