Children of Virtue and Vengeance

by Tomi Adeyemi

  “Yours is different.” He blinks at me, a half smile rising to his tired face. His eyes fall closed as he breathes in my dreamscape, tasting the cinnamon-scented air.

  He forces me to take in the world around us, the magical space of my creation. A sea of deep blue flowers lie at our feet. A star-filled sky twinkles above.

  Though I’ve never set foot in this space, somehow it feels like returning to myself. In here, the air is sweet. The light shines brightly though there isn’t a moon.

  Inan bends down, smelling a flower before the half smile falls from his face.

  “Did you bring me here to kill me, or do you want to talk?”

  He keeps a joke in his tone, but I see the way his fingers tremble. The way he expects everything and everyone to hurt him. He carries the same scars I fight to live above.

  My eyes water as I take a step toward him. I break into a run when Inan opens up his arms. I think of how much I’ve missed him. How much I’ve wanted to hold him tight.

  Everything that’s passed between us flashes behind my eyes as I run. I see every way we’ve been hurt. Every face that we have lost. Binta. Admiral Kaea. Father. But worst of all, each other.

  The moment I place my head against his chest, I don’t know who weeps harder. Me, or him.

  * * *

  BY THE TIME our tears dry, it’s difficult to tell how long it’s been. Even pain is different in this magical space. It doesn’t hurt to cry.

  We settle into soft mounds of dirt, picking at the flowers at our feet. So much passes between us, but none of it needs words.

  “Are there flowers in yours?” I ask. Inan shakes his head.

  “Just reeds.” He holds a lily in front of his nose, plucking its petals off. “Zélie found a way to make forests and waterfalls, but I don’t know how to do more. I can’t even get back into mine. Every time I try, it feels like someone’s driving an axe into my brain.”

  I’m surprised at the smile that rises to his lips. Even after all that’s passed, she brings out a different side of him.

  “How is she?”

  I roll my eyes and look away. “She’s determined to kill you. Completely blinded by rage.”

  “Believe me, I know.” Inan peels up the hem of his shirt, allowing me to see the new scar across his side. “But when she’s not out for my blood, how is she? How does she feel?”

  I wrinkle my nose, attempting to see Zélie through another lens. We’ve been at each other’s throats for so long. I miss looking at her as my friend.

  “She has her clan now,” I speak slowly. “Not many Reapers, but enough. Taking care of them makes her happy. They actually make her laugh.”

  “That’s good.” Inan sinks into the flowers, a softness filling his amber eyes. “She deserves to be happy.”

  “You say that like we don’t.”

  “We’re royalty,” he snorts. “We suffer so everyone else can smile.”

  I hug my knees to my chest, hating the words he speaks. I’m tired of suffering because the people of this kingdom refuse to believe in peace. I know there’s a world where we can make this work. An Orïsha where maji, tîtáns, and kosidán can live as one.

  I still see the Orïsha of my dreams even if reality only gives me nightmares.

  “They’re training to annihilate you.” I exhale a deep breath. “I keep trying to convince the Iyika that peace can work, but they don’t trust the monarchy. They want to put Zélie on the throne.”

  “Zélie?” Inan shoots up, brows knitting together.

  “They call her the Soldier of Death. To them, she’s a living legend. But if that happens…” my voice trails as my chest grows tight. I want to believe that Zélie would do the right thing, but after all that’s happened since magic came back, that feels naive. She has no interest in unification. Only annihilation.

  “What are they after?” Inan asks. “What do they need to end the fighting?”

  “Power.” I picture the elders’ faces. “True freedom. They want an end to the torture and the baseless persecution. A real place in this monarchy and a say in what happens in this kingdom.”

  Inan inhales, chest seeming to expand with each demand. He rubs his fingers together as he considers my words.

  “That’s it?”

  I shrug. “More or less.”

  “Alright.” He nods. “How do I give that to them?”

  I grab onto his arm, eyes nearly bulging out of my head. “You’re serious?”

  “If that’s what it takes to end this war,” he says. “I want those things myself.”

