I Shall Rewrite the Stars

Chapter 11

***

Isis doesn’t reappear in the darkness, no matter how long I drift through it, and the voice of Serapis, I think, never returns to comfort me.

I would fear I’ve died yet again, were it not for the snippets of conversations that fill the void at odd intervals.

“We need black pepper,” Raja insists. “As much as can be found.”

“Mother taught me how to forage,” Ptolemy says. “I’ll go search for it.”

“Look for abandoned gardens,” Mrunal says. “No natural pepper vines will grow in this forest.”

Then, a long while later:

“She went back to the city’s edge,” Mrunal growls. “The fool could have gotten herself killed—or worse!”

“I found some black pepper, so what’s it matter where it came from?” Ptolemy huffs.

“Were you followed?” Raja asks, continuing when Mrunal mutters a no. “Then consider her condition punishment enough.”

“Did you fall into a coop?” Helios asks, his voice hoarse.

“They’re everywhere in that city,” Ptolemy grumbles. “When Taurus was teaching me about messenger pigeons, he said they hate pepper. As I was chasing off the winged rats with a handful, this happened.”

“You’ll just have to bear with it for now,” Raja says. “Though you’ll wash the bird feces from your clothes as soon as we’ve found a stream.”

“Washing is servants’ work.”

“Consider yourself a servant, then.”

Later still, when the weight of my body has returned just slightly, I hear Juba and Helios bickering.

“You think I haven’t noticed Selene clinging to you?” my twin whispers. “Regardless of what you might think, she’s only been seeking comfort in the midst of this nightmare. Don’t get your hopes up or start expecting anything more.”

“Not even once have I insinuated that I would,” Juba replies.

“Then why haven’t you pushed her away? Why haven’t you taken your eyes off of her? I know that you’ve barely slept since we fled Kemet.”

Juba scoffs beneath his breath. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

‘Juba.’

His name resounds through my mind, drawing me down into a different darkness than the one I’ve floated in and out of till now. In a way, it seems more shadowy than endlessly black, and the longer I stare into it, the lighter it becomes.

‘Selene,’ Isis whispers, slowly materializing at my side. She sets her arms around me, and pulls me into a warm embrace.

‘Come to me,’ Serapis begs, though I cannot see him. ‘Come to the water and we will help you.’

‘Find seawater that reflects my moonlight,’ Isis adds. ‘Quickly, before the arjuna bark wears off.’

“Seawater,” I breathe, whilst my vision blurs. “Moonlight…”

“Selene?” Leaning over me, his face shadowed by the darkness of night, Juba sets his palm against my forehead. “Are you thirsty? I can fetch some water for you.”

“Water,” I whisper, groaning against the urge to be still and sleep. “Water and moonlight. The spirits…they said that…”

“There’s only a sliver of moon to be seen, but we did find a stream before stopping for the night. Would you like me to—”

“Move,” Helios commands, shoving Juba aside before scooping me into his arms.

“Heli,” I whisper, saddened by the dark bags under his eyes, and the stubble lining his cheeks. He’s been so careful to maintain his appearance. He must be terrified for me.

“I heard Serapis’ voice just now,” he says, then peers past me. “Lead me to the stream. It’s the only way to save my sister.”

“As you wish,” Juba says, his figure a shadow I can hardly make out.

“Heli,” I whisper again, too weak to properly correct him.

“Save your strength,” he replies. “It’s been a few hours since the mutt fed you some powder he claimed was an antidote. Raja said if he was right, it was only enough for a temporary fix.”

 “I was already considering Lycoctonum before Selene said it aloud,” Juba says. “I’d just never heard of it addressed as Vatsanabha, and the risk of administering the wrong antidote was too great to—”

“Every second you’d hesitated could have cost Selene her life.”

We stop moving, and I hear Juba turn back.

“Raja might have been certain of the poison before I was, but I’m the one who had a cure on hand—lest you forget.”

