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The god Asase came to being as a grain of wheat. A single particle that bloomed into life.
The god Ewia flew in on wings of darkness to bring day and night to the world.
The last god to appear in the universe was Bosome. They moved through Asase’s roots creating rivers and seas before residing next to Ewia, a silver droplet of water in the sky that ebbed and flowed with the turning of tides. And so, the moon was born.
And for a time, all was well. But no matter how much the gods wished for peace, they had given their children the one thing that would never ensure it. Free will.
Yeeran was born on the battlefield, lived on the battlefield, and one day, she knew, she’d die on the battlefield. Her first breaths were tinged with the smoke
sound. But the most beautiful thing by far was the black drumskin. ‘From an obeah elder?’ Yeeran murmured, her hand running over the stretched leather. Obeah were the only creatures imbued with magic in the realm.
But it’s impossible to mask the aroma of a thousand-year war. It lived in the air, in the skin, in the very bones of the earth. Yeeran entered the circular room and stepped into the
How Lettle hated Salawa. She was the figurehead of the power structure that placed decorated soldiers above the common elf. In Salawa, Lettle found everything she loathed: the upper classes, authority, and violence. But her relationship with Yeeran had Lettle biting her tongue raw over the years.
Three years ago, he spoke of a prophecy that foretold the second coming of the fae. It was then that the diviners knew that his illness was progressing – the fae only lived in faerytales now.
It was from Imna’s prophecy journal, and at the top was Lettle’s name dated a few years prior. As she read, Imna spoke the words aloud in the hushed tones of the clandestine, ‘The one born of a storm’s mist shall be your beloved. But when the waning moon turns, you will grant them their death.’
But no matter what, they needed food and rest. They were still half a day’s walk from the Crescent district, which they’d have to pass through in order to leave the Elven Lands. Lettle hoped that they’d have no trouble there. The residual laws left over from Chieftain Akomido’s rule in Crescent were more oppressive than any other tribe. History now labelled Akomido as the Two-Bladed Tyrant, infamous for executing a hundred citizens who had been merely attempting to broker a peace treaty with him. There could be no peace after that.
Though he disappeared ten years ago, the district had suffered from the penalties imposed by the other three tribes. Brutal sanctions and plummeting trade left the country destabilised. Lettle hadn’t been there for years, not since her father had taken them hunting in the woodland on the other side of Crescent’s border.
‘My favourite was the story of the Wandering Human. Do you know it?’ Lettle nodded, though she didn’t tell him that it was her favourite faerytale too. It told the story of the last human left alive by the mercy of the fae, to wander the world alone. Until their death.
Once she reclaimed her thoughts, she withdrew her prophecy journal. She wrote down the words of the Fates, the action giving the foretelling meaning. Under a waxing moon that no one can see, when the sun flares and twilight reigns. A burdened partnership will die when poison passes their lips. One gilded, one pearl.
‘We’ve only the one, the others are booked.’ Though she didn’t look concerned in the least. ‘Booked by who?’ Rayan said, stepping into the gaslight.
to life casting one side of his face in flickering shadows. ‘The first thing he did was clear the jails of prisoners of war. But he didn’t release them, no, that would have been a mercy.’ His eyelids shuttered closed, reliving memories Lettle couldn’t see.
‘You came back.’ He let out a sigh that held a smile in it. ‘I did.’
The knowledge enhanced Afa’s power, and when they returned to the Fae Lands, he cursed the fae for what they had done, banishing them to Mosima, a land entombed in time. Rayan spoke into the silence. ‘My mother was a diviner.’ Lettle sat up and turned back to Rayan, resting heavily on
We’re tied together now, you and I.’ ‘Tied together,’ he repeated, and she could hear the sound of a smile in his voice. ‘Sleep now, Lettle.’ She hated doing what people told her, and she was going to retort as much, but then she felt the tug of her dreams and was gone.
‘And now you talk to me? After a whole day of silence?’ ‘Silence?’ she hissed. ‘All I want is silence, but you won’t let me have it.’ Rayan’s second eyebrow shot up, though his gaze was still frustratingly calm. ‘I’m not sure what I have done to cause you to hate me so?’ ‘Everywhere I look you’re there, singing.’ Rayan shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘I’ll stop then.’ ‘Ah…no…but…well…’ Lettle’s anger spluttered to a stop.
‘Oh, yes,’ the woman said. ‘And you, elf, are under arrest for the murder of the prince of Mosima.’ The woman was fae.
