Raybearer

  “Yes,” she whispered at last. “To reach my eternal rest, I will join the parade of all dead souls. And for every step I take, I will feel any pain that I caused out of malice or neglect while I lived. But I was able to wait. I wanted to see you first.”

  “Why?” I demanded. “Because you still want me to overthrow Dayo? Because you want me to betray Songland to the abiku, like you were planning to?”

  The Lady flinched, and then set her jaw. “You are my daughter,” she said. “I wanted to say goodbye.”

  I examined her, expecting to see flickers of cunning: a hint that she was bending my emotions to her will again. But all I saw was a proud, lonely woman, frail from poison, searching my face for traces of the dream she had lost.

  “It was a game, you know,” she murmured. “I played it the only way I knew how. Aritsar would not have crowned me without an army, and so I made promises to gain Songland’s support. But if I had let the abiku take Arit children instead of Songlanders . . . even an army would not have saved me. Woo In doesn’t understand. I couldn’t free the Redemptor children, but I would have been good to him. I would have . . .” She trailed off, her expression growing vacant. Suddenly, she looked very old and very young at the same time. “That boy must be suffering, all alone again on Sagimsan. I will send Kathleen to nurse him. He was helpless when I found him. I crossed realms to form my council, saved outcasts, prodigies that the world ignored. I gave them communities. I made them useful.”

  I smiled ruefully, remembering Melu’s description of a young bandit queen.

  “There are so many still out there: geniuses waiting to be seen and recognized. My council can continue my work. You will be confined to this lofty palace, ruling Aritsar from above. But my people will be on the streets below, helping you rule from within.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t need your—”

  “My enemies think I have lost,” she interrupted. “But they are wrong. I said I would put an empress on the throne of Aritsar, and I have.” She pressed her lips together. “Through you, my legacy lives.”

  You didn’t make me empress, I wanted to snap. You didn’t make me who I am. I am not the sequel of your story. You did not give me my name.

  Instead, I leaned up and kissed her smooth cheek. It was cold as stone. I slipped her a memory of a cooing baby in Bhekina House: a little girl who wanted for nothing, content in The Lady’s embrace.

  “Goodbye, Mother,” I said.

  “Goodbye, Made-of-Me.” Water glistened in her brilliant black eyes, but she didn’t follow me as I let her go and walked to the door. As I stepped out into the corridor, I closed off the past, embracing that murky horizon, my shore of unsung stories.

  But The Lady spoke one more time, her voice quiet as a sowanhada wind, and as wonderstruck as a little girl, gazing from her only window at the vast savannah sky.

  Tarisai, she said, Tarisai Idajo.

  THE WORLD OF RAYBEARER

  CAST OF CHARACTERS AND THEIR HOME REALMS

  Tarisai (TAR-ree-sigh), Swana

  Sanjeet (Sahn-JEET), Dhyrma

  Ekundayo (EH-kuhn-DYE-oh), Oluwan

  Kirah (KEE-rah), Blessid Valley

  Mbali (Mm-BAH-lee), Swana

  Thaddace (THAD-us), Mewe

  The Lady, Unknown

  Olugbade (Oh-loo-BAWD-day), Oluwan

  Theo (THEE-oh), Sparti

  Emeronya (EHM-er-OH-nyuh), Biraslov

  Ai Ling (Eye-leeng), Moreyao

  Mayazatyl (MYE-ah-ZAH-tuhl), Quetzala

  Thérèse (Tay-RES), Nontes

  Kameron (KAM-ruhn), Mewe

  Zathulu (Zah-THOO-loo), Djbanti

  Umansa (Oo-MAHN-sah), Nyamba

  Woo In (OO-een), Songland

  Melu (MEH-loo), Swana

  Hye Sun (HEH-sun), Songland

  Min Ja (MEEN-jah), Songland

  Nawusi (Nah-WOO-zee), Nyamba

  Aiyetoro (EYE-yeh-TOH-roh), Oluwan

  GLOSSARY

  abiku (ah-BEEK-oo): Spirits of death that inhabit the Underworld.

  abiku blood: A potent poison that can spread through earth, leeching life from everything it touches.

  agbada (ahg-BAH-tah): A sweeping, floor-length men’s garment with long, loose sleeves and cloth that drapes generously over each shoulder.

  alagbato (ah-lahg-BAH-toh): A guardian spirit, or fairy, of a natural resource, such as a forest, river, savannah, or larger region.

