Descent

"What are you proposing beyond research?"

"Only... companionship."

"But you are married," I stammered.

"And you are not," San grinned. "Which presents much opportunity."

I hesitated, still unsure if this was some sort of ruse. Amankar was not unattractive for his age. His suggestion was made respectfully. Before the Ijon River expedition, before my sexual encounters with Blossom and Jinai, when I craved affection from any source, I would have quickly accepted the offer.

But there was a subtle insult here. Amankar assumed that I would never marry, and that I had no real prospects beyond becoming the mistress to a prestigious scholar. My writings and theories were well-known amongst the Magisters, but still controversial. Formally, I would be Amankar's assistant -- perhaps even his successor -- but informally, I would be a concubine, an exotic plaything for his enjoyment.

"Consider," San said. "House San has interests in the Sizwe Empire and the Hill Kingdoms. House Oko does not. Our House knows people who have encountered Thandi witches. You would benefit by interviewing them."

I cocked my head, something he said having triggered a memory. "And if I agree, you will make these people known to me?"

Amankar grinned. "Let me add a bit of salt to the stew. What if I told you that there was such a person in Namu, as we speak? You and I might discuss this person over palm wine, at your villa, while we negotiate the terms of the sponsorship."

"I will consider your offer, as you have asked." I wouldn't accept it, but I wanted Amankar to remain open to meeting with me again, in case I had more questions. "Fare well, Lord San."

As I left him, he continued to leer.

Jinai awaited me at the top of the short steps that led up to a broad gallery.

"Another San wants your ear," she said. She tossed her head. There, behind her, stood Barasa San, a scion of the House. Barasa was known more for his ambition than his scholarship. He had very dark skin, and wore a short printed tunic of green and gold over loose black trousers. Without his mask, he bore a heavy-lidded look of permanent indifference.

"Lady Oko," he said, approaching. "I would speak with you. Without your servant."

I eyed the other scholars and servants passing through the arcade, and the cluster of San guards behind Barasa that attended him.

"Lord San," I said in greeting. "I have no secrets from my handmaiden. Please, how can I help you?"

"I am intrigued by that lecture you gave. I have thought of little else these past weeks," the younger San said. "Tell me, how is the summoning and banishing of demons possible? By what means?"

"That is the question I am researching."

"Could it be perhaps done with a phallus-shaped object? The size of a man's, perhaps larger? One referred to as a 'stone', but possibly carven from another material?"

I attempted to conceal my shock. I doubt that I entirely succeeded. No one else -- not even Jinai -- could have known about Blossom's stone. I took a moment to compose my response. "That is a very specific description. How did you come by it?"

"I made my own inquiries."

What was House San up to? Was there a spy in House Oko? Even if there was, I was the only one who knew about the stone.

Clearly, I had missed something.

"I see. Well, Lord San, my research suggests that such a stone is one way of banishing or summoning infernals, yes."

Barasa pursed his lips thoughtfully. "If you should come across such an item in your investigations, House San would be amenable to every sort of trade. Of course, if you are considering furthering your work with Amankar, collaboration between our Houses will pose no difficulty. In the meantime, I anticipate your next lecture."

"You and I shall speak again if I find such an object."

Barasa displayed a fulsome smile. "By the ancestors, that does please me."

I spent a few hours in the archives, rereading Amankar's writings about the Thandi, and placing what he had told me in context. Most of his research dated back fifty years, to the origins of the Sizwe Empire. The witches lived in secret, shunned and feared by others.

It struck me that albinos were generally treated the same way, though we had no magical powers with which to defend ourselves. Once the Sizwe conquest began, shamans and their warriors destroyed Thandi clans and pursued the fleeing refugees north.

Jinai and I left the Magisterium then, my guard trailing as we followed the stately, paved avenues of Gold City District. Nobles passed, wearing streaming caftans in pastel colors.

A few months before the Ijon River expedition, there was a report of a fearsome demon in a village called Kichinka, within the Hill Kingdom of Chide, just over the Ikanjan border. The demon and its cult had kidnapped and slaughtered Ikanjan traders from three caravans.

