Children of Blood and Bone - Tomi Adeyemi Page 0,23

not going to make it.

After coming so close, she’s going to die.

Run, I order myself. Escape. You have Tzain. Baba. You’ve done all you can.

But the despair in her eyes pulls me back, and I know my blessings have run out. Because despite every protest in my body, I dash through the gates, rolling through moments before they slam shut.

“You’re done.” The captain steps forward, bloody from the firebomb. “Drop your weapon. Now!”

It seems like every guard in Lagos is staring us down. They circle us in droves, blocking each path before we can attempt another escape.

I pull the girl to her feet and hold my staff high. This ends here. They will not take me. I will force them to kill me where I stand.

My heart slams against my chest as the guards close in. I take a moment to enjoy my last breaths, picturing Mama’s soft eyes, her ebony skin.

I’m coming, I think to her spirit. She probably roams alâfia now, floating through the peace of the afterlife. I imagine myself beside her. I’ll be with you so—

A thunderous roar rings through the air, freezing the guards in their steps. The cry grows louder and louder, deafening in its approach. I barely have enough time to pull the girl out of harm’s way when Nailah’s monstrous figure leaps over the gate.

Guards tumble back in fear as my lionaire lands on the dirt path, saliva dripping from her massive fangs. I’m convinced she’s a hallucination until I hear Tzain shouting from atop Nailah’s back.

“The hell you waiting for?” he yells. “Get on!”

Without wasting another second, I hop onto Nailah’s back and pull the girl aboard. We take off, jumping from shack to shack before the shanties crumble under her weight. When Nailah gets enough height, she makes a final leap, flying toward the gate.

We’ve almost cleared it when a shock like lightning surges through my veins.

The shock travels through every pore in my skin, igniting my being, catching my breath. Time seems to freeze as I look down, locking eyes with the young captain.

An unknown force burns behind his amber gaze, a prison I can’t escape. Something in his spirit seems to claw onto mine. But before I can spend another second locked in his eyes, Nailah flies over the gate, severing our connection.

She lands on the ground with a thud and takes off, thundering through the jackalberry trees.

“My gods,” I breathe. Every part of my body screams with strain. I can’t believe we actually made it.

I can’t believe I’m still alive.

CHAPTER SIX

INAN

FAILURE.

Disappointment.

Disgrace.

Which insult shall Father brand me with today?

I run through the possibilities as I enter the gate and ascend the white marble steps of the palace. Failure would be fitting. I’m returning with no fugitive in hand. But Father might not waste his words.

He could lead with his fist.

This time, I cannot blame him. Not truly.

If I can’t defend Lagos from a single thief, how in the world am I supposed to become Orïsha’s next king?

Curse the skies. I pause for a moment, gripping the smooth alabaster railing. Today was to be my victory.

Then that silver-eyed wretch got in the way.

The divîner’s face flashes behind my eyes for the tenth time since I watched her fly over Lagos’s gate. The image of her obsidian skin and long white hair stains. Impossible to blink away.

“Captain.”

I ignore the salute of the front guards as I enter the main hall. The title feels like a taunt. A proper captain would’ve sent an arrow through that fugitive’s heart.

“Where’s the prince?” A shrill voice echoes against the palace walls.

Dammit. This is the last thing I need.

Mother pushes toward the castle entrance, gele tilting as she fights through the guards blocking her path. “Where is he?” she cries. “Where is—Inan?”

Mother’s face softens with relief. Tears spring to her eyes. She leans in close, pressing a hand against the cut on my cheek.

“There were reports of assassins.”

I pull away from Mother and shake my head. Assassins would’ve had clearer targets. They’d be easier to track. The fugitive was just one runaway. One I couldn’t catch.

But Mother does not care about the attackers’ true identity. About my failure. Wasted time. She wrings her hands together, fighting back more tears.

“Inan, we must…” Her voice trails off. It’s only then that she realizes everyone is staring. She straightens her gele and steps back. I can almost see the claws extending from her hands.

“A maggot attacked our city,” she snaps at the assembled crowd. “Do you not have