  “I knew it!” I clap my hands together. Excitement floats like a balloon in my chest. But as soon as it rises, reality dawns. This still isn’t enough.

  “What’s wrong?” Inan asks when my shoulders slump.

  “It doesn’t matter that we want the same things. The Iyika will never trust that your declaration is real.” I shake my head. “As soon as they hear that I’ve talked to you against their orders, they’ll be too enraged to listen to what I have to say.”

  Inan rubs his fingers together, brows creasing as he thinks.

  “What if they don’t hear it from you?” he asks. “What if they hear it from me themselves? I could draw up a treaty. Present it to their leaders.”

  My heart skips a beat as I realize the sincerity of his words. If the king himself offered a treaty like this, even Zélie would have to listen.

  “You’d have to come alone…” I tread with care.

  “I don’t have a choice. After what happened at Chândomblé, the royal council would have me executed before they ever agreed to this.”

  “But how would you get out of the palace?” I ask.

  “Ojore will cover for me if he knows I’m going to meet with you.”

  Inan holds out his hand and a tightness fills my chest. This is everything I wanted; the peace I knew we could get.

  But as I stare at the lines along my brother’s palm, Zélie’s voice bleeds into my mind.

  He’ll do the right thing when it’s easy, but when it matters most, he’ll stab you in the back. You can’t trust him, Amari. All he leaves us with are scars.

  “What will happen to me?” I look up at him. “When you were gone, I prepared to be queen. What comes after peace?”

  Inan sets down his hand, considering my words. “Mother is a fierce ally, but she’s tainted by the past. Orïsha needs a queen who’s willing to do whatever it takes to make amends.”

  My fingers fall limp as Inan opens his arms, extending the invitation.

  “You mean it?” I ask.

  “We’ll rule the kingdom together,” he says. “The way we should’ve from the start.”

  The weight of the world falls off my shoulders as I lunge forward, wrapping my arms around my brother. My heart swells to see him this way. I always knew he could be a magnificent king.

  But as he hugs me back, a prickle erupts along my scars.

  I pray Zélie allows him to breathe long enough for us to bring Orïsha the peace we both desire.

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  ZÉLIE

  WHEN THE SUN climbs onto the horizon, none of my Reapers speak. We watch from a cliff as it sets the sky ablaze, warm rays spilling over the hilly terrain outside the sanctuary. It lights the blankets of fog seeping through the mammoth trees, revealing the baboonems that swing through the jungle leaves. I study the path I want to take as the sun’s rays reach our finish line.

  “Over there.” I point to the hill where Amari and I first trained. “First one to the top wins.”

  “That’ll be me.” Mári rubs her hands together. “Everyone else stay out of my way.”

  I smile at her resolve. The hill lies almost three kilometers outside the sanctuary’s mountain walls. This’ll be our greatest distance yet. After a half-moon of training, it’s the perfect way to test their mastery over our new incantations.

  “When I win, can I be your Second?” Mári asks.

  Behind me, Mâzeli crosses his a
rms. Though he’s gaining control over the incantation, he has yet to master the wings.

  “Whoever wins gets to brag till the end of time,” I offer instead. “These are the first Reaper races. Oya herself will sing the winner’s praises.”

  All three of their faces light up and a flutter fills my heart. I remember looking at Mama Agba the same way when she would tell us stories of the gods.

  I wait as they take position, prepping to recite the incantation. Bimpe cracks her knuckles. Mâzeli shakes out his leg.

  “Be safe.” I lift my hands. “Three … two…”

  “One!” Mári shouts. She takes off in a sprint, afro-puffs bouncing as she runs. The others scramble after her as she leaps from the cliff.

  “Èmí òkú, gba ààyé nínú mi—”

  Mári’s shadows shoot from her hands, weaving together to form a glider at her back. The wine-colored shadows shift with the changing currents, allowing her to surf the wind.

  Her laughter rings as she slips into the lead, nearing the grassy hill. But a strong gust of wind blows her off course. I have to navigate the flow myself as I take off.

