Convergence

Keya's former guard gazed flatly at Zhura.

"You too, my love," Keya urged softly.

**

Later, Zhura and Keya walked back through the quiet Upper City, on the broad street that led to the palace gates.

Zhura cleared her throat. "What did you and Jinai talk about?"

Keya's eyes were downcast. "She said if I wanted to fight demons and witches, I could have stayed with House Oko. She said I would have avoided sleeping in the bush, collecting blisters, and nearly getting killed in the process."

"You've been perfectly safe," Zhura protested.

Keya frowned. "Except for the lions."

"Well, there was that."

"And getting snatched away by demons."

Zhura nodded. "Yes, all right, though I still think you enjoyed that part too much. You seemed happy enough to rut both of them."

The priestess was bold enough to look affronted. "-And almost being entombed on the Night of the Forgotten. And those bandits in Chide-"

"So Jinai has a point," Zhura admitted. "You told her about all of that?"

"I didn't tell her about any of it."

Zhura glanced at Keya. "When are you going to?"

"Never! Jinai will never understand. So there's no point in telling her."

They veered around a steaming pile of dung the size of coconuts. When she spotted another not far ahead, Zhura realized they were walking close behind the Water Keepers. Shouts and arguments came from up ahead.

"That doesn't seem wise, Keya. What happens when she finds out you are with child, and who sired that child?"

They rounded a corner, finding themselves in the little plaza before the bronze gate to the palace.

The priestess sighed. "I don't want to know the answer to that question."

Three elephants, piled high with great jugs of water, and surrounded by red-plumed guards, forced their way through a crowd of Upper City residents. Another knot of red-plumes emerged from the gates, forming a cordon. Recognizing Zhura, the sub-chief waved the two women towards the cordon, to enter the palace along with the Water Keepers.

"Let us in!" a woman in the throng cried, fear twisting her face.

"Demons roam the Lower City! The King must be told!" shouted another as a guard shoved him back.

Zhura imagined what this scene would be like if the Upper City was cut off from the river. "This has to end," she said, as shouts and the trumpets of elephants battered her ears. "It has to end soon."

**

Zhura awakened to pounding on the door.

Again. "Why can't we get one single night's rest?" she complained.

When she shifted, Keya rolled over. "What is it?" the priestess asked groggily, her eyes still closed.

Zhura swung her feet to the floor and padded to the door.

The bushy-browed sub-chief who waited outside gaped at her nudity before composing himself. "There's an attack," he said. "In the Upper City."

She nodded. She and Keya dressed, while the sub-chief hurried to wake their companions.

They rushed through streets steeped in shadow, with only scattered lamplight and the occasional torch to reveal their way. The narrow passages of the Upper City were like canyons in the night, empty of residents, walls reaching to the starry sky.

The fighting had taken place not far from the Road Gate. Blood still painted the cobblestones. Pools of it clotted, tacky and dark, reeking of copper in the narrow street. Cracks buckled the brick façade of the nearest buildings. The wall of a one-story home nearby was caved in completely.

They'd come as quickly as they could, Zhura, Keya, Ngo and Musa, along with the red-plumed sub-chief. They'd heard the screams as they left the palace and ventured into the pinched streets. But by the time they'd reached the scene of the battle, it was swarming with red plumes, and the fighting was over.

The sub-chief pointed down the street, to where the gate was just a short distance around a turn. "The Road Gate was already closed for the night. A group of wardens was on patrol, and two - zenkomo, you called them - were waiting there in ambush. A priest and more wardens came from the gate to help, but they could not even slow the beasts down. They were forced to retreat. The demons killed nine men, and wounded another twelve."

The battle seemed to have raged down the street to this point, still marked by broken walls, and broken bodies that were being carried away. Zhura remembered her encounter with the bull demon, the zenkomo, in Kichinka the year before. That maul it wielded could easily have shattered a brick wall.

"The priest assures us that the Upper City ancestral wards are still intact," the sub-chief went on. "So you believe the demons were summoned within the city?"

Keya nodded. The priestess looked weary, her eyes puffy. "Those who summoned the zenkomos couldn't have been very far away. Afterwards, the demons must have been banished."

"The wardens said they saw no human foes, just a pair of the creatures," the sub-chief replied. "The demons didn't come close to the gate or walls. So why make the attack?"

