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When his eyes widen with hurt, I grab his hands. “But I’ve always wanted you. More than anything, I’ve wanted you.” I look up at him. “You’re not a need, Keita, you’re not an obligation to me. What you are is my happiness, my delight. When I didn’t believe that there was good in the world, there was you. You’re my comfort and joy, and I hope I’m the same for you.”
As Keita continues to watch me, I inch closer, wrap my arms around him. “I know you fear the future—I fear it too—but this is our present. We’re together now. We’re here now. In this moment, there’s only me and you.
“The future will come no matter what we do, but for now, please don’t push me away, Keita. I’m here. I’ll be here for as long as I can.”
The moments pass, Keita’s body stiff in my embrace. Then slowly, surely, his muscles relax and his hands creep around me. “I can’t breathe,” he rasps, a pained admission. “I’m here—right where they are, and I can’t breathe. I can’t go in there, Deka, I can’t. I can’t, I can’t, I ca—”
“Shhh….” I stroke his back. “You don’t have to go in.”
“But the jatu and Melanis and the world…” His voice is near to breaking now.
“The world can wait, and so can we. We’ll wait for as long as you want, as long as you need, until you get your breath again. We’ll just sit here.” I lower myself to the floor, pulling Keita down beside me.
He tries to protest again. “But your kelai and Melanis and—”
“All just distractions,” I say, wrapping my arms around him and making small, slow circles on his back. “Right now, there’s only you and me. That’s all that matters. All that matters….”
Keita nods, drops his head on top of mine. And we remain there in silence, the evening shadows growing around us. Wrapping us in their comfort.
Until it’s finally time for us to rise again and step into the summer house.
* * *
Power buzzes through the mansion. If I didn’t feel it fully before, I feel it now, the low, intense thrumming that vibrates through me the moment I step foot across the threshold. My breath hitches, suddenly caught in my throat. It’s all I can do not to shiver. I’ve been in countless ruins before, some thousands of years old, but never have I felt anything like this. This place—it’s alive with energy.
Just like the outside, the interior of the house is pristine. The heavy stone tables with scenes from ancient legends carved into them still have gold accentuating their edges. The chairs still have their exquisitely embroidered cushions. Sheer curtains still line the massive sliding doors, which have been built in the Southern style to funnel air through the interior.
Except there’s no breeze.
It takes a few minutes for me to notice that. There should, at the very least, be a soft breeze dancing across the curtains. And dust motes should sparkle in the last embers of the dying sunlight. But there’s nothing—not even the faintest odor.
“It’s like it’s frozen,” Keita says hollowly, glancing around. Then he notices something on one of the tables. He runs over, picks it up, and holds it to his chest.
“What is it?” I ask, walking closer.
“Mother’s comb,” he replies, holding up the large golden comb, whose handle has been shaped into a single flower. “She left it here the night that she—that she—”
Keita stops, when his breath hitches, and inhales to regain his control. “She left it here the night that she died,” he finally says, walking around the room as if remembering everything anew. “She’d been wearing it all day, but then she grew tired and left it here for her attendants. She didn’t realize they’d already been killed.”
There’s an expression on Keita’s face now, a horror. He walks down the entrance hall, his destination a small corridor I would never have noticed had he not been leading me toward it. There’s a dark staircase that winds upward from it: the servants’ stairs. I’ve seen them in all the homes of rich people I’ve visited.
I follow Keita as he continues talking.
“The emperor had just had some boxes delivered, you see,” he says, his voice echoing as he slowly walks up the stairs. “Gifts. Clothes and jewels and fabrics and such. For his favorite cousins.” He spits out this part bitterly before he continues. “Everyone was overjoyed at this display of the emperor’s favor. Mother’s attendants had spent the day unpacking the boxes. There were only a few left.
“So Mother came down, left the comb, called for her attendants. But no one answered.” Now Keita turns to me, his eyes burning in the darkness that is this small, oppressive staircase. “It was only when she walked back upstairs that she heard the shrieking.
“Sound travels up. That was what I learned that day.”
When he laughs bitterly again, my stomach twists. The look in his eyes now…the heat pouring off him…. I’m relieved when Keita turns one more corner and we exit into another perfectly preserved corridor. It’s clear we’re in his family’s private portion of the palace. Small bronze carvings hang from the walls, portraits of ancestors. But Keita continues onward as if he sees nothing but the path laid out in front of him.
The silence is so oppressive now, I know I have to shatter it before he disappears completely into his own mind. So I rush forward. “Are we almost there?” I ask quickly. “The place where it—”
“Happened?” Keita turns to me, his eyes bright. The fire in them is near to spilling out, an indication of just how strong his emotions are at the moment.
When I put my hands on his arm, I have to fight the urge to flinch away. Keita’s body is burning right now. If he weren’t wearing the heat-proof armor the Maiwurians gave him, his clothing would be in flames.
He nods. “Yes,” he says. “Yes, we are.”
