Children of Blood and Bone - Tomi Adeyemi Page 0,44
eventually their efforts fell short. That day I entered the floating market, Mama’s gold amulet in hand. It was the only thing of hers that we could recover, torn to the ground when the guards dragged her away.
After Mama died, I grasped that amulet like it was the last remaining piece of her soul. I still rub my neck sometimes, plagued by its absence.
“You don’t have to do this.” It stings to say those words in the face of so much gold, but ripping myself from Mama’s amulet felt like ripping away her heart; a pain so harsh I couldn’t even wish it on Amari.
Her eyes soften and she smiles. “You mocked me for not wanting to take off my dress before, but you were right. I was fixated on what I’ve already lost, but after everything my father’s done, my sacrifices will never be enough.” Amari nods to the merchant, making her final decision. “I couldn’t save Binta. But with the gold from this sale…”
We could save the divîners.
I stare at Amari as the merchant takes the headdress and piles the gold into velvet bags. “Take the bow.” He beams. “Take whatever you like!”
Gazing around the wagon, my eyes land on a sturdy leather pack decorated with circles and lines. I lean in to inspect its firm texture but stop when I realize the design is composed entirely of dotted crosses. I run my hands over the disguised clan mark, the secret symbol of Oya, my sister deity. If the guards ever recognized the truth hidden in the bag’s design, they could seize the merchant’s entire cart. They might even cut off his hands.
“Be careful!” the merchant shouts.
I snatch my hand back before I realize he’s talking to Amari.
She turns an empty hilt over in her hands. “What is this? No blade?”
“Point it away from yourself and give it a flick.”
Like with my staff, a flick of the hilt extends a long blade with a lethal curved point. It glides through the air with a deadly grace, surprisingly nimble in Amari’s small hands.
“I’ll take this.”
“If you don’t know how to use it—” the merchant warns.
“Why do you assume I don’t?”
I arch my eyebrow at Amari and think back to her mention of a training accident. I assumed the scar came from her brother’s sword, but was she holding a sword, too? Despite her escape from Lagos, I can’t imagine the princess locked in battle.
The merchant packs up our collection of coins and goods and sends us on our way, giving us everything we need to travel to Chândomblé. We walk back to meet Tzain in silence, but between the scar, the headdress, and the sword, I don’t know what to think. Where’s the spoiled princess I wanted to choke to death? And can she actually wield a sword?
As we pass a papaya tree, I pause, shaking the trunk until a yellow fruit falls. I give Amari a few moments to move forward before whipping the ripe papaya at her head.
For a heartbeat, Amari appears oblivious—how will I explain this? But as the fruit whistles near, she drops her basket and whips around, new blade extended, speed unmatched.
I gape as the ripe papaya falls to the ground, sliced in two clean halves. Amari smiles and picks up a piece, taking a triumphant bite.
“If you wish to hit me, you will have to try a little harder than that.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
INAN
KILL HER.
Kill magic.
My plan is all I have.
Without it, the world slips through my fingers. My maji curse threatens to break from my skin.
I’ll make you a deal, the girl whispers in my mind, lips twisting as she speaks. No one has to know you’re a dirty little—
“Dammit.”
I grit my teeth. It doesn’t block out the rest of her vile speech. With the memory of her voice, my infection simmers to the surface, prickling hot under my skin. As it rises, the broken voices grow. Louder. Sharper.
Like forcing a brick down my throat, I fight the magic back.
One … two …
I count as I struggle. The air around me begins to chill. Sweat gathers on my forehead. By the time my magic’s pushed down, my breath escapes in rough spurts. But the threat is quelled. For a brief instant I’m safe. Alon—
“Inan.”
I flinch and check that my helmet is still secure. My thumb runs over the latch for the fiftieth time today. I swear I can feel this new white streak growing.