Children of Blood and Bone - Tomi Adeyemi Page 0,14
the maji deaths. If he had his way, he’d probably “dispose” of the rest of them.
“I have the scroll.” Kaea reaches into her breastplate and pulls out a weathered parchment. “Once I discovered it, I took care of the witnesses and came straight here.”
“What of the sunstone?”
Kaea shoots Ebele a gaze so sharp it could draw blood. He clears his throat deeply, as if stretching out every last second before he delivers the news.
“The stone was stolen from Warri before we arrived, Your Highness. But we are tracking it. We have our best men on its path. I have no doubt we will recover it soon.”
Father’s rage simmers like heat rising through the air.
“You were tasked to destroy them,” he hisses. “How did this happen?”
“I tried, Your Highness! After the Raid, I tried for moons. I did everything I could to destroy them, but the artifacts were hexed.” Ebele’s eyes dart to Kaea, but she stares straight ahead. He clears his throat again. Sweat pools in the folds beneath his chin.
“When I ripped the scroll, it pieced itself back together. When I burned it, it formed again from the ashes. I had my strongest guard take a mace to the sunstone, and it did not even sustain a scratch! When those wretched artifacts wouldn’t break, I locked them in an iron chest and sank them in the middle of the Banjoko Sea. They could never have washed up on the coast! Not without mag—”
Ebele catches himself before uttering the word.
“I promise, Your Highness. I did what I could, but it would appear the gods have other plans.”
The gods? I lean in. Has Ebele’s mind gone to the skies? Gods don’t exist. Everyone in the palace knows that.
I wait for Father to react to Ebele’s foolishness, but his face remains even. He rises from his throne, calm and calculating. Then quick as a viper, he strikes, grabbing Ebele by the throat.
“Tell me, Admiral.” He raises Ebele’s body into the air and squeezes. “Whose plans do you fear more? The gods’? Or mine?”
I flinch, turning away as Ebele chokes for air. This is the side of Father I hate, the side I try so hard not to see.
“I—I promise,” Ebele wheezes. “I will fix it. I promise!”
Father drops him like a rotten piece of fruit. Ebele gasps and massages his neck, bruises already darkening his copper skin. Father turns back to the scroll in Kaea’s hand.
“Show me,” he commands.
Kaea gives a signal, motioning to someone outside my line of sight. Boots clank against the tiled floor. That’s when I see her.
Binta.
I clutch my chest as she’s dragged forward, tears gathering in her wide silver eyes. The bonnet she takes so much care to tie every day sits askew, revealing locks of her long white hair. Someone has gagged her with a scarf, making it impossible for her to shout. But if she could, who would help her? She’s already in the guards’ grasps.
Do something, I order myself. Now. But I cannot bring my legs to move. I cannot even feel my hands.
Kaea unrolls the scroll and walks forward slowly, as if approaching a wild animal. Not the sweet girl who has wiped my tears for so many years. The servant who saves all her palace rations so her family can enjoy one good meal.
“Raise her arm.”
Binta shakes her head as the guards yank up her wrist, her muffled cries breaking through the scarf. Though Binta resists, Kaea pushes the scroll into her grip.
Light explodes from Binta’s hand.
It coats the throne room in its magnificence—brilliant golds, shining purples, sparkling blues. The light arcs and shimmers as it cascades, a never-ending stream erupting from Binta’s palm.
“Skies,” I gasp, terror at war with the awe bubbling inside my chest.
Magic.
Here. After all these years …
Father’s old warnings of magic bloom inside my head, tales of battle and fire, darkness and disease. Magic is the source of all evil, he would hiss. It will tear Orïsha apart.
Father always taught Inan and me that magic meant our deaths. A dangerous weapon threatening the existence of Orïsha. As long as it existed, our kingdom would always be at war.
In the darkest days following the Raid, magic took hold inside my imagination, a monster without a face. But in Binta’s hands, magic is mesmerizing, a wonder like no other. The joy of the summer sun melting into twilight. The very essence and breath of life—