Kamsi hummed, as if contemplating."I’m not sure; why else would it find us anytime we leave the house?"
Azul looked back over her shoulder before quickly turning away."Then, what should we sacrifice to be rid of it?"
Azul’s golden eyes opened; the sun had vanished behind storm clouds as rain poured down past her window.
To invoke the name of one's chi, a sacrifice was necessary.
The sacrifice must struggle, futilely, until it had given up on living.It was an uncomfortable thought, as she could still feel Somadina’s hands around her throat.Did she, in her very last moments, give up on living?
Looking down, she saw the open letter on her lap; the letter she fell asleep reading.
She put away the letter from the Ameachi prince, reminding herself she would have to burn it later to be rid of the evidence.
Her eyes moved to her bed, to the space between the wood and the ground below.The little snake had entered a strange sort of sleep since it returned with Chidinma and hadn’t come out from the only dark, cool location in the room.
Perhaps it will shed,she considered as a yawn came over her.
“Akwaugo!”Nkiru peered in, her bright eyes lifting Azul’s mood.“The First Prince is back!Oh!The Great Khan came to visit too!”
The shop was in the merchant quarter, tucked between a spice vendor and a tailor's stall; it was the kind of place you passed a hundred times without noticing.A wooden sign hung above the door, its paint faded, its lettering worn: Obiechina Fine Goods.
Azul stood before it, cloak shielding her from the rain, reading the name.Obiechina.The Iyom's family name.
"What is this place?"
Borji didn't answer.He pushed open the door.
The interior was exactly what the sign promised: shelves of imported fabrics, a counter that ran along one wall, and behind it, a door that led to what she assumed was a storage room.
Her brother took the lead, and Azul watched Ragnar follow suit; she looked around once more before following both of them.The storage room was larger than she expected, stacked high with crates and barrels.Another door at the back.Another corridor.The air changed as they walked, growing cooler and damper as they descended.
Soon a metallic tang assaulted their noses, and Azul felt her stomach churn.
Blood.
So much blood, it made breathing unbearable.
They emerged into a space that stopped her cold.
Steel cages lined the walls, stacked three high, their doors hanging open.Dung-covered straw covered the floor, mixed with scraps of cloth, broken clay bowls, and things she couldn’t even identify.The smell was overwhelming—waste and death soaked into the very stones, which remained damp and cold to the touch.
Guards moved through the space, their faces grim, cloth covering their mouths and noses.They carried buckets of water and rough cloths, scrubbing at the walls, the floor, and the cages.When they saw Azul, their eyes dropped immediately, unable to meet her gaze.
“Here,” Borji said, handing her a piece of cloth to tie around her lower face.“It helps.”
Past the cleaning guards, they only entered more corridors that led to more rooms with more cages."How many?"She asked.
"Five hundred and forty-three," Borji said behind her."Alive."
"Dead?"
“We’re still searching for the mass grave they used.”
Five hundred and forty-three children were stolen from their families, caged like animals, and sold to the highest bidder.And at the centre of it all, the Iyom's father grew rich on their suffering.
Something touched Azul’s consciousness—a whisper, faint but insistent.She frowned, turning her head, trying to locate it.
"What is it?"Ragnar moved closer, his tone tinged with worry.
