Dark Requiem (The Darkling Trilogy, Book 3) (35 page)

He hurried to his home,
dragging Topa with him.

He arrived to find Rutia
in their sleeping space, Essa and Tanu held tight to
her.

“
You do not need to be
afraid. It is over. Whatever it was, it has ended,” Akan
said.

Essa ran into her father’s
arms, even Tanu moved to him and embraced him. Rutia just stood
watching Akan. She burst into tears.

“
Rutia.” Akan broke away
from Tanu and Essa and took hold of Rutia’s arms. “Please, I have
never seen you cry in all the time you have been my wife. Please, I
need you to be strong now because you have to leave. The goddess is
demanding sacrifices and we do not know how many Mutata will kill.”
He began moving around the room, gathering things for them to
take.

“
I came across a group of
nomads in the woods three days before. They were camped by the
river. They will be there for a few more days before they move
north. If you hurry you will be able to catch them there and go
with them. You will be safe with them.”

“
But what about you?” Tanu
asked.

Akan stopped and stared at
his son.

“
The goddess asked that
you take them to safety, Tanu. She did not say I should also leave.
Only you and them.” Akan took hold of Tanu by the shoulders in a
firm grip. “Promise me—promise the goddess—you will take them to
safety.”

He nodded and Akan could
see he was trying to fight back tears.

They left with Topa and
their servants, taking only what they could carry. Akan went with
them as far as the edge of the woods. Under the thinning light
within the trees, he held Essa in his arms for a long moment before
he handed her to Rutia. He embraced Tanu and then his wife. Tears
flowed down his face as he watched them move away farther into the
woodlands until they were out of sight.

When Akan returned to the
temple that evening, there were guards stationed outside all of the
temple entrances including the secret tunnels which Akan had hoped
he could use to get Alayai to safety. There were also guards
stationed within the temple. Alayai did not appear to be surprised
to see him although tears filled her eyes. When he knelt before
her, she placed her hand on his head. It remained there for less
than a second, but it spoke so clearly to him of the bond they
shared, and also of what their expectations were of what the coming
days would bring.

***

The next few weeks saw the
town descend to levels of blood and death that sickened Akan.
Sacrifice after sacrifice after sacrifice was offered up to the
gods, but still the spectre of the moon passing before the face of
the sun like an angry god would not leave the Enwa people. Soon
they stopped bothering to bring the sacrifices to the altar and
just began slaughtering them in the streets. They also performed
the ekniwa many times, but on each occasion, the ekniwa only threw
forth screaming, blank-eyed madmen. No answers could be gleaned
from them or what the portent they had all witnessed
signified.

With the entire village
gripped in fear and frenzy for blood, the sacrifices continued.
Those who were able to flee undetected did so. Those who tried to
flee and were caught were tied to posts in the middle of the
village. Their entrails were cut out and they were left to die
slow, painful deaths. Through it all Akan remained at the goddess’s
side, the only light amid the darkness was the thought of his
family far from the blood, the screams that could be heard even in
the temple and the bodies that met his gaze whenever he peered
outside the temple doors.

However, Akan was not
surprised when Tanu entered the temple after the second week
looking travel weary, his kilt still covered with dust and grime
from his journey. Akan merely went to his son and placed his hands
on his shoulders. He pulled him into an embrace.

“
Are they—?”

“
Yes,” Tanu answered. “We
found the nomads almost straight away. I stayed with them for
another day before I returned. When this is over I am sure we can
find them again.”

Akan nodded. Essa and
Rutia were safe. Perhaps he could hope that what Tanu said would
come to be. This would all end and he, Tanu and Alayai could leave
the village and be reunited with Rutia and Essa. But looking at the
guards whose gazes never left Alayai, or out at the blood-smeared
village, the corpses nailed to the posts or lying in the streets,
Akan found it difficult to see anything other than death and
misery, but he would continue to hope.

Akan knew Alayai was
pleased to see Tanu, although she could not show it. Her eyes
rarely left Tanu’s over the course of the next few
weeks.