Our nation's warriors were sent across the border to investigate, but the creature and its followers had already fled the village. I later spoke to some of the witnesses, including porters who had survived the third caravan -- a San-owned caravan -- and an Ikanjan warrior who had gone to Kichinka to try to destroy the infernal. In my interviews, I had been concerned only with cataloguing the demon itself.

But what if there was more to the story?

I was eager to peruse my scrolls from the Kichinka encounter, hoping that there was something there I had overlooked, some way that I could bypass House San to get the information I needed. The Thandi witches Blossom had spoken of still existed, and someone, somewhere, knew how to find them.

"I need you to talk to those people from the caravan again for me, Jinai." The problem was that those we had interviewed about Kichinka were probably not in the city. The border was several days' travel from Namu. "The ones we questioned before Ijon River about the bull demon. There's no one else I trust more than you."

Jinai scowled. "They may be hard to find."

"We know all of their names. Ask people connected to House San. Use the scavengers you used to run with. They know much that goes on in this city."

"That was a long time ago," she said. "But I will try."

"I'll give you whatever coin you need."

Jinai gave me a thoughtful look. "How did you banish Blossom?"

My belly suddenly went hollow, my innards twisted into a tight knot. "What do you mean?"

"When I finally reached you in the tomb, you said you banished Blossom. Was it like Barasa said, with this summoning stone he described?"

"I must have misspoke. It wasn't like that," I said in a quiet voice. "I drove Blossom off with my wards and an incantation. Finally, after... everything the demon did to me, I forced it away and it shrank into the shadows."

She had to believe that. After all, my consecrated charms would have protected me. If I hadn't taken them off. Just before I stripped off every thread of my clothing and offered my virgin body to the demon...

We had reached the district gate, where a gang of sweating, bare-chested men coaxed and led buffalos laden with casks through the entrance.

As we waited, Jinai turned to me. "So you don't have a summoning stone?"

"No, Jinai. I've only read about such things."

Jinai believed Blossom had taken me by force. She would kill the demon if she ever had the chance. With the protections against infernals that I'd given her, she'd likely succeed.

If she didn't kill Blossom, my brother Zahar certainly would.

She could never, ever know.

*

I drew circles with my finger around Jinai's dark areola, teasing the smooth flesh, watching her nipple swell. The rising sun bathed the far side of her body in gold, while the side that lay against me was steeped in shadow.

Jinai had many scars. It fascinated me to imagine duels in dark alleys where she had earned those scars, and all the trials she had endured as a scavenger child. Her emotions seemed as guarded as that flesh, covered by calluses and scar tissue.

"Would you still love me," I said, "if I were not Keya Oko?"

Jinai gazed at me for a time. She rubbed sleepy eyes. "You will always be Keya Oko."

"But what if," I said, "I were to leave all of that behind? What if I gave up my station to become a traveling scribe and scholar?"

Jinai's expression was flat. "You would still be the same person."

I rolled my eyes. "Have you not ever dreamed that we could escape all of this? The obligation? The duty? The impractical clothes? That we could go on adventures again, like we did at Ijon River?"

"You want to go on another expedition?"

"Yes!" I said. My heart leapt at the thought. "More... I want to be free again."

"You wouldn't yearn for freedom if you hadn't been born the first daughter of a Great House of Namu. You've never had to worry where your next meal will come from, or whether you'll have a place to sleep during the rainy season." A half-smile curled the corner of Jinai's lip. "Trust me, you'd be miserable as a commoner."

Mother had often said if I had been born to commoners with my skin, I wouldn't have survived my first five years. Many believed albinos were cursed, or that our organs had magical powers, like rhino horns or peacock feathers.

But I was no longer a defenseless little girl. I was a priestess adept, a scribe and scholar. Jinai was my advisor, bodyguard and lover. What more did I need?

After Jinai had rescued me, after we made love for the first time, some part of me believed that she and I could live the rest of our lives on an adventure, free from the binding chains of House and city. Perhaps I was foolish to ever think that. My entire life had been lived behind walls and a golden mask, in sunless archives and dusty studies. Why would it be any different now?

"You think I couldn't survive without my House?"

