Children of Blood and Bone - Tomi Adeyemi Page 0,159
release the braid and rest my chin on her scalp.
“Whatever it is, you can talk to me.”
Zélie’s head drops; she wraps her hands around her thighs and pulls her knees to her chest. I squeeze her shoulder before finishing the last braid.
“I used to think you were weak,” she whispers.
I pause; I wasn’t expecting that. Of all the things Zélie probably used to think of me, “weak” could be the nicest.
“Because of my father?”
She nods, but I sense her reluctance. “Every time you thought about him, you shrank. I didn’t understand how someone could wield a sword the way you do and still hold so much fear.”
I run my fingers along her braids, trailing the lines in her scalp. “And now?”
Zélie closes her eyes, muscles tensing. But when I wrap my hands around her, it’s like I can feel the cracks in her dam.
The pressure builds, pushing against all her emotions, all her pain. When she can bear it no longer, the sob I know she’s been holding back breaks free.
“I can’t get him out of my head.” She squeezes me as hot tears fall onto my shoulder. “It’s like every time I close my eyes, he’s wrapping a chain around my neck.”
I hold Zélie close as she sobs into my arms, releasing everything she’s been trying to hide. My own throat chokes up with her cries; it’s my family who’s caused her all this pain. Holding Zélie makes me wonder about Binta and all the days she probably needed this. She was there for me in all my struggles, yet I never got to be there for her in the same way.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “For what my father did. For what he’s done. I’m sorry Inan couldn’t stop it. I’m sorry it took us both so long to try to right Father’s wrongs.”
Zélie leans into me, letting my words sink in. I’m sorry, Binta, I think to her spirit. I’m sorry I didn’t do more.
“The first night we escaped, I couldn’t fall asleep in that forest no matter how hard I tried.” I speak softly. “I was barely conscious, but each time I closed my eyes I saw Father’s black blade ready to cut me down.” I pull back and wipe away her tears, staring straight into her silver eyes. “I thought if he ever found me I would shatter, but do you know what happened when I saw him in the fortress?”
Zélie shakes her head and the moment returns, making my pulse quicken. The memory of Father’s rage flares, yet what I remember is the weight of my sword in my hand.
“Zélie, I grabbed my blade. I almost ran after him!”
She smiles at me and for a moment, I see Binta in the way it softens her features. “I expect nothing less of the Lionaire,” Zélie teases.
“I can recall a day where the Lionaire was told to get herself together and stop being such a scared little princess.”
“You’re lying.” Zélie laughs through her tears. “I was probably a lot meaner.”
“If it makes you feel better, you did push me into the sand before you said it.”
“So is it my turn?” Zélie asks. “Is this where you push me?”
I shake my head. “I needed to hear that. I needed you. After Binta died, you were the first person to treat me like more than some silly princess. I know you may not see it, but you believed I could be the Lionaire before anyone ever uttered that name.” I wipe away the remainder of her tears and place my hand on her cheek. I couldn’t be there for Binta, yet being with Zélie, I feel the hole in my heart closing. Binta would’ve told me to be brave. With Zélie, I already am.
“No matter what he did, no matter what you see, believe me when I tell you it is not forever,” I say. “If you broke me free, you will find a way to save yourself.”
Zélie smiles, but it only lasts an instant. She closes her eyes and clenches her fist, the way she always does when practicing an incantation.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“I can’t…” She looks down at her hands. “I can’t do magic anymore.”
My heart seems to stop, sluggish, heavy in my chest. I clasp Zélie’s arms tight. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s gone.” Zélie grips her braids, pain etched into her face. “I’m not a Reaper anymore. I’m not anything.”
The weight Zélie bears on her shoulders threatens to break her back. All I want to