Children of Blood and Bone - Tomi Adeyemi Page 0,141
glare on me.
“We don’t have magic.”
“Not yet.” I pull out the scroll from my pack. “But we can give you your powers back. The fortress was designed to hold back men, not maji.”
I expect at least one of them to take a closer look, but everyone stares at the scroll as if it’s a fuse about to blow. Kenyon backs up from the table.
“It’s time for you to go.”
In an instant, Imani and Khani rise, each gripping one of my arms.
“Hey!” Tzain yells. He struggles as Ife and Kenyon hold him back.
“Let go!”
The bar stops, not wanting to miss out on the entertainment. Though I kick and shout, the girls do not relent, instead rushing to the doors as if their very lives depend on it. But as Imani’s breath comes out in short rasps and Khani’s grip on me tightens, the realization sinks in.
They are not angry …
They’re afraid.
I twist out of their grasp with a maneuver Inan taught me moons ago. I grab the hilt of my sword, releasing the blade with a sharp flick.
“I am not here to hurt you.” I keep my voice low. “My only desire is to bring your magic back.”
“Who the hell are you?” Imani asks.
Tzain finally breaks free of Kenyon’s and Ife’s grasp. He pushes through divîners and the twins to get to my side.
“She’s with me.” He forces Imani to back up. “That’s all you need to know.”
“It’s alright.” I step out of Tzain’s shadow, leaving the circle of his protection. Every eye in the bar pierces through me, but for once I do not shrink away. I picture Mother before a crowd of oloyes, able to command a room with just the slightest arch of her brow. I must call on that power now.
“I am Princess Amari, daughter of King Saran, and…” Though the words have never left my lips, I now realize there is no other choice. I cannot let the line of succession stand in my way. “And I am the future queen of Orïsha.”
Tzain’s brows knit in surprise, but he doesn’t let himself rest in his shock for too long. The bar erupts in an unyielding chatter that takes forever to quiet down. Eventually he manages to silence the crowd.
“Eleven years ago my father took your magic away. If we don’t act now, we’ll lose the only chance we will ever have to bring it back.”
I look around the tóju, waiting for someone to challenge me or try to throw me out again. A few of the divîners leave, but most stay, hungry for more.
I unclench the scroll and hold it up so they can see its ancient script. A divîner leans in to touch it and yelps when a burst of air shoots from his hands. The accidental display gives me all the proof I need.
“There’s a sacred ritual, one that will restore your connection to the gods. If my friends and I don’t complete it during the centennial solstice in two days, magic will disappear forever.” And my father will run through the streets, slaughtering your people again. He will stab you in the heart. He’ll kill you like he killed my friend.
I look around the room, locking eyes with each divîner. “There is more than your magic at risk. Your very survival is on the line.”
The mutters continue until someone from the crowd shouts, “What do we have to do?”
I step forward, resheathing my blade and lifting my chin. “There is a girl trapped in the guard fortress outside Gombe. She is the key. I need your magic to get her out. If you save her, you save yourselves.”
The room remains silent for a long moment. Everyone stands still. But Kenyon leans back, crossing his arms with an expression I can’t discern.
“Even if we wanted to help, whatever magic that scroll gave us wouldn’t be strong enough.”
“Do not worry.” I reach into Zélie’s leather pack and pull out the sunstone. “If you agree to help, I will take care of that.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
INAN
ZÉLIE’S SCREAMS HAUNT ME long after they end.
Shrill.
Piercing.
Though her broken consciousness rests in the dreamscape, my physical connection to her body remains. Echoes of her anguish burn my skin. At times, the ache is so severe it hurts to draw breath. I fight to mask the pain as I knock on Father’s door.
Magic or not, I have to save her. I’ve already failed Zélie once.
I’ll never forgive myself if I allow her to perish here.