Blossom Pt. 02

"May the ancestors go with you," he bowed his head.

I led a prayer, to Abso Oko and the generations that had come before me, and to the ancestors of the village, asking them to grant us vision and guide our hands. I poured a libation of palm wine on the ground, in the slim shadows of the village ancestral stones. Jinai, Musa, and myself joined Lonji and his younger brother in his boat.

The two villagers rowed us away, leading the other boats in a solemn caravan. I looked back to at the hummock, where I saw Njiba and many of the older villagers watching us silently from the rise.

"What happened here, Lonji? How did this begin?"

The young fisherman sat in the prow, his back to our destination, rowing easily through the jade waters. "It happened when I was young, so I know mostly by what I've been told," he said. "Foreigners came, much like the ones you captured, haggard and wild. They stole from us, beat and killed anyone who fought, and took captives. They came each night, for many nights, raiding each of the three villages so that we couldn't know where to defend ourselves. They told us they would keep coming. They would take us all and raze our villages, unless we sent them our firstborn men."

"Every two moons, a man must go to them. Sometimes lone fishermen are taken in their boats. But usually men go on their own. Usually it is a firstborn male. Either way, they never, ever come back."

Zahar was the firstborn male.

"So Njiba and the others believe they are saving the village. Preventing a war," I said.

He nodded. "Our elders think we are too young to remember and understand," he said. "But the time will come when we are so weak, and they have become so numerous, that they will take us all anyway. We must end it."

The noon sun bore down on us, dappling the water, warming my scalp under the headwrap. A pod of hippos waded through the waters at a distance, only their rounded backs and heads above the surface. I could almost pretend this was a pleasure voyage, but Musa and Jinai swept the view ahead of us like hungry hawks.

"I believe we are being watched, Lady Keya," the archer said. He'd already strung his bow, and rested an arrow on the string.

My gaze darted towards every flying bird and animal cry, but I detected no trace of men in the water.

"If you see an immediate threat," I said. "Do not hesitate. But remember that we aren't here for a fight."

The waterway became increasingly choked, mangrove root systems arcing down into the swamp, like wooden forks of lightning. Finally, it looked as if the way was blocked by curtains of the aerial roots. Now, when I peered through the trees, I could see furtive movement in the shaded light ahead.

"From here, we must wade through the shallows," Lonji explained.

Jinai and Musa hopped into the water. I glanced down at my sky blue gown, and ivory trousers, but I had expected this. I clutched the satchel that hung over my shoulder. The handmaid helped me hop over the side, while most of those in other boats did the same.

The water was cool, shaded and topped with green film. It immediately soaked through my clothes, reaching up to my thighs. Sucking mud gripped my sandals.

"Step where I step," Lonji cautioned. He began prodding ahead with a long pole, pushing aside roots. "There are barnacles in the mud with sharp edges."

Jinai followed him. I trailed after her, with Musa and a line of villagers behind us. I saw few weapons, other than poles and the knives fishermen carried.

We hadn't gone far when I noticed that the water was becoming shallower. A hummock loomed ahead. Men gave hoarse cries. They were visible now, running to and fro in the mist.

We advanced until finally a group came to confront us. Bow on his shoulder, Musa surged out of the water, grasping a heavy bough and hauling himself up. He scooted into a dry notch along the twisted trunk where he had clear lines of sight, and unlimbered his bow again.

"Stop," a man shouted at us. "What do you want?"

I waded ahead of Lonji. The water was still up to my knees. Jinai stayed by my side. At least twenty men fanned out some distance ahead of us, climbing over and through aerial roots, crouching with clubs, nets and spears. A few held small hunting bows. Their clothing was tattered and stained. Their hair drooped in knotty locks.

"I ask to see Blossom," I called back. "And we ask to see our loved ones."

"You may come," the leader said. He was bearded and savage looking, his face nearly hidden behind bushes of hair. "The others must turn back. They know the agreement."

The crude men continued to advance, widely enough that they would encircle us.

"Whatever you are going to do," Jinai whispered, "do it now."

I raised my arms in invocation. "We will do as you ask," I said to the leader, "if you will join us in a prayer."

As he slowed, and the others followed his lead, I began the prayer.

