Chapter Eight

AXL

“Let’s get the cargo on those ships!” Isley’s voice bounced around the dockyard.

Around me, Urwanian palace staff in all shapes and sizes were in constant motion. The women were in charge of supplying the spacecraft. Some loaded crates with canned food and silver packages of ready-to-eat meals. Others filled containers with first-aid kits, sterilized surgical tools, and kysum antidotes. A third group handled the storage of weapons, ammunition, and combat equipment.

The crates were slowly lifted onto trolleys and passed along to young Urwanian males. The boxes, along with barrels of water and ale, were hauled up the ramps of the Magnum and Urwanian military space vessels, filling the storage compartments and galleys. A team of technicians in welding helmets performed last-minute maintenance, making sure the ships were still spaceworthy.

My squad, along with the Urwanian soldiers handpicked by the Empress, formed a circle at the far end of the dockyard. All of us waited as Isley pulled up next to me, squeezing herself into the circle. She pulled dark blue hair away from her face and piled it into a bun on top of her head. “We’re ready to go, Chief.”

I acknowledged her with a curt nod. “Very well. Let us proceed.”

The shaman and his assistant stood in the center of the circle. He cleared his throat and straightened out the lapels of his jewel-covered robes. He raised his brass staff, rattling the red konga fruit and prayer shells strung around the crook of the pole. The assistant stood at his side, face hidden behind the hood of an open robe. He picked up the azlut branches on the ground and lit the pale purple leaves.

We held out our crossed wrists and closed our eyes in prayer.

“With the power vested in me, I call upon the highest power, our Holy One, Zamos, and ask for Her to grant blessings upon my brothers and sisters. Give them guidance and lead them on the path to success.”

“Mala halakhe,” we whispered.

The shaman took the burning leaves and paced around the inside of the circle, waving pungent smoke in our faces. “We ask our Holy One to take our fallen brothers and sisters under your wing. Grant a fast and thorough recovery for the wounded warriors, acquirers, and civilians. We ask you to nourish the strength within us to overcome these trying times. But most of all, we pray for peace.”

“Mala halakhe.”

The shaman handed the leaves back to his assistant. He untied the konga fruit from his staff and cracked them open. Holding the hairy husks in his hands, he dipped his fingers inside and painted triangles onto our chests with the syrupy blue juice. His assistant followed behind him, carrying a leather-bound holy book in his hands.

While they started to recite the warrior’s prayer, each of us prepared to lay our palms on the cover of the book. The assistant passed a tin vessel of blessed broth around the circle. The ritual continued without interruption until the shaman arrived at Natya. She closed her eyes and laid her hand on the holy book.

“In the name of Zamos, I pray for my sister.” The shaman’s assistant placed his hand on Natya’s forehead. “We pray for you to guide her with your light, and to instill righteousness, honor, and inner strength in this noble warrior.”

Something was wrong. I looked in Natya’s direction. Her skin had turned a pasty color, and her lips were chalk-white. She took a deep breath and started to sway on her feet.

She began falling in a moment. Her arms and legs went rigid, and suddenly she was on her back. Cries of despair rang out around the circle as we rushed to her aid.

“What is happening to her?”

“Give her some room!” I ordered, trying to push people back. “Summon a medic or get some water. Don’t stand around doing nothing.”

While most of the squad gathered around Natya, a few scrambled for help. Natya’s eyes rolled upward, exposing the whites and beginning to twitch. When she began to convulse violently, Isley and I rolled her onto her side. Barthan inserted a pillow under the edge of Natya’s cheek. He pushed away the matted hair on her forehead to feel her temperature.

“Is she choking?” Isley held Natya’s hand, brushing her hair. “I feel like I have to do something!”

Next to me, the shaman and his assistant exchanged puzzled looks. “Has this happened to her before?” The shaman knelt beside Natya and tilted her head back. “Could it be an allergic reaction to the azlut smoke?”

“Possibly, but I doubt it. I’m sure Natya has been around it before.”

Natya stopped seizing and rolled onto her back, groaning as she blinked her eyes and tried to get her body under control again. Isley and I slid our arms beneath her and lifted her upright.

“That was terrifying.” Isley took the flask of water from Barthan and raised it to Natya’s lips. But she pushed the cup out of her face.

“You’re not going to believe this, but a pillar was recently here.” She looked at me curiously.

“What did she say?”

“She must still be delirious.”

“I know what I’m saying.” Natya’s voice grew louder than before, and she spoke over everyone as she pushed herself off the ground. “I saw it in my head. I know it’s the truth.”

“Natya.” The shaman spoke with a hushed voice as he gently squeezed her arm. “If I did not know any better, my child, I would say that you have just experienced a wisulu vision.”

I stepped around the shaman so I could look Natya in the eyes. “Okay, maybe it was here. But we need to know where it is right now.”

“I’m not sure.” Natya shut her eyes and scrunched up her face. “It’s headed west. That’s all I can tell you.”

I nodded, my fingers slowly curling into fists. If Natya was right, we were finally catching a break. There was no telling who might be in possession of the pillar. The timing suggested an Urwanian rebel group, or possibly a dissenter who went rogue. They might already be on their way to Makroi. If the artifact could focus power like the ancient stories suggested, we had to act quickly.

“It’s better than nothing. We’ll have to take a chance. Alert all the nearby kingdoms and tell them to keep their eyes open. Ready or not, we’re going to start moving.”