you could’ve gotten away.”
“I couldn’t resist.” Roën grins like a foxer, revealing teeth that shine a little too bright. “From behind I saw only the beautiful staff. I didn’t know it’d be on a beautiful girl.”
I glare at him, but it only makes his smile wider. “As I said before, love”—he gives a little bow—“till we meet again.”
With that he saunters off, walking over to Kwame in the distance. They grasp each other’s fists in a familiar greeting, exchanging words I can’t hear.
Kwame eyes me for a second before the two disappear into a tent. I can’t help but wonder what Kwame would be doing meeting with a man like that.
“Thanks,” I say to Inan as I run my fingers over the carved staff markings. It’s the only thing I have left from Ilorin. The only tie to the life I once had. I think back to Mama Agba, wishing I could see her and Baba again.
“If I knew all it took to distract you was a charming smile, I would’ve tried that ages ago.”
“It wasn’t his smile.” I lift my chin. “I’ve never seen someone from another land.”
“Ah, was that all it was?” Inan grins, subtle yet completely disarming. In our time together I’ve seen everything from rage to pain play across his lips, but never anything close to an actual smile. It creates a dimple in his cheek, crinkling the skin around his amber eyes.
“What is it?” he asks.
“Nothing.” I turn back to my staff. Between the kaftan and the smile, it’s hard to believe I’m still looking at the little prince—
“Ugh!”
Inan’s grin transforms to a wince. He clenches his teeth and grips his side.
“What’s wrong?” I put my hand on his back. “Do you need me to get Zu?”
He shakes his head, exhaling a frustrated breath. “This isn’t the type of thing she could heal.”
I tilt my head until I realize the meaning behind his words. He looked so different in a cobalt kaftan I didn’t even notice the air around him was cold.
“You’re suppressing your magic.” My heart falls in my chest. “You don’t have to, Inan. No one here knows who you are.”
“It’s not that.” Inan braces himself before standing up straight. “There are too many people. I have to control it. If I let it out, someone could get hurt.”
Once again, I get a glimpse of the broken little prince who charged me with his blade; I knew he was scared, but was he really this afraid of himself?
“I can help you.” I drop my hand. “At least a little. If you learned how to control it, it wouldn’t hurt you like this.”
Inan pulls at the collar of his kaftan, though it hangs loose around his neck. “You wouldn’t mind?”
“It’s fine.” I grab his arm, leading him away from the crowds. “Come on. I know a place we can go.”
* * *
THE GOMBE RIVER TRICKLES BESIDE US, filling the air with its song. I thought the new surroundings might calm Inan, but now that we sit, I realize I need calming myself. The nerves that hit when Zu asked me to lead the maji return, stronger this time. I don’t know how to help Inan. I’m still trying to figure Reaper magic out myself.
“Talk to me.” I take a deep breath and feign the confidence I wish I had. “What does your magic feel like? When does it hit you the strongest?”
Inan swallows, fingers twitching around a phantom object. “I don’t know. I don’t understand anything about it at all.”
“Here.” I reach into my pocket and place a bronze piece into his palm. “Stop fidgeting, you’re making me itch.”
“What’s this?”
“Something you can play with without poisoning yourself. Have at it and calm down.”
Inan smiles again, this time fully, one that reaches and softens his eyes. He runs his thumb over the cheetanaire engraved in the coin’s center, marking it as Orïshan. “I don’t think I’ve ever held a bronze piece.”
“Ugh,” I choke in disgust. “Keep facts like that to yourself or I won’t be able to stomach this.”
“Forgive me.” Inan tests the weight of the coin in his palm. “And thank you.”
“Thank me by making this work. When was the last time you really let your magic flow?”
With the bronze piece passing between his fingers, Inan begins to think. “That temple.”
“Chândomblé?”
He nods. “It amplified my abilities. When I was trying to find you, I sat under a painting of Orí and … I don’t know. It was the first time I felt like there