The sacred ancestors' call

Over time without bounds

Is the call of the shepherd

Guiding us home

We walk in their path

Of wisdom eternal

Our legacy delivers us

While the gods slumber

Hark, I hear the First Woman, calling!

Hark, I hear Abso Oko, first of his House, calling!

Hark, I hear Mansa, singer of songs, calling!

Hark, I hear Kafi, maker of boats, calling!

Hark, I hear Yaro, fisherman, calling!

As I fell silent, villagers called out behind me, naming a long line of their forebears in common prayer.

The cultists hesitated, seeming unsure of what to do. I felt the charms on my wrists and at my throat grow warm with power. The names of the ascendants rang out, and then the deathly silence of the swamp became a presence of its own.

"Lift the curse on this land! Break all enchantment! Unveil clouded eyes!" I cried. "By all the sacred ancestors, let it be so!"

The cultists staggered. Some dropped their weapons and stood, bewildered. Their weighted nets slumped into the muck, forgotten.

Other men looked up, now with eyes of recognition. A few of the villagers rushed forward, splashing through the water to embrace loved ones.

Mist wreathed the land ahead. Figures there gathered to watch, and others ran back and forth. Certain that the cultists who'd confronted us were no longer a threat, I pushed ahead, Jinai by my side. Musa had dropped back into the water, and took his place beside me. Many of the villagers, bolder now, surged ahead with us.

As we mounted dry land, shapes on that hallowed ground solidified in the steamy air. The cultists had built a rough settlement, their huts clinging to the trunks of massive mangroves. The huts were festooned with painted hides, so as to appear a part the smooth gray skin of the trees. Burning brands stuck in the mud, lighting the shaded area. There were only men here, and they looked on with menace. But now they were outnumbered.

One end of the hummock was dominated by an immense stone head, as large as a two-story building in Namu. Its eyes were slit-like, like the shells of a ritual mask, and its mouth was a gaping black hole at ground level. The gray stone sculpture was tilted and covered with vines. It seemed to have sunken with age into the muck.

I recognized the style. This was an ancient Gujari tomb. It must have been centuries old.

"Keya," Jinai urged. The cultists here were shouting at the villagers, warning us to get back. I closed my eyes, concentrating, feeling the conflict mirrored in the spiritual world.

Burial grounds were places of enormous power. There were unknown ancestors here, and they might resent the presence of outside spirits. I struggled to feel the ascendants we had brought with us. Once I did, I repeated final part of the prayer, dispelling the enchantment.

But even as the cultists that milled about outside relaxed, an angry shout came from inside the dark mouth of the tomb.

"Get down!" Jinai cried, knocking me to the earth. Something whisked over my head.

Musa set an arrow to the string, stepping in front of me. Jinai crouched over me, curved knife in hand. As I tried to rise, she held me down. I heard screaming. A fisherman that had been next to me was wounded. The weapon lodged in his shoulder -- which had barely missed me -- was familiar. A throwing axe, with a gleaming steel blade like a hornbill's beak.

A weapon used by Oko warriors.

"Stop!" I cried. "In the name of House Oko! Stop! We came in peace!"

I twisted to look towards the tomb. A man lay dead in the entrance, one of Musa's elephant-slayers standing tall from his chest.

"I knew that man," Musa muttered.

"Go back!" a voice shouted from inside.

"Let me speak to Blossom!" I thrust Jinai away and climbed to my feet. People were helping the wounded fisherman next to me, pressing cloth to his torn flesh. Others gathered around us, cultists and villagers, facing the tomb with enraged expressions.

"Why wasn't the enchantment broken on them?" Musa said.

"I don't know. It could be the aura of the tomb, it could be..."

The demon inside. That was where Blossom had to be.

"If those are our men fighting us," Musa said, "and we have to force them out, it will be bloody." He grimly regarded the villagers and fishermen around us. "We may not be able to do it without killing them."

I searched for Lonji. The young fisherman was with his brother, his swollen nose wet with tears. "Will you take some of the others and search these huts? Look for tunnels, for people we might have missed, or something left behind that might be of value."

"Yes, Lady Keya," he said. He gestured to some of the others and began to explore the huts and the rest of the hummock.

"Blossom will see you, Lady Keya!" a voice called from within the tomb. "She will release your brother, in exchange for you."

Could Zahar still be alive? I had only hoped until now, but it seemed possible.