"The attack was a demonstration," Keya guessed. "To show that you are not safe behind your wards, even in the Upper City."

Of course she would conclude that. She had tried to give the same warning to the people of Namu.

Wardens had gathered several people, sweaty faced, in light sleeping gowns, who'd emerged from their homes, and begun questioning them.

"Did anyone see the demons vanish?" Keya asked the group.

"I did. I was looking out my window," a tall boy said. He pointed to the street, only a few paces away. "They disappeared, right there."

Other residents voiced their agreement.

"Did you see anyone nearby? Perhaps a woman with dark scars?" Zhura asked.

None of the witnesses had. But the summoners had to have been here.

Keya glanced at the surrounding buildings. "Have all of these been searched? Have wardens questioned people in each of them?"

The sub-chief nodded. "We've found no one with scars like you described. We talked to people from all of these homes. Except for this one, which has been abandoned." He pointed to a three-story block house that looked dark and empty, except for flashes of lamplight, visible behind open shutters. "We're searching inside now."

"That's the orphan's den," a woman said.

"Thieves' den, you mean," said another. "Those kids would steal the bangles off your wrists if you didn't watch them."

"Where are the children now?" Keya asked.

An old man with watery eyes answered. "About a week ago, Miko, one of the men who looked after the kids, was found dead in the street. The children have been gone since."

Zhura only partially listened. She drifted away from the throng, sandaled feet retracing the battle's path. She could taste the coppery tang in the air, and another scent, at once powerful and subtle, of burning dung. It drew her back to Kichinka, where she could still hear bloodcurdling cries.

"You have fought this type of demon before?" the sub-chief asked, bringing Zhura out of her reverie.

Looking past him, Zhura saw Keya and the others still questioning those who'd witnessed the battle. "It wasn't much of a fight. I landed blows, but didn't hurt it."

"How do we kill them?" the man asked. "According to the wardens, they shot one of the beasts full of so many arrows, it looked like a porcupine. But it wouldn't stop."

"They are very solid, but they must have weak points. Eyes, ears, whatever seems vulnerable. Were the wardens wearing their own talismans for protection?"

"For all the good it did them, yes."

"You should set your priests to making consecrated wards for the men," Zhura said. "It will take time, but Keya can help."

The herb-witch did a double-take as she spotted Jinai walking down the street towards her former mistress. The tall handmaiden, swathed in loose robes of ivory and green, glanced at Zhura as she passed by.

Zhura's eyes narrowed. Despite her past relationship with Keya, or perhaps because of it, Jinai only seemed to further complicate what was already a vexing matter. "If I am going to face creatures like this, I'll need different weapons," Zhura said to the sub-chief. "Is there an armory I can use back at the palace?"

"Certainly."

"Thank you," she said. She slipped away from the sub-chief as one of the red plumes approached him for help.

Though she carried no obvious weapons, Jinai did not seem the least bit intimidated by the heavily armed Ngo, who stood beside Keya. Zhura didn't miss the look between Jinai and Musa. It seemed there was no love lost between them either.

"What are you doing here?" Keya asked her former companion.

"We heard the fighting," Jinai replied. Her gaze lingered on the abandoned orphan's den. "I brought a few of the askari with me to help. It appears that the Road and River Gates are now closed, until the wardens are certain about how the demons got in and out. Ranthaman is trapped here, which means you may get what you want. He may have no choice but to support the king."

"It is the only reasonable choice," Keya said.

As it became apparent that the danger had passed, the Upper City folk began to filter back into their homes. Wardens, in small lamp lit groups, cast about in all directions, looking for evidence as to where the attackers had gone. As she watched the guards disperse, Zhura spotted a familiar face, peering at the companions from the shadows of an alley.

"It's the drongo," Zhura said in a low voice.

As discreetly as she could, the herb-witch led her friends into the alley. By then, the girl was at the far end of it, gesturing for them to follow. Soon they had reached an empty street, lit only by a distant burning sconce and starlight.

The nappy headed girl emerged from the shadows, bestowing a crooked-toothed grin upon them.

"Why did you hide from the wardens?" Zhura asked the girl.

It was Jinai who answered, however. "She is a scavenger. The city guards probably beat kids like her, steal from them, or worse. Marble is one of Whisper's informants."

