Dark Requiem (The Darkling Trilogy, Book 3) (34 page)

Akan struck Alayai,
sending her flying to the ground. A cry escaped her lips. She rose
to her feet and cowered against the wall. Jow was immediately at
Alayai’s side, using her body to shield her.

“
Stop, please stop!” Jow
cried, a tremor in her voice, raw agony in her eyes.

“
I should wring your neck
for what you have done!” Akan said to Alayai.

At first Alayai had merely
been shocked he had struck her. Now anger flared, her face
darkening with fury even as she cowered behind Jow.

“
You dare to strike me? I
am a god! I will have you killed where you stand!”

He closed the space
between them, causing Jow to cry out, pulling Alayai to her so that
all of Alayai that could be seen was her face, her eyes wide with
fear, rage dancing behind that fear. Akan merely removed his blade
from beneath his robe and tossed it at Alayai’s feet.

“
If you want me dead, then
go ahead and kill me!”

Alayai merely stared at
him, her lip quivering as tears sprung to her eyes. Akan moved so
his face was inches from Alayai’s, his voice low when he spoke
again.

“
In the morning, you will
tell Mutata you will spare his son and end the ekniwa. Do you
understand?”

“
You do not tell me what
to do. I am your goddess—”

“
You will do it, Alayai!
Do you hear me?”

She was silent.

Akan left the room,
pausing at the door to glance briefly at the two of them. Jow was
shaking and there were tears streaming down her face as she held
Alayai to her, stroking her hair. In all the years he had been
coming to the temple at night, he had never realised until today
that Jow most probably loved Alayai as much as he did. Even now,
Alayai was oblivious to it, her face puckered in petulant anger as
she glared at Akan.

He sighed and moved out of
the room to go to Seng. Akan gave the boy the antidote to
counteract the ekniwa, but it was a few hours before the boy
stopped screaming. He lay trembling, his eyes vacant, thick drool
seeping from his lips.

When Akan exited the room
into the main chamber of the temple, Alayai was sitting before the
altar waiting for him, a tearful Jow by her side. Jow had her arms
wrapped around the child. Akan gave Alayai a long, cool stare
before he moved to the hidden door.

“
Akan,” Alayai called, her
voice sounding small.

He continued walking
toward the hidden entrance.

“
Father
.” There was a tremor in her voice.

He paused at the hidden
entrance for a few moments before he opened it and entered the
tunnel that would take him out of the temple.

Outside in the muggy, warm
air, he struggled to contain his conflicting emotions. There was
pride at that word Alayai had uttered before he left the temple.
Father. But he was still furious with her and at the heart of that
anger was fear. He had seen the faces of the elders earlier that
day. They were not happy with what she had done. They had watched
her goad and torment Mutata for years, but she had crossed the line
this time.

As he walked home, he
noticed the rains that had beset the village and the crops had
stopped. But too late. A good harvest was unlikely to save Alayai
the next time Mutata tried to denounce her as a false
god.

Akan moved through the
dark, silent streets, his chest heavy, his stomach churning with
anxiety. He had to believe there was still a way to save
her.

***

The following morning he
arrived at the temple long before it opened to find Mutata waiting
outside, praying. Akan felt stirrings of sympathy, but he could not
give into it for Alayai’s life was still in danger.

Inside, Alayai was
triumphant and utterly without compassion for her fallen
foe.

“
Mutata, my loyal
servant,” she cooed to him. “Your goddess has decided to spare your
son’s life. You may take him home.”

Mutata merely stared at
the wasted form of his son, who lay quivering on the floor before
him, drool running down his chin, his eyes blank.

The other elders all
looked at the boy with similar expressions of revulsion at the
pitiful sight before them.

There was an unspoken
accusation in their gazes whenever they cast them in Alayai’s
direction. She remained brazen in her lack of remorse and met the
accusation in their eyes with a challenge.

None dared meet it,
especially since the rains had ceased.

Although Akan was angry
with Alayai, his heart was eased. She was safe for another
year.

She was safe.

Perhaps Akan could have
continued to protect Alayai from Mutata indefinitely, but it seemed
Alayai’s fate—and that of the Enwa people—had been sealed long ago.
Maybe the gods themselves chose to punish Akan for his cowardice in
not doing what he had wanted to do ever since he saw the child
goddess: Free her from the suffocating temple. Or perhaps they
sought to punish Alayai for subjecting a child to the ekniwa. Maybe
they merely wanted to punish her for daring to believe she really
was the earthly incarnation of the goddess of the moon. Either way,
the heavens themselves moved to seal the child goddess’s
fate.

The heavens spoke at
midday. It was a warm, humid day. The harvest was over and a
celebration planned for that night which would be filled with much
merriment, food and dancing.

Akan was near the fields
when someone pointed at the sky.

“
What is that?”

He realised then that an
eerie silence crouched in the village. He had not been aware of it
before, but the sound of the birds singing had gradually become
quieter. Now they were completely silent and there was a hateful
waiting in that silence.

He looked up and knew the
day he had been dreading had arrived. The sun was a dazzling golden
ball, but something, some cold, dark fury was eating into the
golden sphere. Someone screamed as icy fear washed through Akan.
Several people got to their knees to cower beneath the sky, scared
to even look at the sight above them. Others could not tear their
eyes away from it and gazed into the face of death, their mouths
hanging open.

“
It is as it was
foretold!” someone screamed. “The days of darkness are here. We’re
all going to die!”

Those words spurred Akan
into action. He looked to the path that would take him to his wife
and children, who were surely filled with terror at the sky above
being eaten away.

Then he turned and fled
toward the temple and Alayai.

