Women Of Steel | ✔

XXIV

"Stand down, prince." I say, raising my hands up in an offer of surrender. I look to the men with their swords raised and the fear in their eyes that their weapons do not hide. I do a brief count, just fifteen men. None of them have to die today, no blood has to spill — except my own.

Prince Tobiloba shakes his head and I know that he is far gone. There is nothing that will change his mind and for a brief moment, I blame it on the king, no matter her reasons, she has no right to keep a man from his child. But the moment is gone as soon as it comes. She must have seen this evil in his eyes.

"You can surrender, princess, and no blood will be spilled."

We lock gazes, I smile a tiny smile and then hell lets loose. The bones under my control creak with the effort of movement after a long time being buried in the sand, their hesitation only lasts a second before they are racing towards the prince's men, their cries like a howling wind. The sound makes me shudder. My power is unnatural.

The prince's men meet my small army half way, swords raised up to cut through and each time it seems like their blade lowers to slice through bone, the skeleton splits before my eyes and heavy bones wrap around their necks, choking them.

Their swords clatter to the sand and seven men fall. Two lose their bravado and drop their weapons to run into the night. The prince changes his tactics, swinging desperately as a headless dead reaches for his throat. His sword pieces through the small space between the ribs and with a violent push, the prince sends my soldier sprawling to the sand. Immediately, the bones shrivel back to dust.

Seeing this, Tobiloba smiles grimly but his victory is too early, he stumbles as something in the sand grabs onto a foot. His wild eyes meet mine, I look away to see Ifatunji dodge a blow from one of the prince's men. Tara remains atop her horse and I shiver as I see that her eyes have turned a milky white and she is slouched on her horse.

Demilade told me of Tara's abilities as one of Remilekun's first daughters to be blessed with her magic. Tara is not like Arewa though, she can only see omens of evil. I try not to think of what she might be seeing now.

The prince lets out a hollow cry as another bony hand springs from the sand to grab a hold of his other foot. In horror, I watch as he sinks down slowly into the ground, the earth parting underneath him until he is deep down, until his head is all that is left and he is screaming curses into the night.

Until the ground swallows him whole.

Like a spell broken, the dead shudder and dissolve into the sand again, no trace left as if they never existed. As if I never summoned them.

I look to the moon and when I look back down, Tara's horse whines and she jerks, her head snapping to the side in a quick motion that startles me.

Three words leave her lips a dazed whisper.

I remember her words,You suspect it, don't you? And how I thought she'd been talking about Tobiloba's betrayal, but she wasn't.

She echoes the words again, "They're coming,"

— "They're here."

A scream leaves my lips as the sky turns a deep black, blotting out the stars above. Ifatunji says a prayer aloud and my screams becomes a curse.

I recall Maami's prophecy too late, your blood will unlock an ancient evil. I remember Demilade's words, the one she had whispered to me in confidence, I'd thought they were a tip, words offered to aid me. They weren't, they were a warning, a warning telling me to thread carefully in the land of the dead. I am a fool.

My blood, I resurrected the dead with my blood. They returned to the earth and again they rise now.

The sword in my grip falls to the sand, stained with my blood and I scream.

"Stop!" I shout to the army that rises. They have no ears, the dead do not listen, they have no master. My blood does not control them, not at all.

Like a foolish child, I cling to Ifatunji's side, waiting for the reassurance from him. He should know how to stop this but there is only hopelessness in his eyes. Our horses whine and take off into the distance and the earth trembles in the slightest.

Ifatunji looks to me, really looks at me and something like fear flashes through his eyes. Tara is collapsed on the sand, the army rising marches for north, ahead of us, blindly as if following an unheard command. My heart sinks, north, the desert, for Remilekun.

The earth trembles again, the land splintering slowly into a single crack. With a muffled scream, I stumble to Tara and shake her shoulders.

"Ifatunji, help me!" I shout at him, the crack widens quickly, zigzagging for our path, then suddenly stops.

I bend my head and brace for the impact, inhale a sharp breath and whisper a prayer at the same time. Suddenly, the roaring sound of the wind fades, there is only a startling quiet that is surprising peaceful. I raise my head and prepare to be hit with the bright light of the afterlife, like it is told in folklore but I am still in the middle of chaos, Ifatunji is staring up at the sky, lips parted and frozen in time, Tara is still lying.

The sky is ever dark. It takes a long moment for me to realize that somehow, time is frozen, suspended. I hear my name, low at first, then a sure boom that makes me stiffen because it is so familiar.

I turn and gulp at the man before me. The merchant I'd offered my name to. He grins, wearing the same merchant robes he'd worn then, a brown coloured material that reminds me of dried blood.

"Omolara," He mutters, testing the name again. He claps his hands and I take a step back. What is he?

"You must remember me," He says. "But not as you should."

"What are you?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "It isn't only Esu who knows how to wear a disguise among mortals."

I take in his form again. He isn't much taller than me, and he is certainly not as tall as my father but as I peer closer to him, the seams in his glamour unravel. He is definitely taller, he wears his power around him proudly and his nose is crooked, broken from a fight it seems.

But his eyes give away his secrets, ordinary looking at first but on a closer look, I catch the past, the present and even the future flashing through them. His name leaves my lips as an awed sigh.

"You are Orunmila, the god of foresight."

He nods.

"Indeed I am, and you only have a matter of days before your death."