"I agree," I called back, "in exchange for the release of all of the men."

"You must swear by your House that you will honor your word!"

"No," Jinai whispered. "This is not an exchange!"

I fixed my gaze upon the handmaid, as I called back. "I swear on the name of House Oko that my word is truth!"

"You are the leader of House Oko now," Jinai said. "You cannot risk yourself for Zahar."

"Isn't that what I have been doing all of this time, Jinai? Risking myself for him?"

I still wore charms. A demon could not physically harm me. And even if the infernal could overcome my wards, the House would have Zahar to lead it instead of its cursed recluse of a daughter.

"He is the eldest child, and he is the leader," I said. "I am less important."

"No!" For perhaps the first time, I saw fear in Jinai's eyes. "Don't do this," she begged.

There was no way we could fight my brother and his men to save them. They were skilled warriors, in a defensible position. There was nothing else to bargain with. Demons lived to breed, and this one wouldn't give up its captives without someone else in exchange.

Someone fertile.

"We can't just walk away, Jinai. Once we have Zahar, we have to get our men out. We have to stop the demon."

"Then let me go with you."

I shook my head no. "I need someone outside that I trust. Help Zahar. Make sure there are no bolt-holes nearby that Blossom can use to escape." I put my hand on Jinai's shoulder and managed a shaky grin. "If I get stuck in there, just come and get me."

"Zahar will come out," the man inside said. "Then you will come in, Lady Keya. Alone. Then we will surrender."

"Agreed," I replied

Jinai grasped my hand. Musa gasped, and I looked up.

There, in the yawning entrance to the tomb, stood my brother.

The red trousers he had worn were in tatters, reaching only to his thighs. Like the other cultists he was barefoot, and wore no protective charms. His once muscular frame and square jaw were now hollow and emaciated, even more than the other men. His once shrewd gaze was dimmed by the enchantment.

Zahar walked towards us, emerging slowly into the light of day. I wrenched my arm free from Jinai and went to him, speaking the prayer once more.

My brother raised his head, looking me in the eye. I saw the light of recognition in his gaze.

"Sister," he said, squinting in the daylight. He put a hand to his temple, and began to swoon.

I embraced him, dismayed by how weak he felt in my arms. "You are free," I said.

Jinai took his other side, helping him to walk. "Do not go," she urged to me softly. "We will find another way to free the men."

"There is no other way. They serve my House, Jinai. If it were you inside, I would gladly do the same."

A tear trickled down her cheek. She looked like she wanted to kill me. She thought I was a fool, and she was likely right.

I let Zahar go, leaving Jinai to keep him from sagging again. Without a glance at the crowd that had gathered, whispering in hushed tones, I strode into the ancient tomb.

The entryway was tunnel-like, and it took a few seconds for my vision to adjust to the shadow. The Oko warriors peered at me from the recesses. Musa had been right. The tunnel was only wide enough for two. It would have been far too costly to try to force these men out.

I recognized all six of them, including the dead man they had dragged in with them. They held axes, spears and shields. Their eyes glittered like opals in the candlelight. They had tried to kill me once, and could again. I was an enemy to them, nothing more.

I stood in an antechamber, its smooth rounded walls arcing up into shadow. Whatever somber purpose it had once served, it was now a pantry. Baskets of dried fish and fruit were stacked against the walls, their odor distinct against the overlay of mildew and old tallow.

One of the men pointed to the side, into what looked like impenetrable darkness. "Go," he said. "Then we will surrender."

I gazed into the stygian gloom. "No," I said, shaking my head. "Where is the demon?"

"Blossom is there!" he barked. "Go! Or our bargain is no more!"

I peered into the murk again, trying futilely to make out shapes. I couldn't help but wonder if I had made a mistake.

I took a candle sconce from the wall and took a few steps into the dark. When I glanced back, the warriors were still watching me.

"She awaits," he said.

The flame illuminated the dark, glistening stone of a tunnel, with an arching ceiling overhead. On the floor, running down and along the walls, were gutters. The old Gujari Empire was known for its ingenious architecture. Still, one had to question the wisdom of building a stone complex in the middle of a swamp.

I took a few more steps; enough to escape their view. The floor felt smoother here, the soles of my sandals scraping against it. I realized that there had been a layer of soil and tiny mushrooms near the entryway that was thinning out here, leaving the stone bare.