“How convenient—”

“Do you have any idea what Selene spared you from?” Juba explodes, his hand shooting from the darkness just above me to grab the collar of Helios’ tunic. “Have you even the faintest notion of what being a Romasian slave is like?”

“I—”

“I was taken from my homeland before I could even remember it. I was beaten, starved—punished and poisoned over and over, my entire life! And if you were to guess how many slaves have survived as long as I have, I can assure you, however low your number would still be too high.”

“I’ve never doubted your experience in Roma,” Helios snaps, shifting my weight into his left arm so he can knock Juba’s hand away with his right. “If you’re claiming you just so happen to keep antidotes on hand because of them, then fine. I’ll buy it. But that doesn’t excuse how you’ve acted toward my sister since you met.”

Juba heaves a dark, frustrated laugh. “And so we’ve come back to this. I’ve already told you, I—no. No. I will not continue such a ridiculous argument. We were ordered to get Selene to the stream, weren’t we? Stand there much longer and it’ll be your fault if we arrive too late.”

“We’re not finished here!” Helios shouts, storming after him. “Don’t tell me you’ve no ill intentions. I’ve seen too many men with obsessions to—”

“I am not Gustavian! I may have been sent from Roma, but I am not and never will be one of them. Whatever hatred you have for that empire, whatever grief you wish to vent on them, it’s all wasted on me. And somewhere in that childish, pig-headed brain of yours, you know it, too.”

“How am I supposed to trust you? My parents welcomed you with open arms before Roma’s army poured in at your back. You are the one who set our guards at ease—you are the Trojan horse that ushered in the downfall of Kemet!”

“And here I’d begun to think you were incapable of such sophisticated speech,” Juba scoffs. “I’ll have you know that it was Selene who figured out Gustavian’s plans. Slave or no, I was designated an ambassador and sent to represent Roma without so much as an inkling of the empire’s true intentions. If something bad were to happen to me, it wouldn’t have mattered who was at fault. Gustavian would have declared it a grave insult, and in return, his people would have justified whatever retribution he saw fit to demand.”

Helios is quiet a long while, leaving us to the sounds of footsteps, shifting dirt, and the wind.

It’s only when the gentle trickling of water draws us to a stop, that my twin asks, “You really didn’t suspect that he’d sent you off to become a martyr?”

“He sent me off to be a particularly useful sacrifice,” Juba replies. “Martyrdom is for people, and slaves are not people as far as Roma is concerned. Maybe that’s why Selene has gotten under my skin.”

“She recognized that you’re no different from us.”

“The idea that I’m anything less than human has seemed incomprehensible to her, from the moment we met.”

Helios drops to one knee, perching me on the thigh of his opposite leg. “I still don’t like you,” he says to Juba.

“The feeling’s mutual,” he replies.

“I think I’ve directed my anger toward the wrong person,” Helios says to me. “It was brash…and unbecoming of a Sa-Nesut of Kemet. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not the one…you need to…apologize to,” I say, sucking in a hiss as my shoe is slipped off and my foot is directed into a cool, unseen strip of water.

“There’s only a faint touch of moonlight here,” Juba says. “What do we do now?”

‘Draw water into the wound,’ Serapis whispers, making Helios and I flinch. ‘Feel the flow of my power and direct it. Make it force the poison from Selene’s body.’

“Easier said than done,” Helios mutters. “Can’t you just do it?”

“Who are you talking to?” Juba asks, but Helios doesn’t respond.

Instead, he sinks a bit lower, allowing the water to consume my leg up to the knee. “Ebb and flow,” Helios whispers. “Ebb and flow.”

When I close my eyes, I see Isis at my right, kneeling beside Juba. On my left, a pale-skinned man with flowing teal hair and eyes stands waist deep in the water. His gaze focuses intently on my leg, his hands hovering over Helios’, and ever so slowly the water starts to shift back and forth, back and forth.

