The Asters of Ogaza

25

          “Hmm, this is . . .something,” Zina said, taking in the sheds and huts that surrounded Point 4.

          “That’s what I thought. I mean who would want to live h ere, in the midst of a forest?”

          “The witches and spirits?” Zina grinned at Amare with mischief.

          He tsked. “Not real.”

          “You were never told the Legends of the blue goddesses and white hunters?” Every child in North Ogaza was told the frightening tale of witches who had long blue hair, sharp fangs, blue nails that were as long and pointy as branches, and an equally blue, sparkly eyes. They were beautiful and always sang sad songs in the forest. One day, three hunters were out in the woods looking for game.

          They were not very fortunate, and because they didn’t want to return home empty-handed, they forged deeper into the woods, and heard the troubled songs the witches were singing. They searched for them and found them; beautiful, helpless and human looking. The hunters decided to take them to safety, but soon, the witches shed off their human camouflage and transformed into their true selves.

          The hunters were afraid of their nails, teeth and too blue eyes, and ran off in different directions. Nobody knows exactly what happened to two of the hunters, but one made it back home safe, narrated what he saw, and immediately, he fell into paralysis and had been unable to move since then.

          The legends have it that the other two were killed, and their spirits (which were assumed to be white in colour) were married to the witches and together, they all roam the forest, singing from time to time and looking for new prey.

          “Of course, I was. But that doesn’t make it real. The same way none of the stories about talking animals were true. I tried to talk to a stray dog once, my nose had teeth marks for almost a month.”

          Zina laughed. “You must have been a dumb kid to try to talk to a dog. A stray dog.”

          “I was actually a pretty smart kid. I loved to try new, and very strange things, that had me flooding my entire house twice, selling my Mama’s jewelry and pretending to be kidn*pped for three days so that I could study human reaction to fear.”

          Zina’s mouth hung open, dumbfounded. “And you’re proud of that?” he nodded. “My Pa would have sold you to traders in exchange for new fabric.” He burst into laughter. “You were not a smart kid, you were insane! You still are.”

          “We all need insanity, once in a while. Keeps your heart rate steady.”

          They both went into one hut and the moment they shut the door; they were enveloped by darkness.

          “Maybe we should leave the door open,” Zina suggested and Amare agreed.

          “I’d find the windows, just hold the door long enough for me not to trip over any old, dusty item.”

          “Yes, Master,” Zina taunted and went to hold the door. The hinges were rusty and chipped, the door couldn’t stay open on its own without swinging shut. Even with the door open, not enough light got into the room, and it wasn’t easy for Amare to see. He decided to accompany his sense of sight with the sense of touch, running his hands through the wall, hoping to find a handle or the glass panes of the window. His fingers soon found something solid and slightly hairy.

          “I got it!” he yelled. But then, the window ran out from under his fingers and onto the back of his palms. He froze.

          “Vul—vulture,” he whispered, and if the hut wasn’t so tiny, Zina might not have heard him.

          “What? Open the window already. I’m getting tired of playing guard.”

          “I think our ‘window’ has legs. Strong, hairy legs,” he was almost dying inside.

          Zina’s face scrunched in confusion. “What are you—” Amare’s piercing screams filled the small space and Zina’s heart rammed against her rib cage.

          “Amare!” she panicked. Leaving the door would cause it to shut, and she wouldn’t be able to see Amare or the reason for his scream in the dark. If she stood there, Amare would just keep screaming, she would keep panicking and nothing would be solved.

          “Hold on, Amare! I’d be with you right now, okay? Just . . .hold on a little.” She saw a rock, but it was quite a distance from where she was standing. She took the chance anyway, ran to swoop it up and was able to make it back in time before the door completely shut. She wedged the rock against the door and staggered in the semi-darkness to find Amare. His screams led her close to him, and she didn’t have to look too hard to see the giant spider that was now crawling up his arm and onto his chest.

          She couldn’t kill it by stomping her feet on it, it was too big for that, and that would only hurt Amare’s solid chest. She shook her head forcefully; this wasn’t the time to be thinking about how solid his chest was.

          “Amare, flick the spider off your body.”

          He glared at her with reddened eyes that made Zina almost laugh at the fact that he was tearing up. Over a spider! “How am I supposed to do that? Arggghhhhhh!”

          She stuffed her fingers into her ears because his screams were too loud, and she knew this was a lost cause. He wouldn’t answer her reasonably.  She tiptoed gently towards him, kicked off the spider into the opposite direction. It probably ran into the wall because Zina heard the sound of its body collide with a surface, and with speed, she ran back to the door, took the rock and flung it in the direction of the spider before it could run into one of its many, spooky hiding places.     

          Bingo! It landed right at the middle of the spider’s body, and she watched it struggle briefly and give up, before releasing the door and going back to a whimpering Amare.

          “Okay, soldier. That’s enough,” she restrained from laughing and Amare pulled her into him, buried his head in her chest and wrapped his arms around her. He curled up against her like a giant baby and Zina stroked his hair and rubbed his back. “It’s dead. I killed it, I killed it. It’s not coming back.”

          Amare’s grip around her body tightened and she froze. This wasn’t like the time he had his allergic reactions. Then, she just wanted him to wake up quickly. To breathe properly and talk to her without his swollen tongue. Now, she would do anything for him to remain like this. Keep holding her like she was the only air that could satisfy him. Like all the spiders of the world would attack him if he loosened his grip just a little.

