Children of Blood and Bone - Tomi Adeyemi Page 0,118
was something I could control.”
The dreamscape. I think back to the last time we were there, wondering what I must’ve said. Did I give something away?
“How does it work?” I ask. “There are times when it feels like you’re reading a book inside my head.”
“More like a puzzle than a book,” Inan corrects me. “It’s not always clear, but when your thoughts and emotions are intense, I feel them, too.”
“You get that with everyone?”
He shakes his head. “Not to the same degree. Everyone else feels like being caught in the rain. You’re the whole tsunami.”
I freeze at the power of his words, trying to imagine what that would be like. The fear. The pain. The memories of Mama being ripped away.
“Sounds awful,” I whisper.
“Not always.” He stares at me like he can see straight into my heart, straight into everything I am. “There are times when it’s amazing. Beautiful, even.”
My heart swells in my chest. A coil of hair falls in front of my face, and Inan tucks it behind my ear. Goosebumps prickle down my neck when his fingers brush my skin.
I clear my throat and look away, ignoring the thumping inside my head. I don’t know what’s going on, but I know I can’t allow myself to feel like this.
“Your magic is strong.” I push the focus back. “Believe it or not, it comes naturally to you. You channel things instinctively that most maji would need a powerful incantation to do.”
“How can I control it?” Inan asks. “What do I do?”
“Close your eyes,” I instruct. “Repeat after me. I don’t know Connector incantations, but I do know how to ask for help from the gods.”
Inan closes his eyes and grips the bronze piece tight.
“It’s simple—Orí, bá mi s0r0.”
“Ba me sorro?”
“Bá mi s0r0.” I correct his pronunciation with a smile. It’s endearing how clumsy Yoruba sounds on his lips. “Repeat it. Picture Orí. Open yourself up and ask for his help. That’s what being a maji is about. With the gods on your side, you’re never truly alone.”
Inan looks down. “They’re really always there?”
“Always.” I think back to all those years I turned my back on them. “Even in the darkest times the gods are always there. Whether we acknowledge them or not, they always have a plan.”
Inan’s hand closes over the bronze piece, face turning pensive.
“Alright.” He nods. “I want to try.”
“Orí, bá mi s0r0.”
“Orí, bá mi s0r0,” he chants under his breath, fingers twisting around the bronze piece. At first nothing happens, but as he continues, the air begins to heat. A soft blue glow appears in his hands. The light creeps its way over to me.
I close my eyes as the world spins away, a hot rush, just like the other day. When the spinning ends, I’m back in the dreamscape.
But this time when the reeds tickle my feet, I don’t have to feel afraid.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
INAN
THE AIR OF THE DREAMSCAPE hums like a melody. Soft.
Resonant.
As it sings, my eyes trail Zélie’s bare skin through the lake.
Like a black-feathered swan, she glides above the shimmering waves, face at ease, an expression I’ve never seen. It’s like for one single moment the whole world doesn’t weigh on her shoulders.
She dives down for a few seconds and resurfaces, lifting her dark face to the rays above. With eyes shut, her lashes seem to never end. Her coils look like silver against her skin. When she turns to me, my breath catches. For a moment I forget how to breathe.
And to think.
I once thought she wore the face of a monster.
“You know it’s creepy if you just watch.”
A grin crawls onto my face. “Is that your clever way of getting me to join you?”
She smiles. A beautiful smile. With it, I glimpse the sun. When she turns, I long for that glimpse again, the warmth it spread through my bones. With that urge, I remove my shirt and jump in.
Zélie sputters and spits at the wave that hits when I crash through the rippling water. The current pulls me under with unexpected strength. I kick and push until I break back to the surface.
As I swim away from the waterfall’s roar, Zélie studies the forest behind us—its end stretches farther than I can see. Far beyond the white border that sat on the lake’s bank last time.
“I take it this is your first time in the water?” Zélie calls out.
“What gave it away?”
“Your face,” Zélie answers. “You look stupid when you’re surprised.”