Children of Blood and Bone - Tomi Adeyemi Page 0,107

they ran through me like blood. No matter what the world said, my magic was beautiful. Even without powers, the gods had blessed me with a gift.

But Inan’s tears brought it all back, the lethal lie this world forces us to swallow. Saran did well.

Inan already hates himself more than I ever could.

“Alright,” he whispers. “It’s time.”

It takes an unusual amount of effort to unclench my fingers and hand him my leather pack.

“Don’t overextend yourself,” he warns. “And remember, keep some animations behind to provide a defense.”

“I know, I know.” I roll my eyes. “Get on with it.”

Though I don’t want to feel anything, my stomach clenches as Inan emerges from the shadows and stalks toward the gate. The memory of his rough hand in my own comes back to me. A strange comfort filled me from his touch.

The two masked figures posted at the entrance point their weapons. The ones hidden in the shadows shift as well. From above, I hear a chorus of plucks: bowstrings with arrows being pulled taut.

Though I know Inan can sense it all, he walks with brash confidence. He doesn’t stop until he’s hundreds of meters ahead, halfway between me and the entrance.

“I’ve come to make a trade,” he declares. “I have something you want.”

He drops my pack to the ground and removes the sunstone. I should’ve prepared him for the rush. Even from afar, I hear a gasp.

A tremor runs from his hands to his head, his palms pulsing with a soft blue light. I wonder if Orí appears behind his eyes.

The show is exactly what the masks needs. A few slither out of the shadows and begin to circle him, weapons raised and ready to strike.

“On your knees,” a masked woman barks, cautiously leading the charge outside the gate. She points her ax and gives a nod, drawing more of their fighters out of hiding.

Gods. There are already more than we bargained for. Forty … fifty … sixty? How many more aim at him from the trees?

“Bring out the prisoners first.”

“After you’re restrained.”

The wooden gate swings open. Inan surveys the female leader and takes a step back.

“I’m sorry.” Inan turns. “I’m afraid I can’t make that deal.”

I bolt from the underbrush, sprinting as fast as my legs will take me. Inan hurls the sunstone like an agbön ball, thrusting with all his might. It sails through the air with impressive speed. I have to leap to catch it. I clutch it to my chest and somersault as I hit the ground.

“Ah!” I wheeze as the sunstone fills me, an intoxicating rush I’m beginning to crave. Heat explodes under my skin as its power surges, igniting all the ashê in my blood.

Behind my eyes a different glimpse of Oya plays, red silks luminescent against her black skin. Wind swirls her skirts and twists in her hair, making the beads dance around her face.

A white light radiates from her palm as she reaches out her hand. I can’t feel my body, yet I feel myself reaching back. In one fleeting moment, our fingers brush—

The world rumbles to life.

“Get her!”

Someone cries beyond me, but I can’t truly hear it. Magic roars from my blood, amplifying spirits far and wide. They call to me, rising like a tsunami wave. Their thrum overpowers the sounds of the living.

Like tides pulled by the moon, the souls crash into me.

“4mí àwọn tí ó ti sùn—”

I thrust my hand into the earth. A deep fracture ripples through it at my touch.

The ground beneath us groans as an army of the dead rises from the dirt.

They swirl out of the ground, a hurricane of twigs and rocks and soil. Their bodies harden with the silver glow of my magic. I unleash the storm.

“Attack!”

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

AMARI

A SHARP CRACK rings through the air.

I reel as Kwame’s fist crashes into Tzain’s jaw.

Tzain’s head lolls to the side, a mess of reds and blacks and bruises.

“Stop it!” I scream, tears spilling down my cheeks. Fresh blood drips into Tzain’s eye, undoing all of Zu’s healing.

Kwame pivots and grabs my chin. “Who else knows you’re here? Where are the rest of your soldiers?” Despite everything, his voice is strained, almost heavy with desperation. It’s like this is hurting him as much as it’s hurting me.

“There are no soldiers. Go find the maji we’re traveling with. She’ll confirm that everything I’ve said is true!”

Kwame closes his eyes and breathes deeply. He stays so still, a shudder runs through me.

“When they came to Warri, they looked like you.” He