          “You’re okay,” she said and bit her lips immediately because her voice was low and shaky.

          Amare did loosen his grip. Darn. He flicked his head left, right and then up at Zina. She moved her lips in an awkward smile, and then ran her right thumb under his eyes, over his little pinpoint mole and his tears wet her thumb.

          “Amare Steves. The mighty Amare Steves, who tried to study the human reaction to fear, who brings down every one on the training fields, who knows the intricacies of the woods and all the things in it, who walks with high shoulders and long legs like Royalty, who has killed numerous snakes and various animals, is afraid. Of spiders!” she burst into laughter and Amare scooted away from her and rose up, straightening his back like he wasn’t just curled up like an earthworm some seconds ago.

          “I am not afraid of spiders. I just hate them.”

          “Nobody likes them, Amare.” Zina’s laughter was making her tummy hurt and her eyes damp.

          “Did you see how big that thing was? It was like the size of my head. Triple the size!”

          “Don’t exaggerate it, Amare. It wasn’t even that big.” Zina snorted, but it was big, and black, and hairy. “Just admit that you were afraid and I’d stop laughing.”

          “Hate and fear are different. I hate them, I’m not scared of them.”

          “Spider!” she pointed behind him, and like a gullible kid, he ran back into her arms and she laughed even more.

          “That’s not funny!” he moved back up, glaring at her.

          “Oh, it is. This is a comedy show, and I don’t have to pay to watch it!” she clapped her hands, roaring with more laughter. “We should take that back to the Palace, and have spider meat for supper.”

          “Holy mountains, I hate you so much, Zina!” he growled.

          “No, you don’t,” she said amidst more giggling and she was right. He didn’t hate her. He wanted to go back to the floor and curl up against her, her body heat and his body heat building an impenetrable furnace around them. Stupid, creepy spiders couldn’t bother them. He watched her laugh, and even in the dark, she was still the most beautiful vulture ever created.

          “I can’t wait to tell Angel. And even Princess Haile!”

          He whined and swore to kill her if she dared that, but he was giggling too, watching her clap her hands, tip her head back and spread her small lips as she laughed in this dark, dusty, too small hut. He could forget everything and just watch her. Forever.

                                                                             ****

          “He . . .he can’t do that, Haile. He’s banishing you. Sending you away like you don’t matter to this family and this kingdom.” Master Poja said banishing like the word was a knife to his throat and could kill him instantly.

          The maidservants packed her bags, emptied some things from her vanity into small, velvety knapsacks. They wrapped up some pictures, folded her bedsheets and covers. They put her swords and daggers into sheaths.

          “Do you have a plan? Commemoration is close, if he doesn’t bring you back before then, he’s going to make up some absurd story and that would be it. People would be invested in preparations for coronation, in making plans for Taye’s wedding. They would forget you, Haile.”

          “They can’t.” She assured herself.

          “You need a plan! Don’t you understand? If you want to take back the position in the family that they took from you, going to hide out in Bales is a huge setback, Haile.

          “I know, “she admitted sadly. “I know, but I’m not going to beg my father. I’m not going to let him look at me as a weak, little, foolish girl who he can throw away into marriage. I will come back. For my throne.”

          “And the Asters, what am I supposed to do with them? How am I supposed to train them without you?”

          Princess Haile giggled, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “We both know that you were created to train Asters. You could do it yourself better than the two of us would.”

          “Haile,” he grabbed her shoulders, looking into her sad, scared eyes with his equally sad, scared eyes. “Don’t go. You’re my only friend in the entire world. I don’t know what would happen to you the moment you leave those gates.”

          “I would return. That’s what would happen. I would return, and take the throne, and become the Empress of North Ogaza!”

          “Your Majesty, the carriage is ready.” A Royal guard called, making Master Poja and Princess Haile break eye contact. He kept his hands firmly on her shoulders, and she gently placed her hands over his.

          “I’d be alright, PJ. I’d write to you, the moment I get there. I promise. Just tell the Asters something, they’d believe. And Zina,” she heaved and went to take something out of her drawers. It was wrapped. “Give this to her. Tell her not to worry about me. I’d come back, and make her proud. I’d make the both of you proud.”

          “Haile,” Master Poja’s voice was almost non-existent now.

          “Your Majesty, the Crown Prince dropped this off before you came back. He said an Aster asked him to give it to you.”

          She faced the maidservant with expectant eyes. “Zina Anfari?”

          The maidservant shook her head and before she could say who it was from, Princess Haile ordered her, “Throw it away.” She took it away immediately.

          “If you don’t come back, I’d resign, go to Bales and find you. Do you hear me?”

          Princess Haile nodded and hugged Master Poja. Her PJ. He was closer to her than her brother, or any member of her family would ever be. Sometimes, she considered spending the rest of her life with him. But they had never seen each other in that way. They were platonic, and amazingly so.

          “Be good, PJ.”

          He huffed. “That’s something people who are never going to see each other again say.”

          She laughed. “Well then, be bad.”

          He nodded. “I will. And you, be worse. Way, way worse. I’m looking forward to seeing you again, my Empress.” He bowed deeply and goosebumps crawled up her flesh. Her heart warmed with delight. To hear herself called ‘Empress’. She smiled and walked out of her quarters and into the carriage, without saying goodbye to anyone.       

          Screw them; her Dada, Mama, and her younger brother by 25 minutes. Her Dada could try all he wants to banish her, but she would return, sooner than any of them expect. And they would have the shock of their lying, deceptious lives.