Erratic Magic

1. Through the Ruins-1

The smoke burned Kinza’s eyes as she picked her way through the rubble. She kept the back of Zaid’s shirt in her line of sight as best she could, but he was moving quickly, almost jogging through the alleys.

They had run through a short field of tall grass before reaching the edge of the slums that hugged the outskirts of this side of the city. As they got closer, Kinza could hear screams coming from inside the city walls and someone was crying to her left but she could not see them through the smoke. A few fires burned the remains of the houses nearby; barely more than huts this far out. Zaid looked around frantically as if trying to orient himself. After passing a few of the destroyed huts he seemed to know where he was as he took a sharp left and started moving faster. He was soon outside of Kinza’s vision.

“Zaid, wait!” she called, coughing. She moved away from a still-burning shed—or maybe it had been someone’s home—and came out into slightly clearer air. Right then a hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. Kinza yelped when Zaid started tugging her along.

“It’s not far,” he said.

“What’s not far?” she asked. A shout was heard a few alleys over, startling them both. It sounded like a fight had broken out, but between who? What had happened to the city? Kinza could see the tops of long limestone buildings on the other side of the city wall, but could not make out how much damage was done. She assumed only marginally better than the slums they scurried through.

Something tickled the back of Kinza’s mind. It was almost like she heard whispers, or maybe prayers, from several people. It was too faint to make out but she peered around her, looking for the people who were speaking. Nothing moved, though, and the whispers faded.

Zaid’s attention was quickly focused again on the direction they were headed, ignoring the shouts. It only just now hit Kinza that this was his home and any of these people could be his family or friends. She had been so shocked to finally see the vast city stretch out before her after the wild events of the last few days.

Rhapta is real! she thought to herself. Between everything she had seen from Zaid, the assassins, and even herself, she shouldn’t have been surprised. But physically seeing an entire city that the rest of the world didn’t know about and could not get to....it was surreal.

Rhapta is real! And it had been destroyed.

“Who would have done this?” she asked aloud. “Who could have done this?”

could “I don’t know, maybe...” said Zaid, looking around the corner and dragging her along, “I just don’t know.”

They were getting closer to the city wall, the ramshackle homes slightly larger here, but still built with nothing more than plywood and grass. A portion of the wall had collapsed and Kinza could see a leg sticking out at an odd angle; it wasn’t moving.

Bile rose in her throat and she took deep breaths trying to keep it down, but that just forced more smoke into her lungs. She coughed, loud enough that Zaid turned around in alarm; whether to snap at her for being loud or to see if she was okay, she didn’t know. The more she looked, the more she saw bodies lying motionless on the ground. Horror panged through her but she could not look away. Despite the shouts they had heard and the occasional person crying, it was eerily quiet. Something felt off even within the destruction they walked through.

Her sandals were not the best footwear at the moment and she kept tripping over stone and debris, little cuts appearing and healing on her feet. The pain was a distant thought compared to the c*****e. She still could not look away from the bodies, some were tiny; little hands covered in blood and ash. She swore she could hear whispers coming from somewhere nearby.

Kinza felt the bile start to rise again and was about to ask Zaid to stop, but he said, “There!” He let go of her hand and hurried to a building up ahead. It was slightly larger than the rest, maybe the size of a small gas station, with half of the roof collapsed inward. Zaid kept his head on a swivel, peering around them before trying to open the door. It was stuck. He rammed his shoulder into the side and it burst open with a loud bang. They both looked around, but no movement came from within the smoke.

Ignoring the whispers, Kinza followed him inside.

At first, she could not make out anything in the room. Only half of it was accessible, the other half covered with the fallen roof. Darkness shrouded the corners and as her eyes adjusted, Kinza noticed bottles smashed on the floor by the far wall. All kinds of herbs lay scattered around and a few remained on the many shelves that lined two of the remaining walls. A workbench lay toppled opposite the room.

“Khalil?” Zaid whispered into the darkness.

Nothing at first, and then a small cough came from behind the table, near the far wall. Zaid leaped over and said, “Khalil!” louder this time. He threw the table aside and started frantically dragging back piles of debris near the collapsed roof. Kinza gasped when she saw what was under the pile.

A man lay on the floor, but Kinza could only see as far down as his stomach because the bottom half was crushed beneath the collapsed ceiling. Ash clung to his face and arms, making him look like a corpse. If he hadn’t made a noise a moment ago Kinza would have thought he was dead. In fact, he still didn’t open his eyes as Zaid started shaking his shoulder, trying to wake him.

