Page 108 of The Merciless Ones

Keita forces his eyes away from her. “Everything is as we feared, isn’t it?” he asks.

“Worse,” I say. “They’ve been eating male deathshrieks and who knows what else to gain power. They want the Idugu’s army to come so they can eat them, return to full power. That’s why the others are still asleep. Waiting to be fed.”

Keita’s eyes widen. Then swiftly narrow with determination. Dependable Keita, always taking things in his stride. “What’s the plan?”

“Prevent them from gaining full power. Destroy them.” I glance from Keita to Britta, smile sadly. “We who are dead, correct?”

Britta echoes my smile. “We might very well be in the next second, but I’m always here with ye, Deka,” she says, squeezing my hand.

“Me too,” Keita agrees, embracing me.

Around us, the others nod. Belcalis, Li, Acalan, the twins, who have reunited, along with Mehrut, Lamin, Kweku, Rian. All my family, my home. Because they all know, as I do, that this might be our last few moments together – that we might all die here, in this very chamber, or worse, be trapped like Melanis was in a pit somewhere, suffering for the rest of eternity – but even so, they’re prepared for it. Prepared to die or live with me, no matter the consequences.

Which is exactly why I must protect them.

I smile at my friends. A bittersweet expression showing my love, my gratitude. “Free the deathshrieks from Etzli’s vines,” I command for what may very well be the last time. “I’ll go battle the gods.”

When I walk up the stairs towards the dais, Etzli is still silvery and pale. All that power she drank from me, and she’s still weakened. So are the other goddesses, when I glance their way. Their statues are also covered by that silvery sheen. It seems that what happens to one truly does happen to the others. I can’t help but wonder how far that extends. If I kill Etzli, does that mean the other goddesses will die – all of them? I glance at Anok, who has been like a grandmother to me – a dear friend, even. She’s the one who set me on this path, showed me the truth hidden in the ansetha necklace, even though she surely knew it would end this way. And Beda – so gentle, it’s almost inconceivable that she would ever join Etzli in her madness. Can I truly kill them both?

The closer I get to Etzli’s throne, the more my uncertainty rises. If I kill the Gilded Ones and the Idugu also die as a result, what will happen to Otera? Visions of earthquakes, volcanoes, a thousand plagues flash through my mind, but I force them back. The consequences of my inaction would be far worse. If I do not kill the gods now, they’ll break the entire empire in their quest for power. I’ve already seen the lengths the Gilded Ones and the Idugu will go to in their game for dominance over each other. Who knows what lengths they’ll go to if they’re left to prey, unfettered, on the unsuspecting citizens of Otera.

I need to speak with Etzli now, have the conversation I should have had months ago – the conversation that will determine how I will manoeuvre next against the creatures who once professed themselves to be my kin.

When I arrive at her throne, the goddess is hunched over, her posture rigid with pain. Severing the ansetha necklace from myself must have done something to her, something deep and visceral that compounded the pain she experienced when I stabbed her. I can’t help but wonder if this is the first time she’s ever been physically hurt by anyone. It would make sense. All those years of imprisonment by the jatu, but the jatu never once actually managed to injure the goddesses. Only gods can injure gods, which may explain why Etzli clutches her side like a wounded animal, her expression venomous as I stop in front of her.

“Deka,” she hisses, “you dare to—”

“You lied to me,” I say, cutting her off mid-sentence. “You lied to everyone. All this time, you said you were benevolent, better than Oyomo. And yet, here you were, eating your own children!”

I point to the floor, where the ashes of those vines remain in distinctly deathshriek-shaped bundles. The others have freed the remaining deathshrieks from them. By now, they will be taking them out to the equus, who will lead them to sanctuaries off the mountain. But Etzli has said nothing about that. The fact that she didn’t try to stop them, that she hasn’t moved or spoken until now, when I’m standing before her, worries me. Etzli’s almost certainly planning something. I must remain alert, must wait until she reveals to me what it is.

The goddess’s jaw clenches, her expression mutinously human. “Their energy contains ichor,” she explains. “It is the most potent food source.”

She says the words so matter-of-factly. As if I’m the idiot for not being able to fathom such a thing. My brows gather. “You don’t see a problem with that? Killing your own children?”

“They would have given us that energy through worship eventually. I just quickened the process.”

“Would they have, really?” I stare at Etzli, allowing the disgust to show in my face even as I keep my eyes carefully pointed everywhere but at her eyes.

Annoyed, she tries a different argument. “All mortals die. It is a fact of their existence. Dying for our sake gives them a greater purpose than they would ever have had. We are their gods. You, of all people, should understand that, Deka.”

Disgust sweeps over me, a burnt and ugly feeling.

“The only thing I understand is that you are monsters,” I declare quietly. “And I am here to end you.”

I raise my atikas, about to strike, but a tornado of white shoots into the room. Melanis, her wings outstretched and ready. “I am here, Divine Mother,” she says breathlessly, as if Etzli just called. “The others are on their way as well.”

Etzli smirks, pleased. So this was what she was doing as she sat here silently. Calling for reinforcements. She nods at Melanis, her expression solemn.

“The Nuru has rebelled against us, Daughter. She is plotting to replace us as your gods. Kill her. Kill the traitor Deka.”

A pious smile slices across Melanis’s lips. “It would be my deepest honour.”

The Firstborn ploughs into me so swiftly, my head cracks against the steps and I see stars. I only just manage to evade the sharpened wingtip she sends hurtling my way mere seconds later, but it catches the edge of my armour, ripping it open like paper. I swiftly roll away, then catapult myself back upright, all my senses on the alert. I can barely hold my own against Melanis by herself. If more Firstborn show up, I’m done for.

Melanis seems almost impressed by my speed. “You’ve become much faster in the last few days, Nuru,” she says, flapping up towards the ceiling. Then she dives at me again, her wings arced.

I manage to block their tips with my atikas, but that just gives her the opening she needs. Using her hands, she unsheathes her sword and stabs my side, twisting the blade so pain ricochets through my nerves. I jerk away, dart for the other side of the room, but Melanis swiftly follows.

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