  “—Jáde nínú àwon òjìjí re. Yí padà láti owó mi!”

  Below, Bimpe takes a different approach. Her shadows billow behind her in a large sheet, trapping the wind like the sails of a boat as she floats to the ground. When she nears the gushing river along the trail, she recites the incantation. The shadows of death dissipate in puffs of smoke, transforming to form a board under her feet.

  “Take that, Mári!” Bimpe beams as she surfs the thrashing currents with her wiry frame. Her waist-length braids bounce against her dark skin as the shadows propel her through the water.

  Incredible. I bring my shadows in, drawing closer to the trees to follow her path. I don’t think anyone will beat her until I hear Mâzeli’s shout.

  “—Yí padà láti owó mi!”

  He passes below, a blur arcing beneath the trees. His lavender shadows are still too weak to maintain their form, but he uses that weakness to his advantage. As soon as the shadows release, he casts again, molding the spirits into another rope. They wrap around the next branch and Mâzeli pulls, allowing him to shoot forward.

  “Keep going!” I shout from above, eyes wide at the sight. Mâzeli swings from shadow to shadow like a gorillion swinging from jungle vines. The way he moves steals the rest of my words. I never thought to use the shadows of death that way.

  When he lands on top of the hill, a swell of pride heats me from within.

  “I did it!” He punches up his arms. “I’m the greatest Reaper to ever live!”

  “No fair.” Mári lands after him. “I thought we had to fly!”

  My shadows dissipate as I touch onto the grassy hill. “I never said that.”

  Mâzeli stalks around the mountain with his hands on his hips and his chest raised. “I am the new Soldier of Death! No—call me its master!”

  “You are no master!” Mári huffs.

  I laugh as they bicker, wishing I could share their joy. At first I think of telling Tzain, but Roën sneaks his way into my mind. I can only imagine the trouble he’d get Mâzeli into once he saw how he could move. He’d probably try to induct the poor boy into his mercenary crew.

  I smile at the thought as I turn to greet Bimpe, hugging her as she climbs the hill. But when I near the slope, I spot a white streak moving below.

  Amari’s lithe form passes between two large hills in the distance, seemingly unaware of our presence. She doesn’t move like she’s taking a stroll. She moves like she doesn’t want to be seen.

  “Lead the others back,” I squeeze Mâzeli’s shoulder. “I want to check something out.”

  “Is everything alright?” he asks, and I nod.

  “I’ll meet you back at the temple.”

  He bows before turning to the others, and I jump from the ledge. By now the shadows of death are second nature. I don’t need to speak the incantation as they wrap around my arms, allowing me to glide to the ground.

  What are you doing? I tail Amari, lifting up a thick web of vines to follow her path. We haven’t spoken since I destroyed her scroll in the natural baths. According to Tzain, she actually expects me to apologize.

  She must be making a run for Lagos. I pinch my lips together, holding back my fist. I could knock out her teeth for this. What’s it going to take for her to realize the monarchy will never accept her bid for peace?

  “Amari, stop!” I break forward, following her into a jungle clearing. She freezes at the sound of my voice. I grab her shoulder and whip her around.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  The color drains from her cheeks, but she doesn’t speak.

  It’s only then that I see the second streak of white waiting in the trees.

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  ZÉLIE

  FOR A LONG MOMENT, shock steals my words. I don’t know how to process what’s before me. What it means for my clan. For the Iyika.

  But when the shock fades, my body shakes with a hatred that reaches new depths. Magic bites at my skin as I throw up my hand.

  “Give me one reason I shouldn’t kill you both!”

  “Zélie, no!” Amari throws herself in front of Inan, nostrils flared. But the sight of her only makes my magic surge. I aim my other hand at her chest.

  “How could you betray us like this?” I yell, scanning the trees for more soldiers in golden armor.

  “No need to search.” Inan steps out of his sister’s protection. “I came alone.”

  “Like hell you did.” Being this close to him makes me feel like glass. My fingers tremble as I try to keep my hands steady. I don’t know which incantation I should unleash.