I could faintly hear the presence of water. Not even a trickle or flow, but the sound of water, like in a garden after rain.

I fingered the amulet at my throat, warily looking about for the demon. I was just about to turn back, when the floor spun, with the heaving sound of a great grindstone.

I stumbled as the portion of the tunnel I was in rotated, until I was facing what had been a wall. That wall slid into the floor. A new tunnel yawned before me, just as the space that had opened up behind me was shut off.

It took only a moment for me to regain my breath.

I couldn't reach the entryway anymore.

I hadn't stepped on anything before the shift. I held the candle to the walls and floor, looking vainly for a counterweight or lever. The ancient Gujari were better architects than I had thought, if whatever mechanism they had built into the tomb still worked.

I held the candle out before me. The passage descended at a visible angle. Remembering that this was a house of the dead, I whispered a soft prayer - both to the residents of the tomb, and to my own forebears. One last time, I prodded the unyielding stone behind me. Someone did not want me to leave.

I resolved, then, to meet whatever fate was in store for me.

"I am Lady Keya of House Oko," I said firmly. "Show yourself!"

"Come, Lady Keya," echoed a voice, both distant and clear. The voice was richly deep, not obviously male or female. "I have been waiting for a long time."

Cautiously, I began to edge forward and down. In the candlelight, I could see rivulets draining in the gutters. I continued forward until I reached a tunnel branching to the right. The passage I was in ended at a well of shallow stairs, descending deeper.

I crept ahead and looked down the stairs. At the edge of the light, I saw the reflection of water, wall to wall.

The tomb was drowning, its lower levels filling with the swamp's black brine. I had no idea how rapid the process was. It might have been flooding for hours, or for centuries.

Nervously looking again down the passage to the right, I noticed a faint greenish light.

So that was where Blossom was.

Jinai. Zahar, I pleaded in my thoughts. Do not leave me in this forgotten place.

Clear thinking warned me to be realistic. Jinai thought me foolish, and for good reason. Zahar was still weak, in no condition to lead. For them to venture down here would be... as imprudent as I had been.

I felt cold sweat on my back, and took a deep breath. My sacred ancestors were with me.

A chamber opened up to my right. It extended as far as I could see in the soft yellowish green glow, broad and low-ceilinged. The floor was littered with grave goods. Stone coffers, tablets, and clay jars, lay scattered across the floor, most of them cracked open.

The knowledge to be gleaned from the tablets alone must have been immense. Arranged around the perimeter of the room were dead timbers, ringed with scalloped fungi that emitted the strange light. I had read of glowing plants and animals in scholarly writings, but never seen such an eerie sight.

"Who is there?" I said, my voice wavering.

There was no response.

I scanned the room again. Somewhere in it lurked a creature that had terrorized hundreds.

I was without weapons, save for a small knife in my satchel. But I was not without defenses. Again, I touched the amulet at my throat, felt the reassurance of the gold charms I wore around my wrists. Like ancestral stones, the charms would cause a demon severe pain and physically repel it, keeping all but the most powerful infernals out of range, even of hand-held weapons.

"I am a trained adept to the Temple of-"

"You are exquisite," the voice said. In the odd space and light it echoed, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere. "Never would I have guessed that Keya of House Oko was such a lovely creature."

"Show yourself!"

A dark figure slunk from a low, shadowed mound in the center of the chamber. Human-shaped, it was as smooth and precise in its movement as the swift opening of a flower, or the snap of a fly-eating plant. Its skin was the shade of the blackest pit, but it was painted in whorls and stripes that glowed in the strange light. The creature's shape was neither male nor female. It was both and neither.

As it crept towards me, I suppressed the urge to cringe. Some demons wore masks, but this one appeared completely unclothed. Glowing rings circled the creature's eye-sockets. The eyes themselves were nearly invisible in the gloom.

"You cannot harm me," I said, defiantly.

"Nor would I choose to."

As it drew near, I noticed the scent of burning jasmine. Honeyed sweetness flooded my senses, so intense I could almost taste it, igniting a feathery warmth in my breast.

"My people await above," I said. "Your followers have surrendered, or I have turned them. If I do not return, my brother will come for me. So what do you want?"