“Spy on me again and I will have you burnt. Why are you crying? You should be glad the crown prince finds you ugly. You want to see where we put the ones he found pretty?”
Sogolon wait another quartermoon before she go back to Olu’s house. Early morning, and the lion go with her for protection. Olu don’t remember her name, but remember that he supposed to remember her. She remember him saying that one day he going to forget that he forget. Something heavy pass between them, he say when he see her, something that leave him sour but it’s lost, whatever it was. Sogolon look at him and say, I chase away your whores, that is why. He nod and agree. She ask him to teach her words. He don’t know why he feel to trust her, since he don’t trust anyone at court. He point to markings on the wall, chair, bed, and floor, and she say nothing when he skip those in red.
Sogolon’s head is getting heavy. Too many things for just a girl. Learning words from Commander Olu, but also learning about Commander Olu. The darkchild, who don’t visit her room since, but haunt her mind making her afraid to look up. Then there is the Aesi of the palace court, and the Aesi of Commander Olu’s wall, both of them frightening her. The King Sister who used to be, but never was, though her name leave a mark on Olu’s wall. Maybe all of these things is what she get from learning, that he is not only leaving words in her mind, but a weight attached to every one. Yet she don’t stop going, not even when wind blow a rumor her way that the commander putting his big commander into action again, with some scrawny girl who don’t look like she can take a flea’s cock, much less the Berserker of Bornu. And still more things. The princess, who have her around because she is intrigued by a girl who don’t come with a use. Maybe your use is to eat all my things, she say. But she watch the princess in her mirth and her melancholy, and find they both come from the same place. Too often she joke that Sogolon don’t have use as a slave, but she have plenty use as a Queen, yet watch us both, in the wrong palace. She reaching out to Sogolon, at least that is what it look like, until her words make Sogolon gather that she is a pet too. The princess saying deep things because she think they will fly past her ears as they would a dog.
Too many things swirl in Sogolon’s mind. Too many things. So she shed the sister of the King, the wife of Olu. Nobody remember her but two, which is really one, for Olu don’t know that what he is saying is her name, and Sogolon never even see her, don’t know what she look like and never hear her voice. And she shed Keme. Days now come to pass where she don’t see him much. And when last she see him, his words were full about how he get his desire to be an elite palace guard, and not a ceremonial one, like the lion shapeshifters. It is all he talk about and don’t stop until he go far past annoying her. And still he go on about throne room that, castle keep this, and securing that and protecting this, that after a while all she see is a suit of armor talking to her.
“Maybe she can fan you, Highness,” say the headwoman, the chief lady waiting on the princess.
“If she was a slave. I am not going to make her a slave,” say the princess.
“Well, Highness, she is a gift to the King. Long time now she should have gone to the Kwash Kagar’s palace.”
“Didn’t you hear? Any gift to the King is being claimed by the crown prince. The arrogance. The King is still al—”
“Busy?”
“Yes, busy.”
“You not in any debt to this girl, Highness. You are royal blood of the throne of Fasisi. She is no one.”
“Not even a no one deserve this prince.”
* * *
—
A hot night with wet air. Sogolon get send to the castle where Prince Likud stay until his own is complete. Two male servants escort her to the rear welcome room, carrying next to nothing, for the girl have next to nothing, other than what the mistress leave behind. No light but two torches. All Sogolon can see of the room is that the walls and columns are high and they arch into darkness. The male servants are tiptoeing their way in, and jumping at the slightest sound. Sogolon can’t tell if they are fussy, flighty, or afraid. A shout come from another room and they both cry out, drop the small sack with her things, and run. Sogolon look around but there is nothing to look at. Then, off in a distance she can’t tell in the dark, flickering lights swirling around and around like slapped bees. As they move closer, Sogolon see flapping wings and wonder if they really are bees or some great fireflies. Soon they are flying above her, a kind she has heard of but never seen. Yumboes, as big as her head perhaps, ten and two of them, maybe more, maybe twenty, maybe more than that. Fairies with blue and green wings like dragonflies, and beating so quick that in the dark is a low hum. A few slow and hover above and around, as curious of her as she is of them, male, female, and some she cannot tell. And the lights, jars containing multitudes of fireflies. They will all die by morning, she hears on a tiny whisper. They fly up into the ceiling, lighting the walls, and for a blink there are people, a crowd of people on the ceiling, until she recognize the frescoes of kings, and knights, and beasts, charging, drinking, feasting, and battling in the vaults.
More noise approach, this time the shouts, cheers, and laughter of young people. Another light, this time a naked boy made out of nothing but it. He is walking ahead of the others, but a chain around his neck is slowing him down. Holding the chain, the white clay Sangomin who don’t seem to have any gift other than being the oldest, or the biggest. Let me hold the pet, a boy say and grab the leash. In the quick he pulls the chain so hard that the light boy fall back. Careful, Prince Abeke, all suns carry heat as well as light, the Sangomin say to the boy ignoring him. Behind those three many more, including the red and blue girl, boys older, boys younger, two girls, maybe three, and the watcher women who lost control over them. Running, skipping, drinking, taunting the women, creating games, looking for trouble.
One of the girls notice Sogolon first. “My prince,” she say, and two boys say yes. Twins.
Prince Abeke, the one with the light boy, approach her. The light make the boy appear harder, all chin, cheekbones, and brow. Sogolon glance above, hoping a hand don’t come for her from the ceiling. The other twin catch up and they both look over her, the new and strange animal.
“Where you come from?” say the other one.
“A witch conjure her, Aduke,” a girl say. “Or maybe a devil.”
“Devil don’t come in the night, only in day, fucking fool,” say Aduke. The girl jaw drop when he say fucking.
“Who agree for you to come with us?” say his brother. “And who tell you that you can call my brother by his name? I am prince and so is he. Who are you?” The girl drop her head like a sheep and shuffle to the back of the group.
“Maybe she is a devil,” say Abeke as he look over Sogolon and toy with the leash. “Who are you? I am a prince.”
“Your father is the prince,” say Aduke.