‘Under whose authority?’
‘Mine.’
‘And you are?’
‘My name is Mortah. I travelled with your sister from Caperly.’
Yeeran had heard the name from Rayan, but it was only now that she saw her in her uniform that she matched the name with the person. ‘Captain Mortah?’
‘I was once,’ Mortah said. ‘You are young to remember me.’
‘I studied your campaigns. You were the first to introduce the flank and turn strategy–a formation I used often.’ Yeeran saluted with as much respect as she could proffer.
‘I’m glad of the legacy. It has helped me reclaim some control of the chaos that has ensued.’
‘You have control of the army?’ Yeeran asked.
‘Most of it. I called on all the senior ranking officers and thankfully some of the older cohort remembered me. I am putting in order what I can—’
Pila’s voice entered her mind, she sounded scared. Yeeran? Lettle and Furi want to speak Afa’s spell now.
Why?
They believe it will untether Ajax from Rayan so the king can live.
And the obeah?
Will turn into humans.
‘Yeeran?’ Namana said. ‘Are you well?
Panic felt like fire in Yeeran’s veins. She was not used to the feeling. She was the one who always stayed calm.
I’m coming.
‘I have to go,’ she said. She pointed to Malak’s horizontal form. ‘Take him, try him, do what you want with him. But never let him lead again.’
Yeeran began to run. Mud splattered her legs as she picked up her pace until the tunnel to Mosima was in front of her.
Pila?
She was about to plunge into it when the ground started to shake. She watched as a hairline crack grew along the rockface, spreading until it was wide enough to pass her hand through.
The tunnel to Mosima caved in, stone and debris throwing Yeeran backwards. She crawled through the wreckage, her heart in her throat.
Pila? she thought again, desperately.
But the obeah didn’t reply.
Chapter Thirty-Three
A Man Called No One
The ground is shaking beneath me.
I am not the man I was a moment ago, nor am I the man I was a century ago.
One was called Afa, and the other Alder. Now I am both but neither.