"I think..." Jinai's gaze fell upon my hand, still toying with her breast. "I think if you keep doing that, you're going to find yourself tasting my yoni again."

I grinned, planting a kiss on her ribcage. "Is that supposed to frighten me?"

Jinai gave me a roguish look.

My kisses made a journey, crossing her flat belly, and venturing down into the lush, shaded valley of her thighs.

Later, we washed and dressed. It had been a full day since the visit to the Magisterium. In that day, Jinai had had some luck with her search. One of the porters we had interviewed had a wife and brother in the slums of the Hazard, and she hoped to speak with them today. That was, until a runner arrived at the villa summoning me to Oko Palace. My mother wanted to see me at once.

"I'll go to the Hazard tomorrow instead," Jinai offered, referring to the unwarded slum that was, informally, the largest district in the city. We were in my study -- a small, windowless room crammed with vellum, and a massive lion's pelt that I had adored sleeping on since I was a child.

"No," I said. "Talk to them today, if you can. I'll take Musa."

"What are we trying to do here, Keya? Why are these witches so important?"

"The other day, you asked about banishing demons, and whether I had a stone," I said, rolling up the records I had been reading. "If there is a formula to create magic that controls demons, we must learn it. If there is a way demons can bypass warding stones, we must understand it."

Of course, I knew there was a way. I had done it many times with Blossom's stone. I could ask Blossom how the stone's magic worked. But I didn't dare summon that beast with Jinai around.

Jinai nodded. "Then I will go as you ask." She left me there to put my scrolls back in order. Soon after, I left the villa with Musa and one of the other guards.

Musa was a member of the Kut tribe, one of many peoples who dwelt upon the vast savanna north and west of the city. His tribe were famed hunters, even of adult elephants, and he had mastered a bow as tall as he was. He carried it now, striding out ahead of us as we picked our way down the path to the city proper.

After Jinai, there was no one I trusted more than Musa. The two of them had saved my life more than once on Ijon River. The tough hunter was respected, but spoke little with the other warriors. He wore only breeches, often going barefoot, afforded liberties because of his skill with the longbow.

As we passed the compounds of the smiths, tailors and weavers of Gigiri District, I thought back to what I had just reread in my scrolls about the Kichinka incident. The porters we'd questioned had worked for a San caravan master named Ranthaman. They had both spoken of three travelers who had accompanied the caravan, but were not in the employ of House San.

The porters remembered the travelers because they were certain that without those three, none of the caravan would have escaped Kichinka. When the demon cult sprung its trap, the travelers fought alongside the traders. A woman called Zhura turned back to fight the infernal while the rest of them escaped. Somehow, Zhura survived that encounter and crossed the border with them. Incredibly, some of the caravaners believed that a second demon protected her.

When we conducted the interviews, I had been greatly intrigued by these strangers, particularly this Zhura and her second demon. However, House San prevented me from learning her whereabouts, or what became of the three after they crossed the border safely.

Then my brother disappeared on Ijon River, and I had forgotten the matter entirely.

Zhura must have been known to Amankar. I would need to be more persuasive this time to get past the barriers his House had thrown up.

We passed into Gold City and headed towards the southern end of the district. The vast holdings of the Great Houses of Oko, San and Negani made up half of the area of Gold City, each of them larger than the Magisterium, which held Namu's archives, governing Council, court chambers, and the Magisters' college.

From the entry gate to the Oko lands, we were led through a series of terraced gardens and colonnades. House Oko's trade interests were in the sea and across it. Over the generations, my ancestors had dominated trade with the island empire of Guja, the Horselords of the desert emirates, and, even farther across the waters, the Maharanis of Bhatagur and the empire of Xi.

Oko traders brought back all manner of artifacts from foreign lands. But my favorites had always been the living treasures, planted in gardens and croplands. We passed some of them as we walked through the colonnade -- star orchids, banana trees with leaves larger than my head, and serene pools that teemed with water lilies.

Finally we came to a low, plain building of coral ragstone. The attendant who led us here stepped aside, as did my escort. With few exceptions, only family members were allowed within the Oko ancestral shrine.

