Say Walah

37: Black As Death (Part 1)

I had expected the night to shield my departure. Instead, Mairo's silhouette greeted me as I emerged from my hut, her figure outlined by moonlight. She didn't start at my appearance – me, painted like a demon of night, weapons strapped to my near-naked body. She just sat there, grinding something in her small mortar.

"I wondered when you would try to leave," she said softly, not looking up from her work. "Though I didn't expect you to paint yourself like death itself."

"Mairo..." I began, but she cut me off.

"The sleeping herbs you took from my stores – you could have asked." Now she looked up, her eyes finding mine in the darkness. "I would have given them freely."

"I didn't want to involve you in this."

A bitter laugh escaped her. "Involve me? Rimi is in there fighting for every breath. I am already involved." She stood, approaching me with slow, deliberate steps. "You're going to Ibezim's compound."

It wasn't a question. I nodded anyway.

"For the antidote." Another statement. "Which means you know who did this."

"Knowing is dangerous," I said quietly. "It's better if—"

"If I stay ignorant? While you paint yourself like a shadow and walk into death's arms?" She was close now, close enough that I could see the tears she was fighting back. "You trained hard with Amadi, yes, but I've heard terrible stories about Ibezim's guards..."

"I have to try." My voice came out rougher than intended. "Rimi has three days left. Maybe less."

Mairo's hand reached up, hesitating just short of touching my charcoal-covered chest. "And what about you? What happens if Ibezim's guards catch the shadow that comes stealing into their master's compound?"

"Then you'll have one less mouth to feed," I attempted a weak joke.

"Don't." The word came out sharp as a blade. "Don't make light of your death. Not to me."

Something shifted in the air between us, heavy with words unsaid. Her hand finally made contact with my chest, leaving a small handprint in the drying charcoal paste.

"I should have protected her better," she whispered. "Rimi. I should have..."

"This isn't your fault."

"Nor is it yours alone to fix." She stepped back, returning to her mortar. From it, she pulled out a small raffia pouch. "Here. Crush these leaves between your teeth if you're wounded. They'll slow any bleeding and dull the pain. They taste foul, but they might buy you enough time to escape if..."

I took the pouch, our fingers brushing. "Thank you."

"Just..." she paused, struggling with words. "Just come back. Both the antidote and you. I can't... I can't lose you both."

The weight of her words hung between us. I wanted to say something – about feelings that had been growing since that night on the hill, about futures that might never be, about promises I wasn't sure I could keep. Instead, I simply nodded.

"Watch over her," I said finally, stepping into the darkness. "I'll return before the second moonrise."

"You better," her voice followed me into the night. "Or I'll follow you into the land of the dead just to scold you myself."

I didn't look back – couldn't look back – but I carried the warmth of her touch with me as I melted into the shadows, moving like the death spirit I was painted to represent. Ahead lay Ibezim's compound, and somewhere within, an antidote that might cost my life to obtain.