  Hearing his voice, seeing his face—it makes my chest ache. It takes me back to the dreamscape; to the feel of his hands around my back. I remember every promise he made. Every lie he told.

  I feel every time he held my heart, only to crush it in his hands.

  “Zélie, please,” Amari begs. “Inan came here to offer a treaty to the council. He’s prepared to give you and the Iyika everything you want!”

  “His offers mean nothing.” I bare my teeth. “The maji won’t be free until every member of the royal family lies in the ground!”

  “Including me?” Amari yells. “I am the daughter of King Saran. The daughter of Queen Nehanda. I am part of the same family, yet you’ve trusted me to fight for your people! Why can’t you trust that I’m doing that now?”

  “After this, I don’t trust you at all!” I charge forward, making them stumble back. Shadows of death begin to build around me, wisps of smoke waiting for my command. I want to tear into them. I want to see their bodies crumble to ash. I can’t believe that after everything, Amari would do this.

  That she would put all my people at risk.

  “Do you honestly think a battle at Lagos’s gates is going to be enough to tear down the monarchy?” Amari asks. “Even if you win, think of your Reapers. Think of how many will die!”

  “Don’t you bring them into this!” My voice shakes as the shadows condense. But Amari raises her own hands. Blue light sparks at her fingertips.

  Her silent threat is an arrow to my chest. A chain wrapping around my neck. I taught her how to use her magic.

  Now she wields it against me.

  “I’m fighting for you now,” Amari whispers. “I’m fighting for Mâzeli and Mári and Bimpe. Even if you can’t see it.”

  I clench my teeth as Inan takes a step toward me, moving though Amari tries to keep herself between us. But Inan doesn’t let her act as a guard. He approaches me despite how my shadows froth and hiss at my back.

  “You keep acting like you don’t know me,” he speaks up. “Like you don’t know my heart. But I know you do. Zélie, I know because I still know you. The louder you scream, the more you fight, the more I see you haven’t changed.” He shakes his head. “You’re still that little girl. Terrified that the king is going to take away eve
rything you love.”

  The same terror he speaks of bubbles to the surface, but now it’s so much worse. Back then, Tzain and Baba were all that I had left. All I thought I would ever have in this world. But now I have Mâzeli and my Reapers. Mama Agba and the clans. If I lose them now, I won’t survive.

  I won’t be able to stitch the pieces of my heart together again.

  “You know me.” Inan’s voice drops to a whisper. “You know this is real. I want to keep every promise I made to you, Zél. I want to build a kingdom where you laugh every day. A land where you feel safe!”

  A slight quiver rocks his chin as he closes the distance between us, not stopping until my palm rests against his chest. His life lies in my hand, yet he still looks at me like I’m the only girl in Orïsha. Like I’m the only girl in the world.

  Tears prick at my eyes, but I don’t let them fall. I can’t when I know the cost of letting him into my heart. Giving in will only lead to more scars.

  “We’ve already done this dance,” I breathe. “You’ve already promised me a new Orïsha.”

  “I wasn’t the king before.” He lifts his hands. “This time I have the power to keep my word.”

  Pretty lies. I close my eyes. Pretty lies.

  I believed them once.

  Then Baba paid the price.

  “He’s drawn up a treaty.” Amari steps forward with raised hands. “One that gives you everything you want. This is how you can be free. How you can protect every person you love!”

  I look back and forth between their amber eyes. I hate the part of me that wants to lower my hands. The part of me desperate to believe there could be an end to this endless fight.

  “Moons ago it was you and Amari asking me to see reason when I was filled with hatred and doubt.” Inan closes his eyes. “Think of all the lives we could’ve saved if I had been the leader I needed to be then. Think of how many maji you can save by being that leader now.”

  His words bring me back in time. I know the moment he speaks of. Right before Amari and Tzain were taken. Before we found Zulaikha and the divîner settlement.

  “It’s not fair to ask you to trust me,” Inan says. “Not after all I’ve done. All you’ve lost. But if you really want to protect your clan, why not choose peace? Why not choose the only monarchs in Orïsha who will give you what you want?”