“Khalil!” he said. “Khalil, c’mon, open your eyes. What happened?” Khalil’s head rolled the other direction, but he didn’t speak. Zaid groaned and looked up at the fallen ceiling. Like the rest of the building, it looked slightly larger than the thatched roofs of the other huts. This one at least was made of wood and a bit of stone that was unfortunately on top of the man. Zaid tried lifting the edge, but she could see he was straining and barely made it an inch. As he released it back down, a scream tore out of Khalil’s mouth at the weight. For once, Zaid looked like he was worried.

“Could you use this?” Kinza asked, pointing to a long wooden plank that had fallen on the other side of the room. “To prop up the roof just high enough? I can try to pull him out.”

Zaid nodded, having run out of other options. Kinza had no idea how long ago the destruction had happened, and subsequently how long Khalil had been like this. But based on the soot-stained buildings and dwindling fires, it had been at least a day. She didn’t know how long someone could live like that.

This was not the situation she imagined being in after all she had heard about Rhapta over the past few days. She thought she would be taken to a grand palace where a judge or a king would inspect her and, hopefully, deem her not one of the blood-crazed ubir maniacs that escaped into the cities. The assassins who had come to kill her had told her there was an ancient prophecy that an outsider would come to Rhapta one day and either save the city or destroy it. The latter had obviously come to pass but it didn’t have anything to do with her, did it?

not Another sick feeling churned her stomach at the mere thought of causing this kind of pain to another person, let alone a whole population. Something had to have happened recently, but who was strong enough to attack Rhapta other than the Anunnaki themselves?

Zaid wedged the plank under the edge of the ceiling. “Pull him out quickly, but be careful, Kinza.”

careful“I will,” she said, positioning herself by Khalil’s head. Up close she could see he was handsome in a gentle sort of way. His dark hair looked soft and curly, despite the ash that coated it. And long, dark lashes rested on high cheekbones.

“Okay, on three,” Zaid said. “One, two, three!” He shoved the plank down and the ceiling raised much higher this time.

Kinza grabbed Khalil under the shoulders and pulled as hard as she could. He was heavier than he looked and she was worried for a moment that she would not be able to move him, but he started to slide out. She almost dropped him when he ground out another scream from between his teeth. Kinza got him out just far enough that she could see his long legs were mangled before setting him down gingerly. It did not look good.

Zaid set the plank, and the ceiling, back down gently and hurried over to the door to listen. When he stiffened, Kinza froze in response, kneeling by Khalil. Khalil was panting now and starting to moan. Zaid waived a hand at her, eyes widening. He must have heard someone outside.

Not knowing what to do, Kinza grabbed Khalil’s hand and whispered, “Hey, hi, my name is Kinza. You’re Khalil, right?” She felt like a moron. “Um, well, I know you don’t know me but, there might be some bad guys outside and I really don’t want to die right now. Could you just be as quiet as possible for a minute? Please?”

Miraculously, Khalil’s moaning stopped, but he was still breathing hard and fast. Kinza squeezed his hand gently, hoping he knew he wasn’t alone. Zaid had taken out one of his obsidian daggers and crouched a little lower. Kinza’s heart beat a little faster knowing Zaid heard things she could not. A moment later she heard shouts coming from far off; it sounded like a group, and they were getting closer.

Heart pounding, she slowed her breathing as much as she could, hoping whoever was out there could not hear her. It would be just her luck if they were found not because of the moaning guy with the crushed legs, but because of the mouth-breather trying to shush him. Zaid didn’t even glance in her direction and that gave her hope that she wasn’t as loud as she thought she was.

The shouting got closer and it sounded like a small group of men, maybe five or six of them. They were speaking in the same language that Zaid had spoken only yesterday, back in Moshi, the waypoint just outside of Mount Kilimanjaro. It sounded like they were going through buildings, and by the sound of the occasional screams, they were part of whoever had attacked the city.

They could not have been more than two huts down and Kinza was starting to panic, blood rushing in her ears. Zaid stayed tensed and Khalil stayed semi-unconscious. The men were so close now she could hear their laughter, it sounded like they were mocking someone they had found. She jumped when she heard a heavy thud just outside the door. She tried to bury the thought somebody having been murdered mere feet from her.

Kinza hadn’t realized until now, but the familiar prickling feeling at the back of her neck was at an all-time high, sending a tingling sensation down through her limbs and molten heat pooled in her abdomen, just behind her tattoo.

Oh no... she thought. Three times before, her tattoo had erupted into a blinding white light of telekinetic force, each time more explosive than the last. While she appreciated her body trying to defend her from her near death experiences, the explosion would most likely cause more harm than good at this point. It was a wonder that Zaid hadn’t been obliterated in the two times he got caught in it.