“I’m fine, Aaku,” he says. “The queen is letting me awaken. Tonight! I can hardly believe it.”
He thought Aaku Malusi might share in his joy. Instead, the old man shakes his head, despair deepening the lines on his weathered face. “Oh, you stupid boy. You stupid, foolish boy. Why did you have to tell them your secret? Why, my child?”
For a second Salo watches him in stunned silence. “You knew about it?”
“Of course I knew! I’m not blind. I notice things.” He points a frail finger at the old cabinet in the room. “And I know what’s hidden inside there and how you used it.”
Salo doesn’t know what to say. He thought he was careful in all his dealings with the forbidden. He used his talisman for all his work, never writing anything down on paper, and he only ever used the Carving when he was alone. Aaku Malusi certainly never hinted that he knew what was going on under his nose. “Then . . . why didn’t you say something?”
The old man sighs. “Because I thought you were smart enough to keep it to yourself.”
Salo looks down at the gourd on the table, the wine turning sour in his mouth. “I take it you don’t approve.”
“I’m worried about you, Musalodi. What you did today marked you forever as a man who doesn’t know his place. I’m worried this will be a stain you won’t ever wash off.”
“But don’t you see?” Salo says. “I did it for the clan. I averted the hyenas taking over and undermining my aba’s rule. I’m sure everyone will understand. They have to. Don’t they?”
The old man regards him with pity. “I think you overestimate their capacity for understanding and acceptance. I would die for this clan, my child; I would die for my tribe, but I know all too well that my people aren’t kind to those of us who are different.” Tears gather in his eyes again, and his voice wavers. “I just don’t want to see you become like me. That’s all.”
“I . . .” Salo’s voice dies in his mouth, and he finds no words worthy to speak. What can he even say to this?
“Musalodi!”
A loud, angry voice coming from outside draws their attention to the door. Salo blinks, wondering why whoever it is has chosen to yell rather than knock.
“Musalodi! Come out here and face us!”
He stills as he recognizes the voice, cold dread settling into the pit of his stomach. “I think those are my brothers out there.”
“Don’t move a muscle.” Aaku Malusi’s lips press together into a thin line as he rises and picks up the staff leaning against the table. He walks over to the door and opens it, stretching his normally stooped figure to its full height. When he stands erect, he is almost as tall as the chief.
“What do you want?” he demands. “Why do you shout like this when the suns have gone down? Have you no respect?”
“We’re not here for you, old man,” says the voice from outside. “We’re here for the siratata you’re hiding, or is he too much of a coward to face us?”
That’s it.
Salo shoots up to his feet and strides for the door, where Aaku Malusi is still facing down the visitors.
“Is that any way to speak to an elder, young man? Have you no respect?”
“We won’t leave until he comes out. Musalodi!”
“I’m right here,” Salo says behind Aaku Malusi, intending to slip past him and out the door, but the old man blocks the way forward with his arm.
“You don’t have to do this,” he says over his shoulder, his eyes imploring. “This is all very silly. It’s foolish.”
“What’s the worst they could do? Beat me? If that’s their plan, then they’ll do it anyway, so I might as well get it over with.”
Aaku Malusi holds his gaze and doesn’t move. “You don’t have to do this,” he says again.
“You can’t protect me forever, Aaku.”
His eyes fall to the floor, and he shakes his head in sorrow. Finally he steps aside. “I’ll be right here.”
Salo nods in gratitude and proceeds to step through the doorway, bracing himself for the worst.
Night has fallen outside, but the full moon and the outdoor glowvines provide more than enough light. What Salo sees makes him instantly realize that a beating is probably not the worst thing that could happen to him after all.
No, what’s about to happen is much worse.
He surveys the scene before him silently—they let him take a good long look. He has taken off his sandals, so he’s barefoot. He doesn’t venture too far from the door.
Around fifty boys are standing in front of him, each with a woody reed in one hand and a steely glint in his eye. The bulk of them are among the clan’s younger rangers, though Salo spots a few white loincloths in their midst.
His two brothers are at the front of the gang.
Apprehension makes his limbs start to tremble. He folds his arms and puts on a stolid mask. “I’m flattered,” he says. “Truly. All this, just for me? You really shouldn’t have.”
Sibu, the more quick-tempered of the twins, glowers with murder in his eyes, like it’s taking everything in his bones to keep his rage on a leash. “I told you this is all just a joke to him.”
“Calm, brother,” Jio says to him. “We’re not here to fight.”
“Are you really going to do this?” Salo says. “Are you really going to toss those things at my feet? I know you’re upset, but—”
“Upset?” Sibu snarls. “That doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel. You’re a disgrace, Salo. You’ve disgraced our aba, and you’ve disgraced this clan.”
His anger is like a field of dry grass just waiting for a bolt of lightning to strike it and set it on fire. Still, it’s the calm in Jio’s voice that Salo finds more disconcerting.
“Do you remember that time Aba sent us to Khaya-Nyati?” Jio says. “I think it was three comets ago. The suns had set, and we were riding in the open wilds, just the three of us, and from out of nowhere comes this massive kerit with a mouth full of drool and teeth like daggers. Do you remember?”
Salo says nothing, knowing that he is but a spectator to a performance.
“Now, me,” Jio continues, “I thought we were done for, but you? Oh, you were like a devil unleashed with your bow.” He shakes his head as he looks Salo over, and his mouth twists with disgust. “What happened to that warrior? Who is this soft, weak, pathetic shadow of a man standing in front of me?”
Defend yourself, damn it, Salo thinks. But he sees that he is teetering at the lip of a chasm and that saying the wrong thing could tip him over.
Jio turns his head slightly to include the other boys in his speech. “I’ll be the first to admit it—I know we’ve been unkind to you these last few years, but a part of me always held out hope that the brother I saw that night would return to us. Now there was someone I could respect.” He looks back at Salo, and the betrayal shining in his eyes is surprisingly genuine. “Shows me what a fool I am.”
I hurt them, Salo realizes. I hurt my brothers. But how can they be so blind? “Did I really do such a terrible thing?” he finally says. “The queen was about to hand our clan over to the hyenas. Am I the only one who remembers this? You seemed pretty opposed to it, brother. You shouted in defiance at the queen, your own mystic. You all did. But I stopped it. I bought us more time.”