He did not speak to them.He could not.What words existed for this?Should he apologise for their oversight?Even then, the only reason he felt compelled to apologise was because they were Borjigin children, who should’ve been protected by their own laws.
Behind him, the door crashed open.
The Elder of Justice filled the frame, his sword drawn, his men fanning out behind him.He stopped as the stench hit him, making him heave.
The room was a slaughterhouse.Blood sprayed the walls, pooled on the floor, and painted the cage railings.And in the centre of it, a creature out of a nightmare—tall, scaled, horned, tail lashing—stood amid the carnage like a god of vengeance given flesh.
The Elder's sword lowered slightly.His eyes found the children.
His own people.His own blood.Trafficked like animals, caged like beasts, waiting to be sold to foreigners, to unknown fates.
A laugh escaped the Elder's lips.It was not a pleasant sound—ragged, broken, rising from somewhere deep and wounded.He laughed and laughed, and when he stopped, his face settled into something cold.
"You couldn’t wait, could you?"He asked; his voice would’ve struck fear into the hearts of normal men."Your Highness?"
The Djinn’s glowing eyes sent a chill down his men’s spines."My Kihaana wished to impeach him today; you were taking too long."
The elder held his gaze, then pulled away."Send word to the Igwe.Sound the gong."His voice was iron."And send a detachment to the Iyom's family home.Arrest him.If he resists, kill him."
The men hesitated only a moment—long enough to register the order, long enough to understand what it meant.Then they scattered.
The Elder turned back to the children who stared at him, shaking so badly the whole room rattled.
"We've come to save you," he said quietly."Thanks to his Highness’s grace."
The children turned to look at the Djinn, his bones snapping as his height decreased by a few inches.His scaled arms returned to their usual brown, and the blue light in his eyes faded.
It was best they remembered his human face, rather than the other.
“Inspect and clear this place,” Borji ordered.“I will return soon enough.”
Chidinma moved one inch at a time.Somadina's breathing continued its deep, satisfied rhythm behind her, undisturbed as she climbed out of bed.
The chamber was dark except for the sliver of moonlight through the high window.It found her husband's face on the bed—slack in sleep and peaceful in his uselessness.She looked at him for a long moment.At the hands that had held her down.At the lips that kissed her.At the body that had taken what it wanted without remorse.
She gagged, covered her mouth quickly, and turned away.
The vomit came in the washing chamber, her body rejecting what her mind had already accepted.She gripped the edge of the clay basin and emptied her stomach until there was nothing left but spasms and the taste of bile.Her hands trembled against the clay.
She washed her mouth with water from the pot, then she washed her face.She looked in the small bronze mirror and saw a woman she recognised.
The woman looked back at her with empty eyes.
Chidinma dressed in the dark.
Black cloth, close-fitting – she'd had the same set since she turned sixteen a year ago.Her father had it custom-made for her so she wouldn't have to use the hand-sewn one she'd made herself.The viper armband went on last.It was her identifier; that way her head wouldn't roll when Madame Varkesh's girls found her.
The palace wall took her weight easily.The loose stone gave way to a foothold.The other side held darkness and the smell of the city beyond.
She dropped into the alley—black satchel at her waist—and did not look back.
The drinkhouse near the eastern gate blazed with light and noise, laughter spilling through its open doors.Chidinma circled wide, keeping to shadows, until she reached the mouth of the alley where the empty barrels waited.
She did not enter alone.
Three figures detached themselves from the darkness beside her—women in black cloth, their eyes lined with kohl beneath their head dressing.They moved without sound, without hesitation, without the slightest acknowledgement that Chidinma walked amongst them.
Nyraxa's girls.