“Oh,” I groan, my leg cramping from a strange tugging sensation, my wound burning.

‘Be strong,’ Isis says, and takes my hand in hers.

‘If only this were pure seawater,’ Serapis grumbles from between clenched teeth. ‘Work—I command you to work!’

I cry out as the pulling becomes a harsh tug, turning my face away from the stream and opening my eyes not to Isis, but Juba. He brings his face close enough that I can see him, and I feel his hand squeeze mine.

“The water’s turned red,” he says. “The pain will be gone soon.”

“You…you can tell?” I gasp. “Never mind. Your night vision truly is unmatched.”

‘There,’ Serapis sighs. ‘The worst is over. From here onward you will need rest and water to regain your strength. Take as much as you can from this stream, and no matter how far it is from the sea, my power will heal you.’

“Mutt,” Helios groans. “Juba. Take her.”

I’m only halfway into Juba’s arms when Helios falls flat on his side, his chest rising but otherwise unmoving.

“Helios!” I gasp.

‘The healing drained his strength,’ Serapis says, his voice fading. ‘Let the boy rest, for he’s earned it.’

“If you’re sure…”

“Are you speaking to a spirit?” Juba asks, shifting me to sit across his lap as he takes a seat beside Helios.

“Can you not hear them?” I ask in return.

“I can’t.”

Though my whole body has begun to throb, I smile. “It seems we’ve found the one thing you can’t see. I’d thought no such thing existed.”

“I find it hard to believe you’re well enough to be making jokes,” Juba chides. “But let me guess: in our first lives you’d found out I have exceptional sight whilst we were…ravaging Octavia’s pantry in the middle of some cold, spring night?”

“We’d actually been forgotten during an imprisonment in her wine cellar, and when the last candle died, you decided it was high time we find a way out.”

Juba is quiet a long while—so long in fact, that I begin to nod off. The growing pain in my otherwise numb limbs fuels my exhaustion, and this spot in Juba’s arms is so comfortable. Who knows when I’ll have the chance to sleep here again?

“You truly suffered in that first life, didn’t you?” Juba whispers, his words almost lost on me.

“Many…many had it…worse,” I say around a yawn. “But I had you, thus life was bearable.”

“You speak like you were in love with him—him. Not me. Not the Juba of this life, but someone I’ve never been and may never become.”

“In some ways, haven’t you already? Even now you could have set me down and walked away. You didn’t have to help Helios and I. You didn’t have to waste your hard-scavenged antidote. You—”

“I get it,” Juba groans. “You just…make me feel something I can’t understand, and when you speak of who I was…” He shakes his head. “The man I am now is neither soft nor kind. My body might act when it comes to your wellbeing, but my head is still trying to catch up. I don’t understand why the thought of you dying is more agonizing than the risk of losing my own life.”

“My, how touching,” a soft voice coos, drawing Juba’s eyes to our left.

“You could give Gustavian’s spies a run for their money,” he mutters.

“What a fine compliment,” Raja says, striding forward to loom over us. “Now tell me, what did I just witness, and who exactly are the two of you?”

“Beg pardon?”

“Royal children of a fallen land and a runaway slave are anomalies I was willing to gamble on. Spirit-blessed children and those who speak of past lives are a much graver risk.”

“You’ve known we are blessed,” I try, but Raja merely stamps her foot.

“Blessings are sacred and scarce, given to a precious few across the entire world. It is one thing to claim you have been chosen, but another to wield strange powers and prove it.”

“You can’t claim anyone here has lied to you,” Juba insists.

“If I’d any reason to believe that you had, then the three of you would be without your throats right now, and your sister would soon follow.”

 “What is it you wish to know?” I ask.

“Everything,” Raja says. “All of it—down to the last detail. You will explain yourselves until I am sure that you pose no threat to my homeland, my people, or my family.”

“And if we can’t?” Juba presses.

“Then your journey to Pataliputra will end where you sit.”

***