Children of Blood and Bone (Legacy of Orisha)

by Tomi Adeyemi

  I stare at her in bewilderment, head still pulsing with the thrum of flowing magic. Over the edge of the cliff, emerald-green foliage fills the crevices along the jagged stone. Beyond the lake’s outer rim, a small bank of trees blurs into white.

  “How in skies’ name did you do that?” I ask. There’s a beauty to this new world I cannot deny. It makes my entire body buzz as if I’ve consumed a whole bottle of rum.

  But the girl pays me no mind. Instead, she shimmies out of her draped pants. With a shout, she leaps from the cliff and hits the water with a splash.

  I lean over the ledge as she resurfaces, soaking wet. For the first time since I’ve known her, she smiles. True joy lights her eyes. The image brings me back, faster than I can stop it. The memory of Amari’s laughter feeds into my ears. Mother’s cries follow.…

  “Amari!” Mother shrieks, grabbing on to the wall when she almost slips.

  Amari giggles as she dashes away, soaking the tiled floor with the remnants of her bathwater. Though an army of nurses and nannies chase her down, they’re no match for the determined toddler. Now that Amari’s made a decision to escape, they’ve lost.

  She won’t stop till she gets what she wants.

  I jump over a fallen nanny and take off, laughing so hard I can barely breathe. One moment my shirt slips off my head. The next, my pants fly through the air. House servants laugh as we run by, stifling their giggles at Mother’s glare.

  By the time we reach the royal pool we’re two naked menaces, jumping in just in time to drench Mother’s finest gown.…

  I can’t remember the last time Amari giggled so hard water came out her nose. After I hurt her, she was never the same with me. Laughter was reserved for the likes of Binta.

  Watching the girl swim brings it all back, but the longer I gaze, the less I think of my sister. The girl slides out of her top and my breath falters. The water shimmers around her dark skin.

  Look away. I turn my head, attempting to study the grooves in the cliff instead. Women are distractions, Father would say. Your focus is on the throne.

  Just being near the girl feels like a sin, threatening the unbreakable law designed to keep maji and kosidán apart. But despite the rule, my eyes pull me back. She makes it impossible not to stare.

  A trick, I decide. Another way to get inside your head. But when she resurfaces, I’m at a loss for words.

  If it’s a trick, it’s working.

  “Really?” I force out. I try to ignore the curves of her body under the rippling water.

  She looks up and narrows her eyes, as if remembering I exist. “Forgive me, little prince. This is the most water I’ve seen since you burned down my home.”

  The crying villagers of Ilorin creep back into my mind. I squash the guilt like a bug. Lies. It’s her fault.

  She helped Amari steal the scroll.

  “You’re mad.” I cross my arms. Look away. I keep staring.

  “If your water cost a gold piece per cup, you’d be doing the same exact thing.”

  A gold piece a cup? I ruminate as she dives below the surface. Even for the monarchy, coin like that is a stretch. No one could sustain those prices. Not even in—

  Ibeji.

  My eyes widen. I’ve heard of the crooked guards who run that desert settlement. They’re crooked enough to overcharge, especially when water is scarce. It takes everything to keep a smile off my face. I’ve got her. And she doesn’t even know it.

  I close my eyes to leave the dreamscape, but the memory of Amari’s smile makes me pause.

  “My sister,” I call above the roaring water. “Is she alright?”

  The girl stares at me for a long moment. I don’t expect an answer, but something indecipherable burns in her eyes.

  “She’s scared,” she finally responds. “And she shouldn’t be the only one. You’re a maggot now, little prince.” Her eyes darken. “You should be scared, too.”

  * * *

  THICK AIR INVADES my lungs.

  Dense and heavy and hot.

  I open my eyes to find Orí’s painted image above my head. I’m back.

  “Finally.” Despite myself, I smile. This will all be over soon. When I catch her and that scroll, the threat of magic will die for good.

  Sweat drips down my back as my mind runs through the next steps. How close is the bridge to completion? How fast can we ride to Ibeji?

