Thirty
Grandmother has been on my mind all night. I miss our times together at the Blood Moon Festival, when my only worry was failing at magic. How frivolous that seems now. I’ve done everything to delay my mother and sister until the edam could act. When that didn’t work, I tried to sway my sister, then tried to kill her three days ago. There’s nothing more I can do on my own. I need help. Grandmother wouldn’t abandon me, but I’m resigned to believe that either the edam can’t or won’t come. So I’ll go to them.
I plan to escape tonight. If Efiya can kill an orisha and raise a demon army, I’m not sure the edam will be able to stand against her. But I can’t think about the what-ifs now. There’s no other way. I need Grandmother’s ironclad strength. And if decades have passed outside Kefu and there’s a new generation of edam, I will appeal to them.
I lie in bed fully clothed in a tunic and trousers with a sack of provisions tucked under the sheet beside me. I keep still, my muscles wound tight. I’ve been waiting hours for Efiya to leave, and once she does, I wait a little longer to be sure. I can’t stop thinking about the Almighty One’s throne in the salon and what it means. Efiya has been to Tamar and not only that, she’s been in the Almighty Palace. I tell myself that my friends are okay. She has no reason to go after them, yet Arti’s voice rings in my head too. Her horrible decree from the night she summoned Shezmu at the Temple. The awful night that brought Efiya into existence.
You will lose many friends before the end.
A pang twists through me, and no amount of deep breaths calms my nerves.
My mouth parches as I think about my mother. She saved me from Efiya, though she gave no sign that it meant anything to her. Except that she’d squeezed my shoulder after, her hand ice cold and shaking. She’d offered vague comfort in that moment. Does she have a shred of regret for what she’s done? I don’t know, and I don’t have time to consider it. I can’t risk her finding out about my plan either.
I’m halfway out of bed when a splitting pain shoots across my forehead, and I collapse against the pillow. Whispers prick at my mind like sharp needles. Even though the air is as hot as a brazier in my room, chills snake down my back. I wrap my arms around my shoulders to ward off the cold and panic. The whispers are different from the demons in the walls, who do nothing but taunt me. This is something new. They buzz like a hive of angry bees who have lost their queen. I cover my ears and grit my teeth, but the sound vibrates in my scalp. Dread courses through my body. What horrible thing has my sister done now?
Soon the whispers fade to the back of my head. Now isn’t the time to wonder what this means—I have to leave before Efiya returns. Without allowing fear to settle in, I slip into my shoes and grab my provisions. My feet slap against the floor as I rush from my room and the darkness drinks the sound of my steps. That shouldn’t be possible, but I’m relieved as I descend the stairs to the first level. Familiars flicker in and out of the moonlight beaming in the open windows, but they don’t notice me.
I don’t want to leave my father at the mercy of Arti and my sister. He’s done the things my mother wanted, but after all this time, she doesn’t have the decency to let him go. He won’t come without her. A knot hardens in my belly at what I must do. There’s no other choice. I feel like the most awful daughter in the world for leaving without him. But if I can get to Grandmother, she and the other edam can free him. I have to believe that. The alternative is unbearable.
I slip into Terra’s room. Ty’s too; she moved in after the demon took Nezi. “Wake up.” My voice vibrates like a low hum.
Ty wakes first and lights a jar of oil beside her bed. The light makes the space too bright. The room is windowless, I realize, with no moonlight to be had. I shouldn’t have been able to see them to start.
“We have to leave,” I insist. “We have to go while Efiya is away.”
If we are to escape, it has to be now, while she’s gone and before Arti figures out what’s happening. Terra stares at me instead of moving. Ty crosses her arms.
“Go where?” Terra asks. “She’ll find us.”
“I know a place.” I don’t, but there’s no time to convince them to come.
Ty shakes her head. She’s still loyal to my mother, even after all that Arti’s done.
Terra knots her blanket in her hands. “You shouldn’t be here, Arrah.”
“I’m leaving,” I say, stubborn. “You can either take a chance at freedom or stay a slave to Efiya’s whims. How long do you think it’ll be before she gives your bodies to demons too?”
Ty presses her palm against her heart in a gesture of love, and slumps back on her pillow. Her eyes are glassy, like freedom is some childhood treat that she’s outgrown. She’s not coming. I blink back tears as I return her gesture. Biting her lip, Terra climbs from her bed and starts to dress. Ty grunts as if to say Terra’s a fool, but then, Terra has a family waiting for her. A father whose gambling debt she’s more than thrice paid off, and a mother caring for her siblings.
Terra and I say nothing as we sneak out of the villa and cross the darkness that surrounds it. It’s infinite and heavy against our skin like molasses. There’s a restlessness within it that claws at my mind. But this time the darkness doesn’t suffocate me. I don’t know how, but I see a clear path through it, a crossroads of sorts. I point out the faded white lines, but Terra doesn’t see them. The demons are one shapeless form, but their individual minds whisper to me. I clench my teeth, trying to ignore them.
She will find you.
She will consume you.
You’re as good as dead already.
You can’t run, little charlatan.
The voices speak of suffering, of desire, of intense hunger. The other voices—the ones from my room, the ones in my head—all spoke at once and I couldn’t understand their words. Terra touches my arm. I can’t see her in the unyielding darkness, but her worry pulses in her fingertips. None of this makes sense, that I can see these white lines. That I can see the shape of the demons’ souls and the impression of their wings. That they had wings was one of many details the orishas kept for themselves.
“Are you okay?” Terra asks.
I’m not okay, but one way or another I will leave Kefu tonight. Outside the gate, nighthawks lay siege to the desert, their screeching frantic. Whatever has the demons flustered, it’s done the same to the birds. My stomach sinks when my gaze lands on Arti’s back. She stands in our path, her sleeping gown flapping in the stiff breeze. Terra tenses at my side and shrinks behind me. I should’ve known that my mother would try to stop us—nothing slips her notice.
I stand a little taller, take Terra’s hand, and trudge forward. I will no longer cower before my mother. Let her do her worst. If it comes to it, I’ll appeal to the side of her that saved my life.
“She’s ruining everything,” Arti says, her voice so meek that it surprises me. “All my careful planning for this . . . ?” My mother turns around, and I stop cold at the sight of her gaunt, tired face. Her red-rimmed eyes. She lets her words trail off like she expects me to console her.
I won’t allow myself to pity Arti. She knew the consequences—she was too obsessed with releasing the Demon King to care. “Heka warned you,” I say, shaking with rage, “but you didn’t listen either. Now you can’t control her.” As much as I want to rub it in her face, my satisfaction is bittersweet.