Plague of Light by Robin D. Laws

Author:Robin D. Laws [Laws, Robin D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-60125-398-9
Publisher: Paizo Publishing, LLC
Published: 2011-07-21T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Four: I Must Die

The boy stands before the Latari, who seek his death. He unlaces the northern-style tunic given him by the Aspis Consortium. Marked on his chest is the firefly birthmark that heralds his curse—the curse that has claimed the lives of these plainsland tribesfolk.

“I am called Mwonduk, and I am the one you want. Kill me if you want, but don’t hurt my guardians. They mean only to prevent harm.”

This is the first time I have heard the boy speak above a whisper. His head is no longer bowed, his shoulders now straight. He stands with his chest thrust out, as if daring a Latari warrior to throw a spear through it. Some appear to be contemplating it. I envision the boy impaled on the spot, the sharp edge of the spear obliterating and penetrating the birthmark.

Verkusht, crouching, catches my eye, silently asking if we shouldn’t leap on the boy, clap hands over his mouth, let Obai resume her role as talker. With a twitch of my head, I warn the Bekyar to stand down.

A leather-skinned, white-haired woman stands. Her crown is fashioned from a gourd, the goddess object of her tribe. “Harm has already been done. Your insect minions descended last night. My husband, my children, murdered. There are none of us standing here who did not lose kin. In agony they shrieked, torn to shreds before our eyes. Kill you we shall, young demon. Your death is ours by right of blood.”

Mwonduk gets down on his bony knees to bow his head before the Latari queen. “I didn’t send the fireflies. I would never hurt anyone. The fireflies are sent by a goddess—the one who put her mark on me. I don’t know why. Long before I was born, my ancestors did something wrong. Or maybe they didn’t. Maybe there’s no fairness in it.”

“There is no fairness in our kin being killed.”

The boy prostrates himself, touching his forehead to the dirt. “No, there isn’t. This goddess is not fair. She is hungry. She hungers for me. So I must be sacrificed, and die.”

The queen retreats to confer with her spirit-women. When she returns her attention to the boy, he continues:

“I don’t know anything about this goddess. I am ignorant. My whole life has been fear and an empty stomach. I have no kinsmen to mourn me when I die. So please let me die the right way.”

The spirit women break away to argue among themselves. Annoyed by their harsh whispering, the queen calls a halt to it with a shrill whistle.

The queen’s manner has softened. “We know our own goddess well, child. She is benevolent, but demands that we avenge wrongs against us.”

Mwonduk rises, steps toward them. “So whatever you do, you will anger a goddess.”

The queen steps back. The spirit women step back. The Latari warriors, too.

“Is the gourd goddess forgiving?”

“All life springs from Chuaka.”

The boy rubs at his dripping nose. “Kitumu, the firefly goddess—I don’t think she is forgiving. Without a reason, she hurt you bad.

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