  I spring to my feet and grab my torch. I must find Kaea. It’s only when I whip around that I realize she’s already here.

  Sword outstretched. Pointed right at my heart.

  “Kaea?”

  Her hazel eyes are wide. The slightest tremble in her hand rocks her blade. She shifts, steadying its aim on my chest. “What was that?”

  “What was what?”

  “Don’t.” She speaks through her teeth. “You were muttering. Y-your head … it was surrounded by light!”

  The girl’s words echo through my ears.

  You’re a maggot now, little prince. You should be scared, too.

  “Kaea, put the sword down.”

  She hesitates. Her eyes go to my hair. The streak …

  It must be showing again.

  “It’s not what you think.”

  “I know what I saw!” Sweat drips from her forehead, pooling on her upper lip. She steps closer with her blade. I’m forced to back into the wall.

  “Kaea, it’s me. Inan. I would never hurt you.”

  “How long?” she breathes. “How long have you been a maji?” She hisses the word like it’s a curse. Like I’m the spitting image of Lekan. Not the boy she’s known since birth. The soldier she’s trained for years.

  “The girl infected me. It’s not permanent.”

  “You’re lying.” Her lips peel back in disgust. “Are you … are you working with her?”

  “No! I was looking for clues!” I step forward. “I know where she is—”

  “Stay back!” Kaea screams. I freeze, hands in the air. There’s no recognition in her eyes.

  Only unbridled fear.

  “I’m on your side,” I whisper. “I have been this entire time. In Ilorin, I felt her going south. In Sokoto, I sensed she’d been to that merchant.” I swallow hard, pulse rising when Kaea takes another step forward. “I’m not your enemy, Kaea. I’m the only way to track her down!”

  Kaea stares at me. The tremble of her blade grows.

  “It’s me,” I plead. “Inan. The crown prince of Orïsha. Heir to Saran’s throne.”

  At the mention of Father, Kaea falters. Her sword finally drops to the ground. Thank the skies. My legs wobble as I collapse against the wall.

  Kaea holds her head in her hands for a few minutes before looking at me. “This is why you’ve been acting so strange all week?”

  I nod, heart still slamming against my chest. “I wanted to tell you, but I had a feeling you would react like this.”

  “I’m sorry.” She leans against the wall. “But after what that maggot did to me, I had to make sure. If you were one of them…” Her eyes return to the streak in my hair. “I had to ensure you were on our side.”

  “Always.” I grip Father’s pawn. “I’ve never wavered. I want magic to die. I need to keep Orïsha safe.”

  Kaea studies me, keeping the slightest guard up. “Where is the maggot now?”

  “Ibeji,” I rush out. “I’m sure of it.”

  “Very well.” Kaea straightens up and sheathes her sword. “I came because the bridge is finished. If they’re in Ibeji, I’ll take a team and leave tonight.”

  “You’ll take a team?”

  “You must return to the palace at once,” Kaea says. “When the king finds out about this—”

  I can’t wait, the girl’s voice returns. I can’t wait till he finds out what you are. Let’s see how bold you feel when your father turns on his own son.

  “No!” I say. “You need me. You can’t track them without my abilities.”

  “Your abilities? You’re a liability, Inan. At any mom
ent you could turn against us or endanger yourself. And what if someone finds out? Think of how it will look for the king!”

  “You can’t.” I reach for her. “He won’t understand!”

  Kaea eyes the hallway, face ashen. She starts to back away.

  “Inan, my duty—”

  “Your duty is to me. I command you to stop!”

  Kaea takes off in a sprint, tearing through the dimly lit halls. I race after her and lunge forward, tackling her to the floor.

  “Kaea, please, just—ugh!”

  She drives her elbow into my sternum. Air catches in my throat. She breaks free of my hold, scrambling to her feet to scale the stairs.

  “Help!” Her screams are frantic now, echoing through the temple halls.

  “Kaea, stop!” No one can know about this. No one can know what I am.

  “He’s one of them!” she shrieks. “He has been all along—”

  “Kaea!”

  “Stop him! Inan is a maj—”

  Kaea freezes as if she’s run into an invisible wall.