"Whisper?"

"An information broker who lived in that building the wardens were searching. She used to be in the Upper City. Now...?" Jinai looked to the girl.

Marble said nothing.

"Did you see the demons?" Keya asked the girl.

Marble nodded.

Keya dug in the folds of her robes. She handed the girl something wrapped in palm leaf. Zhura guessed it was dried fruit from the palace, or yam chips from their rations. "Where did they go?"

The girl took it, stashing it in the folds of her stained dress. "They vanished into the air," she said.

"Were there women with them?" asked Zhura.

"Two scarred women, yes."

"Did you see where the women went?"

Marble nodded. She gestured to them and hurried down the street towards the western wall of the Upper City.

The companions followed. Marble seemed to prefer to stay ahead of them, darting around a corner into another alley, but waiting for them to enter before leaving the narrow pathway.

The Upper City seemed as desolate as the Southside ruins in Namu, except for the occasional glimpse of a red-plumed guard on the outer wall, or the rustle of someone peering at them from a shuttered window. It seemed that those who had not already fled were either holed up in their homes, pleading to get into the palace, or already locked away by King Yende.

Eventually they came to another one-story home - a block of reddish mud-brick that backed upon a street along the western wall of the Upper City. Without hesitation, the scrawny girl pushed open the wooden door, though it stuck badly in the dried mud.

The interior of the windowless home was dark. Marble lit a bit of tallow. She led them from one empty room to another, where a jumble of brick ovens were lined along the dirt against the back wall. Marble pointed into the dark mouth of one of them, an opening only about one pace in width and height.

"It leads out of the Upper City?" Jinai guessed.

"Show us," said Zhura.

The girl rolled her eyes. She stooped, holding the candle to the oven mouth. Sure enough, the chamber had a hole in its floor, extending beyond the radius of the faint light.

Zhura looked at the others, who looked back at her.

"My shoulders are too wide," Ngo complained.

Musa was a smaller man, but his bow certainly would not fit.

The herb-witch sighed. "All right. I'll go."

"I will as well," said Jinai.

Zhura arched an eyebrow in surprise. "How long is the tunnel?" she asked the girl.

Marble shrugged. "Eight paces. Maybe nine. It comes out on the side of the mesa."

Zhura handed her staff to Keya. She crouched down and crawled into the oven mouth. The hole was barely wider than her. It took a moment before she could move on all fours without banging her head. It was pitch black. Hard earth scraped against her knees and palms. There was no way to move quickly, but a child would navigate it more easily.

She felt many-legged vermin skittering across her hands and over her calves, but she was more concerned about the woman she heard crawling behind her. Zhura didn't think for a moment that the former guard was unarmed, and it was still a mystery as to why she was in Morore.

It may have been eight paces, but it felt like eighty.

Finally, the blackness turned to brown. Zhura reached a pocket that was large enough to stoop in. She got her feet under her in the little nook, disturbing weaver birds who roosted there. Zhura eased around a turn, following the flapping wings and feathers that made her want to sneeze. Finally she reached the exit - a hole in the rock, high on the mesa cliff. The slope would be treacherous at night, but not impossible to climb.

Lower City sprawled beneath her, glowing with the light of torches and lamps. The river meandered to the south, a black ribbon that shimmered in the night. The Brassbelt crossed the water on an arched bridge of russet stone.

What sounded like deranged laughter was, Zhura realized, the sound of hyena calls. Not unlike those she'd heard on the savanna, these came from the far side of the river. Even as she watched, bright flaming arrows arced from the bridge to the far shore. The herb-witch caught glimpses of movement, and heard more cries - human screams this time - but could see little in the night.

"It seems you have truly stepped deep into it," Jinai said, beside Zhura. Her tall form was steeped in shadow as she peered at the scene along the river.

"As have you."

"It isn't me I worry about," Jinai replied smoothly. "And it certainly isn't you."

"But you worry about her. So will you help us now?" Zhura asked. "Help the king?"

Jinai turned, the outline of her scowl evident in the dim light. "Your best move is to flee the city. Now." She gestured down at the road below them. "You even have a way out."

Zhura shook her head. "She isn't a child, Jinai."

