Rena Barron - Kingdom of Souls

I ease out a sigh when we reach the fish merchants, and Rudjek gives me a reassuring smile. Kofi stands on his crate covered in scales. He smells atrocious, but he’s okay. He grins at me and then rolls his eyes at Rudjek. Same old Kofi.

‘How goes business?’ I force brightness in my voice. ‘Selling like hotcakes?’

‘Terra bought seven threadfish this morning.’ Kofi glances at his father, who’s haggling with a patron over the price of shrimp. ‘I gave her an eighth one for free since you’re good customers.’

Rudjek leans close to my ear. ‘Is that little runt flirting with you?’

Kofi crosses his arms and scowls at Rudjek, standing face to face from his vantage point on the crate. ‘You going to buy something or what?’

‘Should I challenge him to a match in the arena?’ Rudjek looks sideways at me. ‘I’ll do it with my eyes covered to make it fair.’

Time to go.

I flip Kofi a silver coin and he catches it mid-air. ‘Stay close to your father and be careful, okay?’

‘I will.’ Kofi looks at his father, who is keeping eyes on him and the two exchange a nod. ‘Promise.’

‘See you later, Kofi.’ I say before dragging Rudjek away.

‘I’ll get him a guard.’ Rudjek pitches his voice low so only I can hear him. ‘I know I can’t do much, but at least I can make sure he’s safe. I wish I could do it for the other children too.’ He scratches the back of his neck. ‘As future Vizier, I should be able to do something useful for once.’

I beam at Rudjek. He’ll be a better Vizier than his father one day. Now that I know Kofi will be okay, my fear eases a little. But then a Familiar slinks across my shoulder, and I stop cold. A tremble shoots down my spine, leaving my skin prickling with ice in the midday heat. More Familiars rush behind me – a horde of them. My breath catches in my throat as I whirl about. A dozen swarm around Kofi, slithering across his face, arms, legs, like a cloak of nightmares.

Their meaning is unmistakable. The child snatcher isn’t finished.

My friend is next.

Arti sits across from me at the low table in our salon, staring at a wall as she stirs her fish soup. She hasn’t said one word. Though she’s never one for small talk, she’s especially quiet tonight. Worry lines crease her face; she looks tired and worn, and it makes me worry too. For the first time I can recall, there are dark circles under her eyes, as if she’s not slept in days. It’s moments like these that I remind myself that although my mother can be cold, she isn’t unfeeling.

Her face shows signs that she’s been hard at work performing rituals. Trying to uncover the child snatcher. I shouldn’t have doubted my mother. Of course she would help.

We sat down to our evening meal only moments ago, but I can’t stop squeezing my hands between my knees. I tell myself that Kofi has a guard now. He’ll be okay. I’ve never been more thankful for Rudjek’s familial ties to the Vizier than today. He put the word out, and within half a bell, there was a guard at Kofi’s side. A gendar, one of the elite soldiers from the Almighty Army. Still, I can’t wait until morning so I can go check on him myself. I promised I would look out for him.

Oshhe clears his throat at the head of the table, interrupting my thoughts. ‘I take it things aren’t going well at the Temple.’

Arti blinks as if clearing the cobwebs from her mind, a weak smile crossing her lips. She reaches for his hand and he reaches for hers. A look of longing, of sadness, of something lost, passes between my parents. ‘I wish things could be different,’ she says, her voice quiet.

My father smiles, resignation in his words, a sense of defeat. ‘As do I.’

Ty bustles into the salon with Terra on her heels and my parents move apart. Our matron snatches up Oshhe’s bowl, and still-hot soup spills on her hands and apron. She doesn’t notice as she roughly puts the bowl on the empty tray in Terra’s arms and moves to take Arti’s. My father and I exchange a glance, and dread crawls through my belly. Ty’s eyes are blank. She might as well be leagues away when she’s like this. She’s retreated someplace deep in her mind, where the horror that haunts her has taken hold.

‘Ty, will you eat with us tonight?’ Oshhe offers, his deep voice gentle. ‘Terra can take care of the dishes.’

Families of status frown upon an attendant joining the household for meals. I didn’t know that for the longest time, since it’s commonplace for Nezi and Ty to eat with us. It came up in a conversation with Rudjek after my twelfth birth day. He was so excited upon hearing this that he asked his mother if his attendants could eat with them. He got a firm talking-to from his mother, and later a tongue-lashing from his father.

Ty doesn’t accept or decline my father’s invitation. She brushes away breadcrumbs from the table, her hands trembling. Terra puts the tray down and slips out to get Nezi. That used to be my job before she came. Whenever Ty had an episode, I’d run for Nezi, the only one who can calm her. The episodes always pass in time, but it’s hard to see her like this.

‘The soup was exceptional tonight,’ I comment, trying to bring her back. ‘It’s your best yet.’

She grunts, but her lips don’t move, and silence eats her words. I wonder if the news about the children disappearing has upset her. By the time she’s done clearing the table, her skin is grey. She stops cold and Arti goes rigid across from me too. Ty backs into a corner, shaking her head, her eyes as wide as two battered copper coins.

‘You’ve only to ask, Ty,’ Arti says, her voice wound tight. ‘And I can make it go away.’

I bite my lip and clench my fists between my knees. Like Grandmother, one of Arti’s gifts is to manipulate the mind, but there’s a limit to her powers. She can’t make memories go away forever, only bury them for a time. Ty doesn’t answer Arti either.

When Nezi hobbles into the salon with Terra on her heels, I ease out a breath. Her gaze rakes over us, a grimace painting her face. Ty is the oldest of our household and Nezi is next. Her black locs are streaked through with silver and stick up every which way. I stare at her scarred hands, gnarled and crooked like tree roots. She used to tell me that she burned them while plucking magic from the sky.

‘I’m here.’ Nezi’s husky voice echoes in the room. She doesn’t approach Ty; that’ll only make it worse. I learned that the hard way at a very young age. Nezi scratches at her old scars. She always does when she’s upset or agitated. ‘Do you want Arti to help you?’

Ty’s head snaps around, her eyes landing on her friend. There’s understanding between the two. Some secret language that the other women of my household speak, but I’m not privy to. Ty blinks her answer, her nails clawing into the stone wall, her breath coming out sharp and short. Soon the feather touch of my mother’s magic tingles against my skin. It sweeps through the room, and Ty squeezes her eyes shut and lets out a long groan before growing calm again.

While Ty’s recovering, my father tells Terra to take away the dishes. By the time she returns, Ty has already slipped from her corner, her strict matron mask back in place. She and Terra serve our next dish: pepper-crusted broiled fish and mint rice. Ty dips her head to Arti, who returns the gesture. There’s a shadow of peace on our matron’s face as she retreats back to the kitchen with Nezi and Terra. I can’t help but feel relieved too.

Arti looks so very tired. Magic takes from all – even the powerful. She sighs, her skin sallow, her eyes even more red-rimmed. But she’ll recover: unlike charlatans who borrow magic, it doesn’t take my mother’s years. It gladly answers her call. Oshhe looks tired too. He always does after a long day. We’re only halfway through our meal, and I’m still shaking from the episode with Ty, when Oshhe announces, ‘I must leave in the morning to hunt for a white ox.’