Children of Blood and Bone - Tomi Adeyemi Page 0,132

of his mouth, his arms, his legs. The blast towers meters into the sky, a blaze so powerful it lights the horrors of the night. Shock stops the guards’ attack just as Kwame’s begins.

He punches his fists forward. Streams of fire crash through the settlement in smoldering waves. The flames incinerate everything in their path, blazing through the guards, destroying the camp.

The stench of burning flesh fills the air, mixed with the scent of blood.

Death strikes so quickly, soldiers don’t even have a chance to scream.

“Agh!” Kwame’s cries of agony rise above all else as he turns the night red. The blood magic tears through him, raw and unforgiving.

It’s grander than any flame a maji could conjure on his own. He burns with the power of his god, but it burns through him.

His dark face flushes red, veins tearing from within. His skin bubbles and scalds from his flesh, revealing corded muscle and hard bone. He can’t contain it. He can’t outlast it.

The blood magic eats him alive, yet still he uses his last breath to fight.

“Kwame!” Folake screams from the edge of the valley. A strong divîner drags her back, keeping her from charging into the roaring fire.

A vortex of flames shoots from Kwame’s throat, pushing the guards even farther back. As he sears through their attack with the last seconds of his life, the divîners react. My people flee in all directions, escaping through the flaming walls, leaving the wasteland in their path.

They live, fleeing the guards’ senseless attack.

Because of Kwame, because of his magic, they survive.

Staring at the blaze, it’s as if the entire world stops. The shouts and screams are muffled into nothingness. The festival fades to black. Inan’s promises play out before my eyes, our Orïsha, a pact the world won’t allow him to keep. Peace.

We will never have peace.

As long as we don’t have magic, they will never treat us with respect. Baba’s words simmer through my mind. They need to know we can hit them back. If they burn our homes, we burn theirs, too.

With one final cry, Kwame erupts like a dying star. Fire explodes in all directions, leaving the earth with the last remnants of himself.

As the final embers fall, my heart rips in my chest. I can’t believe I ever denied Baba’s truth. They’ll never allow us to thrive.

We will always be afraid.

Our only hope is to fight. Fight and win.

And to win, we need our magic.

I need that scroll.

“Zélie!”

My head snaps up. I don’t know how long I’ve stayed still. The world seems to travel in slow motion, weighed down by Kwame’s sacrifice, dragging with all my pain and guilt.

Tzain and Amari approach from the distance, riding on Nailah’s back. Tzain guides Nailah toward me through the chaos. Amari clutches my pack to her chest.

But as my name travels from his mouth, other guards take note. “The girl,” they scream to one another. “The girl! It’s her!”

Before I can take another step, hands wrap around my arms.

My chest.

My throat.

CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

AMARI

AS THE SUN RISES into the valley, a sob catches in my throat. The rays light the charred clearing where the procession occurred, the blackened remains of what was once a joyful place.

I stare at the scorched earth where Tzain and I danced, recalling how he twirled me, remembering the sound of his laugh.

All that remains now is blood. Hollow corpses. Ash.

I close my eyes and clasp my hand to my mouth, a futile attempt to block out the painful sight. Though it is silent, the cries of divîners still echo in my mind. The shouts of the soldiers who slaughtered them follow, the clash of swords striking into flesh. I cannot bear to look, but Tzain scans the destruction, searching for Zélie among every fallen face.

“I don’t see her.”

Tzain’s voice is barely above a whisper, like if he speaks any louder, everything inside him will break: his rage, his pain, the heartache of having another family member ripped away.

Thoughts of Inan force their way into my mind: his promises, his potential lies. Though I can’t bring myself to search the dead, I can feel it in my core.

Inan’s corpse isn’t on this ground.

No part of me wants to believe this was his doing, yet I don’t know what to think. If this wasn’t his betrayal, how did the guards find us? Where is my brother now?

Nailah whimpers behind us, and I stroke her snout the way I’ve seen Zélie do so many times before. A lump rises in my