Children of Blood and Bone - Tomi Adeyemi Page 0,40
she’s used to that, right? People who look like you making sure she gets her way?”
“Zél, she was cold and I wasn’t using my cloak. That’s all there is to it.”
I turn back toward Amari and try to let it go. But in her eyes, I see her brother’s. I feel his hands around my throat.
“I want to trust her—”
“No, you don’t.”
“Well, even if I did, I can’t. Her father ordered the Raid. Her brother burned down our village. What makes you think she’s any different?”
“Zél…” Tzain’s voice trails off as Amari approaches, always delicate and demure. I have no way of knowing if she’s heard us or not. Either way, I can’t pretend I care.
“I think this is yours.” She hands him the cloak. “Thank you.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Tzain takes the cloak and folds it into his pack. “It’ll be warmer as we get into the jungle, but let me know if you need it again.”
Amari smiles for the first time since we’ve met, and I bristle when Tzain smiles back. It should take more than a pretty face for him to forget she’s the daughter of a monster.
“Is that all?” I ask.
“Um, well, actually…” Her voice grows quiet. “I was wondering … what are we planning to do for, um—”
A deep groan escapes Amari’s stomach. Color rises to her cheeks and she grips her slim belly, failing to cage in another roar.
“Excuse me,” she apologizes. “All I ate yesterday was a loaf of bread.”
“A whole loaf?” I salivate at the thought. It’s been moons since I’ve had a good slice. Though I can’t imagine the stale bricks we trade for in the market could hold a candle to a fresh loaf from the royal kitchen.
I itch to remind Amari of her good fortune, but my own stomach twists and turns with emptiness. Yesterday passed without one meal. If I don’t eat soon, my stomach too will growl.
Tzain reaches into the pockets of his black pants and pulls out Mama Agba’s weathered map. We follow his finger as it trails down the coast from Ilorin, stopping just outside a dot marking the settlement of Sokoto.
“We’re about an hour out,” he says. “It’s the best place to stop before we head east to Chândomblé. There’ll be merchants and food, but we’ll need something to trade.”
“What happened to the coin from the sailfish?”
Tzain dumps out my pack. I groan as a few silver pieces and Amari’s headdress fall to the ground. “Most of it was lost in the fire,” Tzain sighs.
“What can we trade?” Amari asks.
Tzain stares at the finery of her dress. Even with dirt stains and a few burn marks, its long, elegant cut and lined silk scream of noble origin.
Amari follows Tzain’s eyes and her brows knit. “You cannot be serious.”
“It’ll trade for good coin,” I jump in. “And we’re going to the jungle, for gods’ sakes. You’ll never make it through in that.”
Amari scans my draped pants and cropped dashiki, gripping the fabric of her dress tighter. I’m amazed she thinks she has a choice when I could hold her down and cut it off with ease.
“But what will I wear?”
“Your cloak.” I point to the dingy brown cloth. “We’ll trade the dress for some food and get new clothes on the way.”
Amari steps back and looks at the ground.
“You were willing to evade your father’s guards to save the scroll, but you won’t take off your stupid dress?”
“I didn’t risk everything because of the scroll.” Amari’s voice cracks. For a moment her eyes glimmer with the threat of tears. “My father killed my best friend—”
“Your best friend or your slave?”
“Zél,” Tzain warns.
“What?” I turn to him. “Do your best friends press your clothes and make your food without pay?”
Amari’s ears redden. “Binta was paid.”
“A mighty wage, I’m sure.”
“I am trying to help you.” Amari clenches the skirt of her dress. “I’ve given up everything to help you people—”
“‘You people’?” I fume.
“We can save the divîners—”
“You want to save the divîners, but you won’t even sell your damn dress?”
“Fine!” Amari throws her hands in the air. “Skies, I’ll do it. I never said no.”
“Oh, thank you, gracious princess, savior of the maji!”
“Cut it out.” Tzain nudges me as Amari walks behind Nailah to change. Her delicate fingers move to the buttons on her back, but she hesitates, glancing over her shoulder. I roll my eyes as Tzain and I look the other way.
Princess.
“You need to lay off,” Tzain mutters as we face the natal mahogany lining