"You know as well as I that she cannot protect herself. Not like you or I. Not like your warrior friends. She is only here because of you."

"She makes choices. They are not your choices to make, nor are they mine."

"She looks fatigued, or ill," Jinai said. "Can you not see it?"

She is almost three months pregnant. But then, Jinai wouldn't have known that. Zhura would not be the one to tell her.

"She is well enough," Zhura said. "I am an herb-witch."

Jinai nodded. "Perhaps she needs a better herb-witch," she said smoothly. She sighed. "There is a larger plot here. You and the Thandi are at the center of it, Zhura."

"I know that now."

The vast, walled compound of the Caster's Guild stretched along the river. It was the closest thing in the Lower City to a fortress. If Emmi had influence there, it might be a safe place to hole up. The fighting on the bridge and the far approach seemed to have subsided, but she could still see tiny figures running to and from the river like termites around a disturbed mound.

"Ranthaman is at the palace now, conferring with Yende. He has bid me to help you as best as I can," Jinai said softly.

Surprised, Zhura turned to Jinai, but the other woman was watching the city below.

"Thank you," said Zhura.

"We will likely die here," Jinai replied.

When they returned back through the tunnel, Keya and Marble were waiting for them. Musa poked his head in from the front room, from where he and Ngo watched the street.

"How often do the Thandi use this tunnel?" Zhura asked Marble.

"This is our tunnel. The Scarred Women just found out about it, and used it this once. Now you can tell the soldiers, so they will close it up."

"How did the Thandi find out about your tunnel?" Keya asked.

Marble scowled. "Miko told them. But he's dead now, and there are other tunnels he didn't know about."

"So you drongos can come and go from the Upper City? Even with the gates closed?" Zhura asked.

Marble just looked at her.

"Of course they do," said Jinai. "They are skilled at being unseen. Most people probably ignore them anyway."

Zhura had seen Jinai's old scars, and she'd seen the gangs of orphans who prowled the beaches and the Hazard in Namu. It didn't take much to guess that the Ikanjan woman had encountered street children in her past. Perhaps she had been one herself.

"So the Thandi came in to the Upper City somehow," Keya mused. "Through the tunnel or through the gates. They summoned the zenkomos and attacked. Then they banished the demons and slipped out of the Upper City, leaving us to wonder how demons got here and whether they might attack again."

"Now we can close up the tunnel and tell the king the Upper City is safe against another attack," Zhura said.

"Or..." said the priestess, eyeing Zhura.

A grin slowly stretched Zhura's lips.

"Or you could set a trap," guessed Jinai.

Zhura turned back to the girl. "This is very important. Just before the demons vanished, did the women say anything? Did you hear words?"

Marble held out a grubby hand, palm up.

"I don't have any more food," Keya said.

Jinai offered the child a handful of copper bits. Keya frowned at her former lover.

"We can trust her," Jinai said to Keya. "I know it." She turned back to the girl. "If you continue to provide us with what we need, you'll not want for a thing. I promise."

Marble took the coin. "One of the women, the one closest to me, said something." She squinted as she remembered. "It was... 'Ulubuleli'."

**

Like much of what was in the palace armory, the chamber seemed a relic of an ancient past, emulating a style older than anything Zhura had seen in Namu. Thick, rectangular pillars of red ochre supported the ceiling, and the walls were panels of soft blue and ivory. The wide room was lit by torches, whose smoke curled around the chamber and into chimneys, carrying with it the scent of dust and aged wood.

But this was not just any armory. It was King Yende's personal collection. Innumerable shields, spears, stylized clubs, swords, axes and ceremonial knives hung upon the walls. Some, battered and notched, had been wielded by Yende or his companions. Some had been gifts.

Some were familiar.

Zhura's staff was not a weapon of war. It could not protect her or her companions against arrows or other projectiles.

The king leaned in the doorway, watching his daughter scan the room. Zhura found herself drawn to a kirri club and shield. Menga had told her about this southern weapon, a slender shaft topped with a knob of weighty heartwood. The sphere on the end of this one was capped with bronze - an alloy that would injure demons. The opposite end of the shaft tapered to a lethal point, also plated in bronze.

The shield was oblong and covered with the thick hide of a rhino or hippo. Its face was painted with the geometric pattern of a turtle shell.