Children of Blood and Bone - Tomi Adeyemi Page 0,15
chest.
No!
I clasp my hand to my mouth before I can scream, nearly falling onto my back. Nausea rises to my throat. Hot tears sting my eyes.
This isn’t happening. The world starts to spin. This isn’t real. Binta is safe. She’s waiting with a loaf of sweet bread in your room.
But my desperate thoughts do not change the truth. They do not bring back the dead.
Scarlet seeps through the scarf binding Binta’s mouth.
Crimson flowers stain her light blue dress.
I choke back another scream as her corpse thuds to the ground, heavy like lead.
Blood pools around Binta’s innocent face, dyeing her white locks red. Its copper smell wafts through the crack in the door. I stifle a gag.
Father yanks off Binta’s apron and uses it to clean his sword. Completely at ease. He doesn’t care that her blood stains his royal robes.
He doesn’t see that her blood stains my own hands.
I scramble backward onto my feet, tripping over the hem of my dress. I rush up the stairwell at the corner of the main hall, my legs shaking with every step. My vision blurs as I fight to make it to my quarters, but it’s all I can do to rush over to a vase. I grab onto the ceramic rim. Everything inside me comes back up.
The bile stings something fierce, bitter with acid and tea. The first sob breaks free as my body collapses. I clutch my chest.
If Binta were here, she would be the one to come to my rescue. She would take my hand and guide me to my quarters, sit me on my bed, and wipe my tears. She would take all the shattered pieces of my heart and find a way to make them whole again.
I choke back another sob and cover my mouth, salty tears leaking through my fingers. The stench of blood fills my nose. The memory of Father’s blade stabs again—
The throne room doors slam open. I jump to my feet, fearing it’s Father. Instead, one of the guards who restrained Binta leaves.
The scroll sits in his hands.
I stare at the weathered parchment as he climbs the stairs toward me, recalling how just one touch made the world explode with light. Light trapped inside my dear friend’s soul, unbelievably beautiful, eternally bold.
I turn away as the soldier nears, hiding my tearstained face.
“Forgive me, I’m unwell,” I murmur. “I must have eaten some rotten fruit.”
The guard barely nods, distracted as he continues ascending. He grips the scroll so hard his knuckles darken, as if afraid of what the magical parchment will do if he doesn’t. I watch as he walks to the third floor and pushes a painted black door open. Suddenly I realize where he’s headed.
Commander Kaea’s quarters.
Seconds ache by as I watch the door, waiting, though I do not know why. Waiting will not bring Binta back. It shall not allow me to enjoy her melodic laugh. But still I wait, freezing when the door reopens. I turn back to the vase and retch once more, not stopping until the guard passes me again. His metal-soled boots clink as he heads back down to the throne room. The scroll is no longer in his grip.
With shaking hands, I wipe my tears, no doubt smearing the paints and powders Mother forced onto my face. I run my palm over my mouth, taking any remnants of vomit away. Questions fill my mind as I rise and approach Kaea’s door. I should continue to my quarters.
Yet I step inside.
The door shuts behind me with a loud thud and I jump, wary that someone will seek out the source of the sound. I have never set foot in Commander Kaea’s quarters. I don’t even think the servants are allowed in here.
My eyes comb the burgundy walls, so different from the lavender paint that covers my own. A royal cloak lies at the foot of Kaea’s bed. Father’s cloak … He must have left it behind.
On another day the realization that Father was in Kaea’s quarters would’ve made my throat tight, but I can barely feel anything now. The discovery of Father’s cloak pales in comparison to the scroll sitting on Kaea’s desk.
I step toward it, legs throbbing as if approaching the edge of a cliff. I expect to feel some aura in the scroll’s presence, yet the air surrounding it remains dead. I reach out, but pause, swallowing the fear that begins to swell. I see the light that exploded from Binta’s hands.