  An-Ileyoba (Ahn-Ee-lay-OH-ba): The palace at the heart of Oluwan City, the capital of Oluwan.

  Biraslov (BEE-rah-slahv): A snowy realm in the far northern regions of the Arit empire, predominantly occupied by People of the Wing. Home realm of Emeronya, a member of Dayo’s council.

  Blessid Valley (Bleh-SEED VAL-ee): A desert realm of nomads in the Arit empire, located south of the center Arit realms. Blessid Valley occupants are predominantly People of the Wing and are known for herding, pottery, and strong familial clans. Home realm of Kirah, a member of Dayo’s council.

  Bushland: Supernatural stretches of land created by Enoba the Perfect when he united the Arit continent. Also called “the Bush.” Bushlands play a role in regulating the climate of the Arit continent and are often inhabited by spirits.

  Bush-spirit: An often-malicious spirit that inhabits the Bush.

  chin chin (cheen-cheen): Sweet, bite-size pieces of fried dough.

  Core: The ultimate resting place of all souls, a paradise located in a supernatural dimension at the center of the earth.

  Dhyrma (DER-mah): A realm in the eastern reaches of the Arit empire, known for gemstones and luxury goods and predominantly occupied by People of the Ember. Home realm of Sanjeet, a member of Dayo’s council.

  Djbanti (Jih-BAHN-tee): One of four realms in the center of the Arit empire. Known for a culture of hunting and scholarship, and home realm to Zathulu, a member of Dayo’s council.

  Egungun’s (Eh-GOON-GOON-z) Parade: The purgatorial march in which all souls participate before entering the permanent afterlife of Core.

  ehru (EH-roo): An enslaved spirit.

  emi-ehran (EH-mee-EH-rahn): A spirit-beast of the Underworld, typically sent to comfort lost or dying souls.

  fufu (foo-foo): A food made of cassava flour and water, cooked to a consistency similar to mashed potatoes.

  gele (GEH-lay): A headdress made of elaborately folded bright starched cloth.

  Ileyoba (Ee-lay-OH-ba): The central district of Oluwan City, in which the palace, as well as the luxury villas of the nobility, are located.

  iyaloye (EE-yah-LOY-ay): An Arit crown princess.

  matemba (maht-EHM-bah) fish: A type of dried fish, often used in stew.

  Mewe (Myoo): A northern realm in the Arit empire, known for its sheep herders, wool exports, and craggy green landscape. Home realm of Kameron, a member of Dayo’s council.

  moi moi (MOY-moy): Steamed bean pudding.

  Moreyao (Mor-ree-yow): A northeastern realm in the Arit empire, known for elaborate silk textiles and prosperous rice paddy farms. Home realm of Ai Ling, a member of Dayo’s council.

  Nontes (Nawnt): A northwestern realm in the Arit empire, known for its lace textiles, rose gardens, and gray weather. Home realm of Thérèse, a member of Dayo’s council.

  Nyamba (Nee-AHM-bah): One of four realms in the center of the Arit empire. Known for its experts in divination and artisanal weaving, and home realm to Umansa, a member of Dayo’s council.

  oba (OH-BAH): An Arit emperor.

  obabirin (OH-bah-BEE-reen): An Arit empress.

  oloye (oh-LOY-eh): An Arit crown prince.

  Oluwan (OH-loo-awn): The capital of the Arit empire and one of four central realms. The largest hub of trade, research, and cultural preservation and known for its orange groves and coastal fortresses. Home to the wealthiest Arit noble families and seat of the emperor.

  Oruku (Oh-ROO-koo) Breach: The last known entrance to the Underworld, located in the Ebujo Temple in the realm of Oluwan.

  Quetzala: A southern realm in the
Arit empire known for its rainforests and highly advanced architecture. Predominantly inhabited by People of the Well and is the home realm of Mayazatyl, a member of Dayo’s council.

  Redemptor: A person born with maps on their skin, compelled by the Redemptor Treaty to enter the Underworld as a sacrifice to prevent attacks from the abiku.

  Songland: A peninsula nation hedged by enchanted mountains that protect the realm from intruders. The only realm on the continent independent from the Arit empire. Known for its enchanted sowanhada warriors and Redemptors, and home to Woo In, the notorious “Traitor Prince” and son of Queen Hye Sun.

  sowanhada (soo-AHN-ah-da): A powerful language unique to Songland that permits the user to control various elements.

