Children of Blood and Bone - Tomi Adeyemi Page 0,20

guard nor a crook who’s grabbed me.

It’s a cloaked amber-eyed girl.

She pulls me into a hidden opening between two stalls with a grip so tight I can’t fight my way free.

“Please,” she begs, “you have to get me out of here!”

CHAPTER FIVE

ZÉLIE

FOR A MOMENT, I can’t breathe.

The copper-skinned girl shakes with a fear so visceral it leaks into my skin.

Shouts grow louder as the guards thunder by, getting closer with each passing second. They can’t catch me with this girl.

If they do, I’ll die.

“Let me go,” I order, almost as desperate as she is.

“No! No, please.” Tears well in her amber eyes and her grasp tightens. “Please help me! I have done something unforgivable. If they catch me…”

Her eyes fill with a terror that is all too familiar. Because when they catch her, it’s not a matter of whether she’ll die, it’s only a question of when: On the spot? Starving in the jails? Or will the guards take turns passing her around? Destroy her from within until she suffocates from grief?

You must protect those who can’t defend themselves. Mama Agba’s words from this morning seep into my head. I picture her stern gaze. That is the way of the staff.

“I can’t,” I breathe, but even as the words leave my mouth, I brace myself for the fight. Dammit.

It doesn’t matter if I can help.

I won’t be able to live with myself if I don’t.

“Come on.” I grab the girl’s arm and barge into a clothing stall larger than the rest. Before the cloth merchant can scream, I put my hand over her mouth and press Tzain’s dagger to her neck.

“Wh-what are you doing?” the girl asks.

I inspect her cloak. How did she even make it this far? The girl’s copper skin and thick robes scream of noble blood, rich with velvet and golden hues.

“Put on that brown cloak,” I order her before turning back to the merchant. Beads of sweat drip down her skin; with a divîner thief, one wrong move could be her last. “I’m not going to hurt you,” I promise. “I just need to make a trade.”

I peek out the front of the stall as the girl changes into the muted cloak, tightening my grasp when the merchant lets out a muffled yelp. The market’s crawling with enough guards to fill an army. The scrambling traders and villagers add to the chaos. I search for a way out of this madness, but no escape route emerges. We have no choice.

We’ll just have to test our fortune.

I duck back into the stall as the girl pulls the hood of her new cloak low over her forehead. I grab the fine robe she was wearing and shove it into the merchant’s hands. The fear in the trader’s eyes dims as the soft velvet passes through her fingers.

I lower the dagger from her neck and grab a cloak of my own, hiding my white hair under its dark hood.

“Are you ready?” I ask.

The girl manages a nod. A hint of determination flashes in her eyes, but I still detect a paralyzing terror.

“Follow me.” We exit the stall and step into the pandemonium. Though guards stop right in front of us, our brown cloaks act as a shield. They’re searching for noble blood. Thank the gods.

Maybe we actually have a chance.

“Walk quickly,” I hiss under my breath as we move through the spaces between the textile stalls. “But don’t—” I grab her by the cloak before she goes too far. “Don’t run. You’ll draw attention. Blend into the crowd.”

The girl nods and tries to speak, but no words come out. It’s all she can do to tail me like a lionaire cub, never more than two steps behind.

We push through the crowd until we reach the market’s edge. Though guards cover the main entrance, there’s an opening on the side manned by only one guard. When he steps forward to interrogate a noble, I spot our chance.

“Quick.” I squeeze behind a stock trader’s stall to slip from the crowded market down the stone streets of the merchant quarter. I breathe a sigh of relief as the girl’s petite frame breaks free, but when we turn, two hulking guards block our path.

Oh gods. My feet skid to a stop. The silver coins jingle in my pack. I glance at the girl; her brown skin has lost most of its color.

“Is there a problem?” I ask the guards as innocently as I can.

One crosses his treelike arms. “Fugitive’s on the loose. No