Akan and Tanu remained in
the temple by the side of the terrified child goddess. But they
both knew that when Mutata satisfied his lust for blood, he would
return to the temple and exact his vengeance on the child everyone
believed had brought about this calamity on the Enwa
people.

After weeks of violence
and anarchy, the elders called a meeting in the temple. Akan had
not slept for more than a few hours a night during those weeks—much
like everyone else who still remained in the near empty village. He
began that day prepared for battle, but hoped the meeting would see
an end to the bloodshed.

Surprisingly, Mutata was
not the one to speak. Akuna was.

“
It is clear the gods are
angry with the Enwa people, and after much thought, we realise
what, or who, is responsible. We need only look at your eyes to
know you have brought this disaster on us, Goddess. Only your death
can save us and make the gods return their favour to us.” He turned
to six guards armed with daggers. “Take her outside to the
sacrificial altar.”

They moved toward
her.

Akan was on his feet, as
quick as a cobra. His knife was swift and true, delivering its
clean justice with two short thrusts. One across the neck of the
first man, the other into the heart of the second. The others were
at first too shocked to react and that earned the third man a quick
thrust to the stomach. From the corner of his eye, Akan saw Tanu at
the altar—dagger in hand—pulling Alayai off the platform and toward
the secret passage at the rear of the temple. Alayai’s anguished
gaze never left Akan.

The possibility of having
their prey snatched from their grasp plucked the other three guards
out of their stupor. They descended on Akan. He sprung back from a
blade aimed at his throat and caught the man’s wrist, slashing his
stomach with his blade. The man doubled over in pain, his hands
meeting to cup the blood spilling from the wound. Akan lunged
forward only to stagger to a stop when a sharp pain flared along
his lower back. Intense burning raged from that point, spreading to
the rest of his torso.

“
Akan
!”

It was Alayai he heard
scream his name. She was dragging Tanu to a stop. Tanu glanced
behind him at his father. The boy’s face paled and despair drew his
features into a tight knot. The dagger he held clattered to the
ground. Another guard moved with lightning speed and buried his
knife in Akan’s chest. Another stabbed him in the stomach, bringing
him to his knees.

Three other guards ran
after Tanu and the goddess. Tanu’s gaze was locked on his father as
Alayai tore loose from him, running straight into their pursuers,
her gaze on Akan as he fell onto his back. Tears streamed down her
face and her mouth was open in an oval of anguish. Tanu darted
after her. He didn’t see one of the guards until he barrelled into
him from his left, knocking him to the ground. The guard’s blade
seemed to move of its own accord when it slid across Tanu’s throat.
The boy brought his hand to his neck, trying to stem the blood
gushing from the wound. The goddess was snatched up in the arms of
one of the guards. She screamed, but then her eyes narrowed in
spite and anger. She clawed at the guard’s face. He cried out,
loosening his hold on her. She fell to the ground, only to be
caught up in the arms of a second guard from behind. He crushed her
in a bear hug whilst the first guard lifted her by her feet. She
fought and kicked at the one who held her feet, succeeding in
landing a blow to his face. Her sharp white teeth sank into the
forearm of the one who held her in a bear hug. He howled in
anger.

In the end it was not the
efforts of the two guards that subdued Alayai. Her anguished gaze
fell on Akan and then the dying boy on the ground. When Tanu’s
hands slipped from his throat to lie lifeless by his sides, his
gaze going vacant, Alayai grew limp in the arms of her captors and
let out a long wrenching scream that resonated through the
temple.

Akan felt any joy he had
ever had in life leave with the spirit of his child. His heart was
still beating, his eyes were open as blood gushed from his wounds,
but he was already dead.

The goddess was still
screaming.

Mutata came to stand over
Akan.

“
I should have known you
were the one who helped her all these years.”

Mutata spat on
Akan.