By the time Akan reached
the temple, nearly half the sun had been devoured. A heavy gloom
lay on the village, along with an ominous chill that had descended
around him and wormed its way into his soul.

He found Alayai sitting
before the altar, her small face pale with terror. Many people had
sought sanctuary in the temple and were cowering, screaming and
praying in terror, begging the goddess to save them.

“
Please do not be
frightened. I am your goddess,” Alayai said. “Trust in me and I
will not let anything happen to you. Please listen to me. What you
have seen means nothing. You must trust me.”

The words of comfort were
undermined by the violent tremors that shook her tiny frame along
with the fact that even within the temple, that chill had gathered
like malevolent spirits thirsting for blood and the very air
whispered of malice.

Relief crossed Alayai’s
features when she saw Akan. He went to the altar and it took all
his willpower not to take her into his arms and run away. But they
would never be able to escape the heavens taking their revenge on
the Enwa people. Instead, he kneeled before her.

“
Goddess...I...”

His words trailed away,
for there was nothing he could say. The heavens had spoken, the
prophecy was coming to pass.

It seemed an age, endless
moments filled with unimaginable fear and despair, before they
realised whatever had eaten the sun was now passing over
it.

“
It has ended,” someone
declared. “It was the moon. The moon fought with the sun, but the
sun scared it away. We will not die. We are saved.”

Relief poured through the
temple, but it did not touch Akan’s heart, or Alayai, who was still
trembling.

“
But what did it mean?”
another asked.

Everyone was looking at
Alayai, whose face was completely pale in the dim light in the
temple. She jumped as if she had been struck when Mutata and Akuna
entered the temple.

Her gaze still on Mutata
and with fear alight in her eyes, she spoke.

“
It means nothing. Believe
in me, that is all I ask of you. What you saw meant
nothing.”

“
It means for years we
have been led astray by one who has the audacity to call herself a
goddess,” Mutata spat, his face red and twisted with rage. “No one
can deny what we saw. The gods are angry at being denied sacrifices
and it is all because of the false god you see before
you!”

Mutata made a move toward
Alayai only to come to an abrupt halt when Akan blocked his path.
Akan removed the robe he always wore and placed a hand on the
dagger at his hip.

Mutata’s face went slack,
his eyes on the dagger.

“
Dare utter another word
against the divine one and I will slit your throat,” Akan hissed.
“Listen to her. She said it meant nothing.”

“
H-he is right,” Jow said,
the first time Akan had heard her speak during the day when
everyone was present. “We must listen to the divine one. She has
never led us astray.”

Mutata took a step back,
his gaze on Akan, his eyes assessing him as if he saw something no
one else could see.

“
We are listening,
Goddess
,” Mutata finally
said, his gaze still on Akan, his mouth turned into a sneer. “Tell
us what we must do to appease the gods.”

Alayai was looking from
Akan to Mutata, the tremors running through her growing more
violent. When she gazed at the scars on Akan’s chest and arms, her
face creased with that perceived pain he had seen the first time
she saw his scarred flesh. This time fear lurked behind it bringing
tears to her eyes. She was staring at Akan when she
spoke.

“
We...we have to appease
the gods with sacrifices. Fifty—no—one hundred sacrifices are
required to appease the gods or the prophecy will come to
pass.”

At the mention of
sacrifices, Mutata finally tore his gaze away from Akan and to
Alayai, his lips still curled in a sneer.

Akuna spoke. “Sacrifices.
The gods demand sacrifices. One hundred men women and children have
to be selected.”

Akuna moved to the door.
Mutata glared at Akan, a faint smile on his lips. Mutata walked out
of the temple, no doubt knowing it was only a matter of time—most
likely days—before he would get what he had waited years for: The
death of the child he had made a god.

When he had gone, Alayai
turned to Akan. She stared at him for a long moment, her face
sombre.

“
I wish I had seen Essa.
It is all I can think of, to have seen her so I can hold the memory
of your faces when...when...” She looked away from him, her face
hard. “I order you to leave the temple and help them select the
sacrifices. Take Jow and Topa with you.”

Akan gaped at her and
anger immediately made heat flush his face.

She was telling Akan to
leave and take his family away from the village. He realised now it
had been a mistake to take off his robe at that moment. Mutata now
knew Akan had been helping Alayai all these years. Letting Alayai
see his scars at that moment had scared her into demanding
sacrifices in order to distract Mutata.

Akan was silent for a long
moment, then he kneeled before the child goddess, trembling in
anger that his actions had once more caused Alayai to make a
decision that put her in danger.

When he got to his feet,
he looked to Jow standing in a corner of the temple. Her gaze was
determined when it met his. She too had understood what Alayai was
trying to do, but he knew she would not leave without her child
goddess.

Akan moved to Topa and
took the bewildered girl by the arm. He did not give her a chance
to argue, but pulled her toward the temple door. He paused at the
entrance to look back at Alayai.

Her gaze was on him, her
face set in an impenetrable mask. He was sure if he had been close
enough, he would have seen that her eyes were filled with tears.
The snake wrapped around his heart trembled as he turned and walked
out of the temple, dragging Topa with him, leaving Alayai alone and
unprotected.

***

Although the phenomenon
which saw the sun disappear from the sky had ended, the levels of
panic outside the temple had not abated. Fear spread through the
village like a fiery serpent as the guards began to round up the
one hundred men, women and children that were to be sacrificed.
People were in various stages of distress and terror, some claiming
to have had their eyesight stolen by the sky gods. Akan barely
registered what was happening around him, his thoughts on Alayai
unprotected in the temple.