get when you use your magic or the pain of pushing it all down?”
Inan jerks back. “You can’t possibly understand.”
“Oh, I understand perfectly.” I get in his face, close enough to see the stubble dotting his cheeks. “You would let your sister die and see all of Orïsha burn if it meant keeping your magic a secret.”
“Keeping my magic a secret is how I keep Orïsha safe!” The air warms as his powers surge. “Magic is the root of all our problems. It’s the root of Orïsha’s pain!”
“Your father is the root of Orïsha’s pain!” My voice shakes with anger. “He’s a tyrant and a coward. That’s all he’ll ever be!”
“My father is your king.” Inan closes in. “A king trying to protect his people. He took magic away so Orïsha would be safe.”
“That monster took magic away so that he could slaughter thousands. He took magic away so the innocent couldn’t defend themselves!”
Inan pauses. The air continues to warm as guilt creeps into his expression.
“He did what he thought was right.” He speaks slowly. “But he wasn’t wrong to take magic away. He was wrong for the oppression that followed.”
I dig my hands into my hair, skin growing hot at Inan’s ignorance. How can he defend his father? How can he not see what’s truly going on?
“Our lack of power and our oppression are one and the same, Inan. Without power we’re maggots. Without power the monarchy treats us like scum!”
“Power is not the answer. It will only intensify the fight. Maybe you can’t trust my father, but if you could learn to trust me, to trust my guards—”
“Trust the guards?” I scream so loud there’s no doubt every fighter hidden in this godsforsaken forest hears my voice quake. “The same guards who chained my mother by her neck? The guards who beat my father half to death? The guards who grope me whenever they have a chance, just waiting for the day they can take everything when I’m forced into the stocks?”
Inan’s eyes grow wide, but he presses, “The guards I know are good. They keep Lagos safe—”
“My gods.” I stalk away. I can’t listen to this. I’m a fool for thinking we could ever work together.
“Hey,” he yells. “I’m talking to you.”
“I’m done talking, little prince. Clearly you’ll never understand.”
“I could say the same thing!” He runs after me with labored steps. “You don’t need magic to fix things.”
“Leave me alone—”
“If you could just see where I’m coming from—”
“Go—”
“You don’t have to be afraid—”
“I am always afraid!”
I don’t know what shocks me more—the power in my voice or the words themselves.
Afraid.
I am always afraid.
It’s a truth I locked away years ago, a fact I fought hard to overcome. Because when it hits, I’m paralyzed.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t talk.
All at once, I crumple to the ground, clasping my palm over my mouth to stifle the sobs. It doesn’t matter how strong I get, how much power my magic wields. They will always hate me in this world.
I will always be afraid.
“Zélie—”
“No,” I breathe through my sobs. “Stop. You think you know what it’s like, but you don’t. You never will.”
“Then help me.” Inan kneels by my side, careful to keep his distance. “Please. I want to understand.”
“You can’t. They built this world for you, built it to love you. They never cursed at you in the streets, never broke down the doors of your home. They didn’t drag your mother by her neck and hang her for the whole world to see.”
Now that the truth is out, there’s nothing I can do to stop. My chest billows as I sob. My fingers tremble at the terror.
Afraid.
The truth cuts like the sharpest knife I’ve ever known.
No matter what I do, I will always be afraid.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
INAN
ZÉLIE’S PAIN FALLS through the air like rain.
It sinks into my skin.
My chest heaves with her sobs. My heart rips with her anguish.
And all the while I feel a terror unlike anything I’ve ever known. It crushes my soul.
It destroys all will to live.
This can’t be her world.…
This can’t be the life Father built. But the longer her pain grips me, the more I realize: this fear is always there.
“If your guards were here, everything would be just as broken, just as hopeless. There’s no living under their tyranny. Our only salvation is power.”
As soon as the words leave her mouth, Zélie’s sobs quiet. It’s like she’s remembered a deeper truth. A way to escape the pain.
“Your people, your guards—they’re nothing more than killers,