“
Kill her,” Mutata said to
the men holding the limp goddess, his tone self-righteous in his
long awaited moment of vengeance. “Cut her into pieces. Scatter the
remains so her spirit will be an outcast, doomed to the
underworld.”

“
Kill me, but you will
never be free of my spirit. I am the goddess, the gatekeeper
between worlds. Time is my servant. I will return and kill you all
before sending you to the underworld where you will be the
plaything of the vacoma for all of eternity.”

Her face twisted in
anguish, the hatred gone out of her eyes as they came to rest on
Akan who was grimacing in pain, his breath coming out in sharp, hot
bursts as his blood spread along the temple floor. Akan stared at
Alayai, his eyes bright with tears which slid down his face even as
he tried to lift himself off the ground so he could go to her
aid.

“
Akan, Akan,” she
cried.

Akan didn’t see the first
blow that struck her. He only heard a strangled cry and saw her
tiny body dashed to the temple floor. She lifted her head, blood
gushing from the wound and spilling down her face, her eyes
searching for Akan’s. Her face fell slack and her mouth fell open
when one of the guards smashed a rock against her head.

Her eyes rolled into their
sockets. She grew limp, her face crashing into the temple floor.
Akan closed his eyes when he saw the same guard kneel before her
lifeless body, the rock held aloft. But Akan could not block out
the sickening crunching thuds he could hear as the guard repeatedly
smashed the rock against her head.

Akan tried to whisper
Alayai’s name, but the strength that had seen him win countless
battles finally departed and a veil of darkness fell over
him.

It was a long time before
the darkness receded. Akan awoke to see a thin sliver of light and
then Jow kneeling before him, her hands working at one of his
wounds. He appeared to be in the little room Alayai slept in. Jow
seemed unaware of the tears trailing down her cheeks. Akan gasped
in pain and she halted, her gaze darting to his face.

“
Akan?”

“
Alayai?” His voice was a
scratchy whisper.

“
They killed her. They
killed the goddess. The village is deserted now. Only the two of us
remain with the dead.”

Pain seized him. He saw
Alayai’s battered body and Tanu as his hands slipped from his torn
throat. Akan grimaced in pain and a veil began to
descend.

“
Akan!” Jow cried. “You
cannot die. I will not let you die. Only you can call her spirit
back. You were the only one she listened to. You can call her
spirit back from the underworld so she will find peace.”

The world faded away along
with his pain.

***

It took many months for
Akan’s battered body to heal, but against all the odds he did
heal.

The first day he was able
to step outside the temple, he almost collapsed when he saw the
streets littered with rotting bodies. The stench that filled his
nostrils made him gag, only to gasp in pain. Jow quickly helped him
back inside the temple.

Eventually he was strong
enough to begin the long process of burying the dead, a labour that
took many months. They hoped they would find the remains of the
goddess and bury it, bringing her lost spirit back from the
underworld. But Mutata had clearly been diligent in exacting his
vengeance on the child goddess and they found nothing that might
even come close to resembling Alayai. Not a piece of her robe or
even a lock of her hair.

Akan’s devastation was
total, his waking moments filled with images of Alayai in the
clutches of the beasts of the underworld few had glimpsed without
being driven completely insane. His nights were an endless montage
of those moments in the temple when he had watched his son and
Alayai die.

Akan and Jow remained in
the deserted village long after the dead were buried, keeping a
vigil at the temple, offering up prayers to the true goddess of the
moon to save the soul of the child goddess. Akan was certain the
prayers went unanswered. He felt it in his soul. Alayai’s pain was
a living thing taunting him. Rutia and Essa were long gone and
perhaps Akan could have tried to find them, but he could no more
abandon Alayai in death than he could when she was alive. Jow
stayed because she had no one, only the child goddess. Throughout
the years Akan had only ever had a glimpse of Jow’s enduring love
for the child the night he struck Alayai. Jow had been too afraid
to show it with any kind of affection, not even a word or a touch.
Now the child was dead and Jow’s grief was as deep and wrenching as
Akan’s.