“That one must be the Indlovu Citadel,” said Hadith, pointing to the closest dome, flying a black-on-black flag. “The one beside it will be the Gifted Citadel; beyond them both, that’s the Guardian Keep; and furthest back, that’ll be the Sah Citadel, house of the Goddess.”
Tau stared at the Gifted Citadel. Its domes were black and gold, and what he could see from outside the walls was both impressive and beautiful. It made him think of Zuri. He wondered if she’d run from her fate. He missed her, and with his mind going to painful places, he pushed the past from his thoughts, making sure to pray for her safety first.
“The first city of the Chosen,” Yaw said, voice hushed.
“First on Xidda,” Hadith said. “We had an empire on Osonte. We numbered in the millions and millions.”
“You really… believe that?” coughed Chinedu.
“Believe it? It’s our history.”
“That’d make the Cull history too,” Yaw said, leaving Hadith with no good answer.
The five men, along with the rest of Scale Jayyed, entered the city. There were locals bustling to and fro, but the paths could not be called crowded. Tau saw some Nobles, more Lessers, and a few Proven, but no Drudge. The last made sense; the only Drudge allowed into the holy city were the ones assigned to the comfort lodges.
Also unusual, the city’s buildings were all single story. Well, not all. The citadels stretched for the sky and the tallest of them was the bloodred Guardian Keep. It was not just domed; it had pointed spires that reminded Tau of blades.
“The four pillars that keep us, Chosen of the Goddess, protected and safe against all who would do us harm,” intoned Hadith. “The Sah, Indlovu, Gifted, and Guardian Citadels.”
“Four? What are we, then?” asked Yaw.
Hadith smiled. “Us? You mean Lessers? We’re the fodder that feeds the Chosen military’s insatiable appetite.”
Themba had sidled up during Hadith’s preaching. “We distract the hedeni with our dying, so the Indlovu and Gifted can kill ’em back,” he explained.
“You again?” Yaw said.
Themba showed teeth, shrugged, and sauntered away.
“Where first?” asked Chinedu, managing to get through both words without hacking.
Uduak pointed at one of the long buildings that sat just inside the city’s gates. “Drink.”
Hadith was already on his way. “I won’t argue.”
The drinking house was rough adobe, with more of its interior open to the street than walled in. It was smoky and had a dirt floor covered with scattered straw. It reeked of sweat, the tang of overcooked vegetables, and the unmistakable stink of brewed masmas.
Jayyed’s five, accompanied by Themba, who clung to them like a flea, and Oyibo, who stared at everything with moon eyes, found an empty table and sat. The houseman came over in short order with seven jugs of masmas. He laid them on the table and was about to walk away when Hadith stopped him.
“You have Jirza gaum?”
The houseman, skin so dark he could be half-dragon, looked Hadith up and down, then nodded.
“I’ll take that,” Hadith told him. The houseman sniffed, scooped up one of the jugs, and went to get Hadith his drink.
“Gaum?” Tau asked. After his last experience with it, he couldn’t imagine drinking the stuff for pleasure.
“He’s trying to be fancy,” said Themba. “In Jirza, they don’t drink gaum at the manhood ceremony only. They mix a couple drops of the scorpion’s poison with heated water. It makes it weak enough to sip, like you’re a proper Noble.”
Tau screwed up his face.
“It’s better than rotted cactus milk,” said Hadith, peering at the yellowish white brew in Tau’s jug.
“Lies.” Uduak said, lifting his freshly emptied jug into the air, signaling the houseman to bring another.
“To Goddess and queen,” said Themba, raising his jug.
“To Goddess and queen,” they all said, guzzling back the thick and lukewarm liquor.
Tau swallowed some wrong, coughed, and burped. The others laughed. He glared and burped again, and Yaw guffawed, spitting a mouthful of masmas on the table as the houseman returned with Hadith’s watered-down gaum and Uduak’s second jug. The houseman gave Yaw a look for dirtying up his table and Hadith tried to smooth it by thanking him graciously. The houseman pursed his lips but left, saying nothing. He wasn’t five strides distant when the initiates burst out laughing. Tau too. He couldn’t help it, and it felt good.
“Empty,” said Uduak, glaring into his jug like it had offended him.
Tau stole a look at the small purse on his belt. He had enough of his stipend to carry the circle. “On me,” he said, turning toward the houseman and raising a hand.
“A blue Noble, this one!” said Hadith, grinning.
That annoyed Tau, and he was going to make his annoyance clear, when he saw her. She was walking down the street. His hand dropped, his mouth fell open, and it felt like he couldn’t move. He had to be dreaming… but she was real. Zuri was here, in Citadel City, and in the black robes of the Gifted.
“Ordering?” asked Uduak.
Tau dropped his coin purse on the table and walked out of the drinking house.
Chinedu called after him. “Tau?”
Themba must have seen her first. “Leave him. He saw a girl. Anyway, he left his money, and like the man said, the circle is on him.”
As Tau got to the street, he heard Hadith’s reply. “That’s not a girl. That’s a Gifted.”
It was her. Tau was several strides back, but there was no mistaking her figure or her gait. It was Zuri.
He called to her, still feeling like he was in a dream. She turned at her name and his knees went weak. Memories, history, the life he had wanted to live and lead with her, it came flooding back in a torrent that threatened to knock him flat.
“Tau?”
“It’s me,” he said, going to her, reaching out for her, praying she wouldn’t reject him. She let him take her hands, and the soft, warm skin of her palms and fingers soothed him, calmed the rage in him faster and more completely than the drink and the jokes could ever have done.
“It’s you,” she said. “It’s really you.” And then she brought him pain. “Did you… did you kill him? Are you trying to kill them?” There was fear in her voice. “Is that why you’re here?”
Tau stiffened, letting her hands go. “It’s not,” he said. The admission stung, but he forced himself through all of it. “I’m not here to find them. I… I’m not ready.”
She nodded as if she understood, as if she was trying to understand. “Lekan, though?”
Tau didn’t know what to say, and he could feel her eyes tracing his scar.
“Ekon told me what Lekan did to Anya and her family,” Zuri said, her voice little more than a hush.
He’d almost forgotten his scar. He’d almost forgotten Lekan. “Lekan…” He trailed off. What could he say?
Zuri seemed to take her answer from his hesitation. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you… for that.”
Tau didn’t want to talk about Lekan. “You’re here?” he asked. “A Gifted? I thought—”