Children of Blood and Bone - Tomi Adeyemi Page 0,17

to marry, creating families with divîners and kosidán like mine. As the blended families multiplied, the number of Orïsha’s maji grew. Before the Raid, Lagos housed the biggest maji population.

Now those divîners are all that’s left.

Tzain pulls on Nailah’s reins, stopping her when we near the wooden gate. “I’ll wait here. It’ll be too crazy for her in there.”

I nod and slide off, giving Nailah’s dark, wet nose a kiss. I smile as her rough tongue licks my cheek, but the smile fades when I glance back at Tzain. Unspoken words hang in the air, but I turn and keep moving forward all the same.

“Wait.”

Tzain slides off Nailah, catching up to me in a single bound. He places a rusted dagger into my hand.

“I have a staff.”

“I know,” he says. “Just in case.”

I slide the weapon into my worn pocket. “Thanks.”

We stare at the dirt ground in silence. Tzain kicks a rock by his feet. I don’t know who will break first until he finally speaks.

“I’m not blind, Zél. I know this morning wasn’t all your fault, but I need you to do better.” For a moment Tzain’s eyes flash, threatening to reveal everything he holds back. “Baba’s only getting worse, and the guards are breathing down your neck. You can’t afford to slip right now. If you make another mistake, it could be your last.”

I nod, keeping my gaze on the ground. I can handle a lot of things, but Tzain’s disappointment cuts like a knife.

“Just do better,” Tzain sighs. “Please. Baba won’t survive if he loses you.… I won’t, either.”

I try to ignore the tightness in my chest. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’ll do better. I promise.”

“Good.” Tzain pastes a smile on his face and ruffles my hair. “Enough of this. Go sell the hell out of that fish.”

I laugh and readjust the straps on my pack. “How much do you think I can get?”

“Two hundred.”

“That’s it?” I cock my head. “You really think that lowly of me?”

“That’s crazy coin, Zél!”

“I bet you I can get more.”

Tzain’s smile widens, gleaming with the shine of a good bet. “Get above two hundred and I’ll stay home with Baba next week.”

“Oh, you’re on.” I grin, already picturing my rematch with Yemi. Let’s see how she does against my new staff.

I rush forward, ready to make the trade, but when I reach the checkpoint, my stomach churns at the sight of the royal guards. It’s all I can do to keep my body still as I slide my collapsible staff into the waistband of my draped pants.

“Name?” a tall guard barks, keeping his eyes on his ledger. His dark curls fuzz in the heat, collecting the sweat dripping down his cheeks.

“Zélie Adebola,” I answer with as much respect as I can muster. No screwups. I swallow hard. At least, no more today.

The guard barely spares me a glance before writing the information down. “Origin?”

“Ilorin.”

“Ilorin?”

Short and stout, another guard wobbles as he approaches, using the giant wall to keep himself upright. The pungent smell of alcohol wafts into the air with his unwelcome presence.

“Wha’sa maggot like you doin’ s’far from ’ome?”

His words slur just before incomprehension, dripping from his mouth like the spittle on his chin. My chest clenches as he nears; the drunken glaze in his eyes turns dangerous.

“Purpose of visit?” the tall, thankfully sober guard asks.

“Trading.”

At this, a disgusting smile crawls onto the drunk guard’s face. He reaches for my wrist, but I back away and raise the wrapped package.

“Trading fish,” I clarify, but despite my words, he lunges forward. I grunt as he wraps his pudgy hands around my neck and presses me against the wooden wall. He leans in so close I can count the black and yellow stains on his teeth.

“I can see why you’re sellin’ the fish.” He laughs. “What’s the goin’ rate for a maggot these days, Kayin? Two bronze pieces?”

My skin crawls and my fingers itch for my hidden staff. It’s against the law for maji and kosidán to so much as kiss after the Raid, but it doesn’t keep the guards from pawing at us like animals.

My anger twists into a black rage, a darkness I sensed in Mama whenever the guards dared to get in her way. With its rush, I want to shove him back and snap each of the soldier’s fat fingers. But with my rage comes Tzain’s concern. Baba’s heartache. Mama Agba’s scolding.

Think, Zélie. Think of Baba. Think of Tzain. I promised not to mess this up. I can’t