‘For every drumskin…’ Yeeran murmured, but she couldn’t finish the sentence. Furi’s eyes were ablaze, their golden warmth more like fire than anything else. ‘You will be executed, and your sister can watch. Just like I had to watch you murdering my brother.’ Furi strode out of the prison leaving Yeeran with her thoughts. All the obeah murdered over the years. All the fae killed.
‘Yes, we could.’
The one born of a storm’s mist shall be your beloved. But when the waning moon turns, you will grant them their death. ‘Imna’s prophecy…’ she whispered to herself. ‘No. It can’t be.’ Her heart was hammering against her chest. ‘Lettle, what is it?’ ‘You…you’re…’ She didn’t know how to voice her panic.
Furi stepped forward now, her hands outstretched, to strike or embrace no one was sure. Then she did the most unexpected thing: she bowed. When she stood again, her eyes were shining and her lips trembling from emotion. ‘Welcome to the family, King Rayan.’
A sudden thought came to Lettle. She gasped and everyone turned to her. ‘The blight. Rayan, you caused the blight.’
‘My birth meant that someone with the Jani bloodline was living outside of Mosima,’ he said. ‘And that’s when the blight began.’ The four of them stood
‘You were right about the curse. My father discovered some of the human language for magic. But she cannot withhold the information from me for long.’ Yeeran growled low in her throat. Was it always going to come down to this? Furi or her freedom? ‘She will tell us,’ Yeeran said and stormed out of their rooms. A reckoning was coming.
Najma wrote a letter and gave it to me on the day he died. It spoke of his son. But never did I think that, with his diluted blood, the tree would grant him the throne. If I did, I would have killed him along with the queens.’ Lettle felt her stomach churn with the knowledge of the truth. ‘But I suppose…I wasn’t the one to kill them, was I?’ Nerad said. Golan took a few shaking steps with his cane. Lettle clutched her elbows, her nails digging into flesh. ‘I merely supplied the poison. You were the one to lace the chalice, don’t forget that,’ Golan said. ‘Are you sure?’ Nerad taunted. ‘That’s
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But then,’ his lips curled, ‘the blight improved and our queens gave up on all the work we had done with Crescent.’ What has Crescent got to do with anything?
‘Let me leave. Let me join the extra troops we deployed to the Elven Lands yesterday.’
‘What did Nerad mean?’ Yeeran said softly. ‘All the work you had done with “Crescent”?’ Furi went to Amnan and stroked him tenderly. Pila stood by Yeeran’s back, lending her strength always. ‘When the blight began to accelerate, we started a campaign to reclaim our homeland,’ Furi said, her head dipping to her chin. ‘We became allies with the Crescent tribe.’ ‘What?’ Yeeran’s heart began to pound. ‘In exchange for helping them win the war, they will acknowledge the Fae Lands as ours.’ ‘The Fae Lands?’ Something itched at the back of Yeeran’s memory. Rayan had said he’d seen a map in the Book
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Rayan nodded, his gaze distant. She wondered how he felt; the fae had partnered with the people he hated the most. The Two-Bladed Tyrant’s tribe, the man who had killed his mother. The man he was destined to one day kill.
‘He can’t be,’ he said, his voice heavy with dread. ‘She’s right,’ the voice came from the doorway. Furi was there, shadows gathering in the rings beneath her eyes. ‘No,’ Rayan choked. Furi looked pained. ‘The Two-Bladed Tyrant has been our prisoner for these last ten years. It was Nerad who worked with him to make the deal with the Crescent tribe. Our prisoner, yes. But also our ambassador.’
‘You killed my mother.’ Rayan’s magic lashed out with a spark, twisting around Komi’s midriff. ‘I’ve killed many mothers, and many fathers,’ Komi said with quiet resolution as Rayan squeezed his essential organs with his magic. ‘Reema, she prophesied your death by my hands.’ Komi’s eyes widened. ‘You?’ Rayan’s expression was grim. ‘Me.’ Yeeran stepped towards Komi, her hands shaking so she balled them into fists. ‘You’re the Two-Bladed Tyrant.’
Furi withdrew something from her pocket. She pressed it against Rayan’s chest. ‘We found this on Nerad’s body. It was addressed to you from my brother.’ Then she walked away leaving Rayan, Yeeran, and the statue of Komi. His mouth parted in a scream.
Many years ago, Hudan discovered a grimoire in Afa’s tomb, east of the Wasted Marshes, and brought it back to me. It is in those pages where I gleaned the secret of my ability to leave the boundary. It has taken me many years to translate what I could, but I’m afraid I will not be able to break the curse while I still live. I do not trust everyone here, including some of my family. So instead, I choose to trust you, my halfling son, whose eyes may see more than I could ever. I have hidden my research where the earth’s teeth grow, once a river flowed.