  Sparti (SPAR-tee): A southern coastal realm in the Arit empire, known for its fishing industry, sculptures, and musician-poets. Home realm of Theo, a member of Dayo’s council.

  sprite: A small, capricious spirit that inhabits fertile fields and forests. Often found in swarms and poached for use as a light source.

  Swana (SWAHN-nah): One of four central realms in the Arit empire, known for its supernaturally fertile crops and powerful alagbato, Melu. Predominantly home to People of the Clay. Home realm of Tarisai, a member of Dayo’s council.

  wrapper: A long woven garment, often intricately dyed or embroidered, that wraps several times beneath the arms.

  Yorua Keep: A coastal, highly guarded fortress in Oluwan that houses the Prince’s Council.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  The paradox of writing a book is that most of the work is done in isolation, but none of it would be possible without an army supporting you every step of the way. My army fought for this book for over twelve years.

  Thanks to Kim-Mei, my wonderful agent, who took a chance on an unknown writer, and then proceeded to advocate for this book with tenacity and conscientiousness like I had never seen.

  Thanks to Maggie, my brilliant editor, who worked on this book with such genuine enthusiasm that every critique felt like a gift.

  Thanks to Shasta Clinch, my copyeditor, who has an eye for detail that would definitely qualify as a Hallow, and who navigated the rules of my universe better than I ever could.

  Thanks to Brooke Shearouse, who I’m half convinced is Supergirl and using her job as an extremely competent publicist as a cover. Thanks to the rest of the publicity, marketing, and editing team at Abrams for their brilliant hard work.

  Thanks to Charles Chaisson for his breathtaking artwork, and to Hana Nakamura for her thoughtful and inspired book design.

  Thanks to Mom, who kept her daughter well supplied in books and trips to the library. Thanks to Dad, who bought me my first hardcover journal for my tenth birthday, and who was perhaps the first person to take a dramatic little girl seriously as a writer. Thanks to Miss Viv and Pop Herman, for their heartfelt encouragement, and to Mom Herman, for her boundless advocacy and enthusiasm. Thanks to Josh, for his excitement about this book taking off, and to Rachael-bug, who probably is the soul and spirit behind every spunky, resilient, and kind-hearted teen heroine I ever write.

  Thanks to Auntie Lisa, Uncle Femi, and Auntie Monica, for being the most tireless, relentless cheerleaders I have ever had—at every stage of my life. Every one. Few people have the benefit of love and support that is utterly without conditions, and I’m privileged to find myself so lucky.

  Thanks to Auntie Kemi, who found the time to give thoughtful feedback for every single chapter of my first novel when I was fifteen.

  Thanks to Grandma, who was the first to discuss one of my stories as if it were a piece of literature (which made my head grow three sizes as a teenager). Thanks to Grandpa, who never tuned out his story-spinning granddaughter when she chattered for hours on end.

  Thanks to Auntie Ifueko and Auntie Tonia, who refreshed my love for the cultures in which my ancestors were raised.

  Thanks to Tia, my therapist, who helped silence my anxiety monster with weapons of compassion and common sense.

  Thanks to Bettyann Henderson, my high school creative writing tutor, who wouldn’t let me be content with being a pretentious know-it-all and made me strive to improve.

  Thanks to Strange Horizons, which was the first publication to expose my voice to a broader audience.

  Thanks to Kathryn Woods, Rebecca Seidler, Bethany Garber, and Jaiden Cox, the most splendid band of beta readers a writer could ask for.

  Thanks to Tara Newby, my real-life Kirah, the anchor in my storms, who championed this book since its infancy in the margins of my tenth-grade humanities homework.

  Thanks to my husband, David, my real-life YA romantic hero and dearest friend in this whole wide world. Without your clear-eyed sanity, life-giving humor, and fathomless devotion, this process could never have been completed. I love you more than a thousand griot songs could ever say.

  And thanks to God, my personal Storyteller, who quieted the storms, and never let me stop reaching for the sunshine.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Jordan Ifueko grew up under a blanket fort, eating fried plantains and reading comic books. Eventually, she switched the comics for a tea-stained notebook. She now lives in Los Angeles with her husband, David, and their collection of Black Panther Funko Pops.

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