I pushed the doors open, greeted by the smell of dust and blood. With the lamp given to me by the attendant, I lit eighteen sconces, each revealing a statue in an alcove. For each of the ancestral generations of the Oko, a head sculpture of its patriarch had been crafted in beaten copper. The House ancestors gazed down upon me with cold, greening stares. I gazed back at them, each in turn. All were men. All had borne their own descendants.

"While the gods ever slumber, may the ancestors guide me on my path," I intoned softly.

My mother strode into the hall, followed by my elder brother. She was resplendent in a gown of red and gold thread. Zahar wore much less; just a cloak of cream over his training harness. Both had soft features like me, broad noses and very full lips. But unlike me, their skin was sunbaked, their hair as dark as night. They each embraced me.

"How are you, my daughter?"

"I am well," I said. "You summoned me?"

"Your father has not seen you in days. Soon he will be honored in this hall," she glanced at the statues. "He craves each moment with his eldest children."

"I will visit him," I promised. My father was bedridden. When he was awake, he recognized me only on occasion. When he did not, the meetings were... excruciating.

An uncomfortable silence followed. Zahar paced past us, studying the copper faces as if he'd never seen them before.

"When were you going to tell me about Amankar San's proposal?"

I should have guessed she would know.

"Never."

"You want to refuse him."

"He is San, I am Oko. He has a different field of study. He wants a mistress, Mother, not academic exchange."

"He is old. He will die. Once he is gone, no one will care that you were Oko and he was San. They will see you as his successor."

"In your world, perhaps, of galas and feasts. Scholars will see me as his whore."

My mother's eyes flashed impatience. This spat was just the offspring of older arguments.

Zahar, obviously wishing he were somewhere else, stared up at the green likeness of Omari Oko, our great-great-grandfather.

"What is the alternative?" she asked.

"The alternative to running Amankar's errands and warming his bed? Concentrating on making the city safe from infernals."

"You are a woman, Keya. Your duty to your House is not to make cities safe or write treatises. It is to make your House stronger through marriage."

"But since no one of worth and sound mind will wed me, my duty is... what? To be a whore?"

"No. You have your companionship with Jinai to fulfill your needs."

I couldn't suppress my gasp. "How did you-?"

"Come, Keya, you are not the first noblewoman to dally with a maid. That is a privilege you will always be able to enjoy, discreetly as you have."

I glanced towards Zahar. He had not reacted at all. For one sickening instant, I imagined my mother had planned my relationship to Jinai all along.

"You will always be an Oko," my mother went on. "Which means you will always be here to support your brother. Support, Keya. What were you thinking, offering concessions to these Ijon River commoners?"

Of course she'd find out about that too. It was costing us coin.

"The trade agreement with the villagers was their incentive to help us find Zahar," I said. "Would you rather have left him in the swamp?"

"Of course not. But your promises are not binding, and we will not honor them."

"Then the villagers will believe us to be a House of liars."

"What those people believe is of no consequence."

I balled my fists, a dozen retorts on the tip of my tongue.

But then I remembered who and where I was. My mother might have an ear for gossip, but as a thinker she was a dull knife. Slow to complete a task, and well past her best days. Nothing I could say would change that.

"You're not being fair, Mother," Zahar said.

He glanced at me. The pain in his eyes was evident, and not just from our argument. He had been fragile since his captivity. If no one else could see it, I could.

"She doesn't know what that word means."

My mother rolled her eyes. "Keya. You are clever and courageous. I know that. I just want you to think about the future. Yours, and the House's. Promise me you will reconsider Amankar's request."

I stared at her, and gave the briefest nod. "I'm going to visit Father," I said, sidling past her.

After seeing my father, who mercifully remembered me, I found Zahar on the training grounds with several of the House warriors. This time, his embrace was warmer, even if his sweat spotted my caftan. He left his sword and shield on a rack. We climbed stairs to a gallery that overlooked the other sparring men.

"I'm sorry about Mother," he said.

"It's not your fault. Nothing ever changes her mind." I looked down at the mask I held in my hands. This was one of the few places I in the world I would not wear it. Where I would not hide behind that golden face, lacking all compassion and conscience.

"Zahar, the villagers..."

"Say nothing more. I will speak to Seku. He knows who controls the future of House Oko."