Children of Blood and Bone - Tomi Adeyemi Page 0,104

she doing this? How has her magic come so far so fast? She must’ve been a baby when the Raid occurred. Where did she learn the incantation she’s whispering now?

“What’re you doing to him?”

Zu doesn’t answer, teeth clenched in a grimace. Beads of sweat form at her temple. The slightest quiver rocks her hand. A light fills Tzain’s skin as his visible cuts shrink into nothingness. The black and purple bruises fade completely, restoring him to the handsome boy who’s fought by my side.

“Thank the skies.” My body relaxes as Tzain grunts, the first sound he’s made since we were abducted. Though he remains unconscious, he stirs slightly against his rope.

“You’re a Healer?” I ask.

Zu glances at me, though it’s like she doesn’t see me at all. She focuses on the scratches on my skin like she’s searching for more things she can fix. It’s as if her need to heal isn’t only in her magic, it’s in her heart.

“Please,” I try once more. “We are not your enemy.”

“Yet you have our scroll?”

Our? I focus on the word. It can’t be a coincidence that she, Kwame, and Folake are all maji. There must be more outside this tent.

“We weren’t alone. The girl Kwame couldn’t apprehend was a maji, a powerful Reaper. We’ve been to Chândomblé. A sêntaro revealed the secrets of that scroll—”

“You’re lying.” Zu crosses her arms. “A kosidán like you would never meet a sêntaro. Who are you really? Where is the rest of the army?”

“I’m telling you the truth.” My shoulders slump. “Just like I told Kwame. If neither of you will believe me, there’s nothing I can do.”

Zu sighs and removes the scroll from inside her kaftan. As she unravels it, her hard exterior drops. A wave of sadness settles in. “The last time I saw this, I was cowering under a fishing boat. I was forced to sit and watch as royal guards cut my sister down.”

Skies …

Zu has the same eastern drawl in her voice. She must have been in Warri when Kaea recovered the scroll. Kaea thought that she killed all the new maji, but Zu, Kwame, and Folake must have found a way to survive.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “I cannot imagine what that must’ve been like.”

Zu stays silent for a long moment. A weariness weighs her down that makes her seem so much older than her young years.

“I was a baby when the Raid happened. I don’t even remember what my parents looked like. All I remember was feeling afraid.” Zu bends down, yanking the wild grass at her feet until their roots rip from the ground. “I always wondered what it would be like to live with the memories of something so horrible. I don’t have to imagine what that’s like anymore.”

Binta’s face breaks into my mind; her bright smile, her dazzling lights. For a moment the memory shines in all its old glory.

Then it turns red, drowning in her blood.

“You’re a noble.” Zu rises and walks toward me, a new fire alight in her eyes. “I can practically smell it on you. I won’t let your monarchy take us down.”

“I’m on your side.” I shake my head. “Release me, and I can prove that to you. The scroll can do more than give magic back to those who touch it. It has a ritual that will bring magic back throughout the land.”

“I can see why Kwame has his guard up.” Zu steps away. “He thinks you’ve been sent to infiltrate us. With such clever lies, I think he could be right.”

“Zu, please—”

“Kwame.” Her voice cracks. She clutches the neckline of her kaftan as he enters.

He runs his fingers over the blade of the bone dagger, threat evident on his face.

“Is it time?”

Zu’s chin quivers as she nods. She squeezes her eyes shut.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “But we have to protect ourselves.”

“Go,” Kwame instructs her. “You don’t need to see this.”

Zu rubs her tears and backs out of the tent, sparing me one last look. When she’s gone, Kwame steps into my line of vision.

“I hope you’re ready to tell the truth.”

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

INAN

“ZÉLIE?”

I shout her name, though I doubt she’ll answer my call. After the way she ran away from me earlier, part of me wonders if I’ll be able to find her at all.

The sun begins to set, disappearing behind hills on the horizon. Twisting shadows stretch around me as I lean against a tree to rest.

“Zélie, please,” I call between pants, gripping the bark when an ache cuts