Children of Blood and Bone - Tomi Adeyemi Page 0,47

we cross the Olasimbo Range? she teased when I told her my plans for our escape to the Adetunji Sea. Even if you were on the run, the queen herself would drop dead before she allowed you to wear trousers. She put her hand on her head and pretended to shriek, mimicking Mother’s pitch. I laughed so hard that night I nearly wet myself.

Despite the circumstances, a smile comes to my face. Binta could impersonate everybody in the palace. Yet my smile falls as I think of our lost dreams and abandoned plans. I thought we could escape through the tunnels beneath the palace. Once we got out, we would never go back. It all felt so certain in that moment, but did Binta always know it was a dream she’d never see?

The question haunts me as I reach the next ledge and pull myself over. The mountain flattens out for a brief stretch, wide enough for me to lie down in the wild grass.

As I drop to my knees, Zélie collapses in a garden of native bromeliads, crushing the vibrant red and purple petals under her feet. I bend down and breathe in their sweet scent. Binta would’ve loved these.

“Can we stay here?” I ask as the clove fragrance calms me. I can’t imagine climbing any higher. The promise of Chândomblé can only take us so far.

I lift my head as Nailah claws her way onto the ledge. Tzain follows after, dripping with sweat. He peels off his sleeveless dashiki and I lower my eyes—the last time I saw a boy’s bare body my nannies were giving Inan and me baths.

A warm flush rises to my cheeks as I realize how far from the palace I’ve truly come. Though it’s not illegal for royals and kosidán to consort the way it is for maji and kosidán, Mother would have Tzain jailed for what he’s just done.

I scoot away, eager to put more space between Tzain’s bare skin and my blushing face. But as I move, my fingers knock against something smooth and hollow.

I turn and find myself face-to-face with a cracked skull.

“Skies!” I shout, and crawl backward, hairs rising on the nape of my neck. Zélie jumps to her feet and expands her staff, ready to fight at a moment’s notice.

“What is it?” she asks.

I point to the fractured skull, lying on top of a pile of crushed bones. A gaping hole above its eye socket signals its violent death.

“Could it be another climber?” I ask. “Someone who did not make it through?”

“No,” Zélie answers with a strange confidence. “It’s not that.” She tilts her head and bends down for a closer look. A chill passes through the air. Zélie reaches down, stretching her hand out toward the cracked bone. Her fingers barely graze the skull when—

I gasp as the sweltering jungle heat around us snaps to a freezing cold. The chill bites through my skin, cutting straight to the bone. But the icy rush only lasts an instant. As quick as it comes, it vanishes, leaving us bewildered on the mountainside.

“Ugh!” Zélie wheezes like she’s been brought back to life. She grips the bromeliads so tightly the flowers rip straight off their stems.

“What in gods’ names was that?” Tzain asks.

Zélie shakes her head, eyes growing wider and wider by the second. “I felt him. It was his spirit … his life!”

“Magic,” I realize. No matter how many times I see it, the displays never fail to conflict me. Even as Father’s childhood warnings of magic resurface, my heart fills with awe.

“Come on!” Zélie dashes forward, scurrying up the next incline. “That was stronger than anything I’ve ever felt. The temple has to be near!”

I scramble after her, casting aside my fear in my desire to reach the last ledge. When I pull myself up over the final cliff, I can’t believe my eyes. Chândomblé.

It’s actually here.

Moss-covered bricks are piled in mountains of rubble, coating every inch of the plateau. The destruction is all that remains of the temples and shrines that once covered this land. Unlike the jungle and mountains below, no crickets chirp, no birds squawk, no mosquitoes sing. The only signs that life ever existed are the shattered skulls littered around our feet.

Zélie pauses before a skull, brows knitting though nothing happens.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Its spirit…” She bends down. “It’s rising.”

“Rising where?” I step back, stumbling over a piece of rubble. Another chill fills me with unspoken dread, but I can’t decipher if it’s real