  Her voice shrinks into silence. Her every muscle shakes.

  Turquoise energy swirls from my palm to Kaea’s skull, paralyzing her just like Lekan’s magic did. Kaea’s mind struggles to break free of my mental hold, fighting against a force I didn’t even know I could control.

  No …

  I stare at my quaking hands. I can’t tell whose fear surges through my veins.

  I’m really one of them.

  I’m the very monster I hunt.

  Kaea’s breath turns ragged as she writhes. My magic continues to swell out of control. A strangled scream escapes Kaea’s mouth.

  “Let go!”

  “I don’t know how!” I shout back, fear wrapping around my throat. The temple amplifies my abilities. The more I try to push my magic down, the harder it fights to get out.

  Kaea’s cries of agony grow. Her eyes turn red. Blood trickles from her ears, trailing down her neck.

  My thoughts run a million meters a second. All the pawns in my mind crumble to dust. There’s no way to fix this.

  If she feared me before, she abhors me now.

  “Please!” I beg. I have to keep her contained. She has to listen to me. I am her future king—

  “Ugh!”

  A shuddered gasp escapes Kaea’s lips. Her eyes roll back.

  The turquoise light binding her evaporates into nothingness.

  Her body hits the ground.

  “Kaea!” I run to her side and press my hand to her neck, but her pulse beats weakly under my fingers. After a moment, it’s nearly gone.

  “No!” I shout, as if my cries could bind her to life. Blood leaks from her eyes, down her nose. It trails from her mouth.

  “I’m sorry,” I choke through my tears. I try to wipe the blood from her face, but I only smear it over her skin. My own chest tightens, filling with the echo of her blood.

  “I’m sorry.” My vision blurs. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  “Maggot,” Kaea exhales.

  Then there’s nothing. Her body stiffens.

  The light fades from her hazel eyes.

  I don’t know how long I sit holding Kaea’s corpse. Blood drips onto the turquoise crystals lining her black hair. A mark of my curse. As they glint, the smell of iron and wine fills my nose. Fragments of Kaea’s consciousness take hold.

  I see the first day she met Father, the way she held him when the maji murdered his family. A kiss they shared in the secrecy of the throne room while Ebele bled out at their feet.

  The man who kisses Kaea is a stranger. A king I’ve never met. For him, Kaea is more than his sun. She’s all that’s left of his heart.

  And I took her away.

  With a start, I drop Kaea’s body, backing away from the bloodied mess. I push my magic so far down the ache in my chest is debilitating, sharp like the sword I might as well have put in Kaea’s back.

  Father can never know.

  This monstrosity never occurred.

  Maybe Father could’ve overlooked me being a maji, but he will never forgive this.

  After all this time, magic’s stolen his love once again.

  I take one step back. Then another. I step again and again, until I’m fleeing the horrible mistake. There’s only one way out of this mess.

  And she’s waiting in Ibeji.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  AMARI

  THOUGH THE GAMES have yet to start, the arena howls with excitement. Drunken cheers ring through the stone halls, each spectator hungry for blood. Our blood. I swallow hard and press my fists to my side to hide my trembling hands.

  Be brave, Amari. Be brave.

  Binta’s voice rings through my head with such clarity, it makes my eyes sting. When she was alive, the sound of her voice fortified something inside of me, but tonight her words are drowned out by the arena’s calls for carnage.

  “They’ll love this.” The announcer grins as he leads the three of us underground. “Women never compete as captains. ’Cause of you, we got to charge double.”

  Zélie snorts, but it lacks her usual bite. “Glad our blood is worth a little extra.”

  “Novelty’s always worth extra.” The announcer flashes her a disgusting smile. “Remember that in case you ever go into business. A maggot like you could turn a fair amount of coin.”

  Zélie grabs Tzain’s arm before he can react and fixes the announcer with a murderous glare. Her fingers slide along her metal staff.

  Do it, I almost whisper.

  If she beats the announcer senseless, perhaps we’ll have another shot at stealing the sunstone. Anything would be better than the fate that awaits us if we board that boat.

  “Enough talk.” Zélie takes a deep breath and unhands her staff.

  My heart sinks as we continue forward. To our deaths we go.

  When we enter the rusted cellar housing the ship, our designated crew barely looks up. The laborers appear small against the vast hull of the wooden vessel, weakened from years of hard work. Though most of them are divîners, the oldest appears to have only a year or two on Tzain. A guard unshackles their chains, a moment of false freedom before the slaughter.

  “Command them as you wish.” The announcer waves as if the laborers are cattle. “You have thirty minutes to strategize. Then the games begin.”

  With that he turns, retreating from the dark cellar. As soon as he’s gone, Tzain and Zélie pull loaves of bread and canteens from our packs and distribute them throughout the crowd. I expect the laborers to devour the meager feast, but they stare at the stale bread like it’s the first time they’ve ever seen food.

  “Eat,” Tzain coaxes. “But not too fast. Go slow or you’ll get sick.”

  One young divîner moves to take a bite of bread, but a gaunt woman holds him back.

  “Skies,” I mutter. The child can’t be much older than ten.

  “What is this?” an older kosidán asks. “Your idea of a last meal?”

  “No one’s going to die,” Tzain assures them. “Follow my lead and you’ll leave with your lives and the gold.”

  If Tzain feels even half the terror I do, he does not show it. He stands tall, commanding respect, confidence laced through his voice and gait. Watching him, it’s almost possible to believe we’ll be alright. Almost.

  “You can’t fool us with bread.” A woman with a grisly scar running across her eye speaks up. “Even if we win, you’ll kill us and keep the gold.”

  “We’re after the stone.” Tzain shakes his head. “Not the gold. Work with us and I promise you can keep every piece.”

  I study the crowd, hating the smallest part of me that wants them to revolt. Without a crew, we couldn’t enter the arena. Zélie and Tzain would have no choice but to stay off the ship.

  Be brave, Amari. I close my eyes and force a deep breath. Underground, the memory of Binta’s voice is louder, stronger inside my head.

  “You don’t have a choice.” All eyes turn to me and my cheeks
flush. Be brave. I can do this. This is no different from elocution at the palace. “It’s not fair and it’s not right, but it’s happening. Whether you want to work with us or not, you have to get on that boat.”

  I lock eyes with Tzain and he nudges me forward. I clear my throat as I walk, forcing myself to sound strong. “Every other captain competing tonight just wants to win. They don’t care who gets killed or hurt. We want you to live. But that’s only going to happen if you trust us.”

  The crew looks around the cellar before turning to the strongest among them—a divîner almost as tall as Tzain. A tapestry of scars ripple across his back as he walks over and meets Tzain’s eye.

  The air seems to hold its breath as we wait for his decision. My legs nearly collapse when he holds out his hand.

  “What do you need us to do?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  AMARI

  “CHALLENGERS IN POSITION!”

  The announcer’s voice booms below the arena. My heart lurches against my chest. Thirty minutes have passed in a blur as Tzain discussed strategies and delegated commands. He leads like a seasoned general, wise from years of war. The laborers hang on Tzain’s every word, a spark alight in their eyes.

  “Alright.” Tzain nods. “Let’s do this.”

  With more nourishment and renewed hope, the laborers move with purpose. But as everyone shuffles onto the deck of the ship, my feet grow heavy like lead. The roar of rushing water approaches, bringing back all the bodies that drowned in its wrath. I can already feel the water pulling down my limbs.

  This is it.…

  In moments, the games shall begin.

  Half the laborers settle into their rowing stations, ready to grant us speed. The rest take position around the cannons in the efficient formation Tzain conceived: two laborers maneuver the muzzle for aim, two load the blastpowder into the breech. Soon, everyone is on the boat.

  Everyone except me.

  With the water rising, I force my leaden feet to move and I board the ship. I walk across the deck to get in position behind a cannon, but Tzain blocks my path.

  “You don’t have to do this.”

  Terror rings so loudly in my ears it takes a moment to process Tzain’s words. You don’t have to do this.