Children of Blood and Bone - Tomi Adeyemi Page 0,48

or just in my head.

“I don’t know.” Zélie rubs her neck. “Something about the temple is amplifying my ashê. I can actually feel my magic.”

Before I can ask another question, Zélie bends down and touches another skull.

My hand flies to my chest; this time it’s not an icy cold that flashes around her, but an image, tinted in gold. Magnificent temples and towers rise, stunning structures adorned with elegant waterfalls. Dark men, women, and children in fine suede robes roam, beautiful lines and symbols dotting their skin in elegant swirls of white.

Though the flash lasts only an instant, the image of the lush grounds stains my memory as I look at the broken rubble before me. Chândomblé used to be radiant.

Now it’s only air.

“What do you think happened here?” I ask Zélie, though I fear I already know. Father destroyed the beauty of magic in my life. Why wouldn’t he have done the same throughout the world?

I wait for Zélie to answer, but she doesn’t respond. Her face hardens with each passing second—she’s seeing more, something I can’t.

A soft lavender light begins to glow from her fingers, surfacing as she explores her powers for the first time. Watching her, my curiosity builds. What else can she see? Though the thought of magic still makes my pulse race, part of me wishes I could experience its rush just once. The rainbow that burst from Binta’s hand begins to fill my mind until I hear Tzain call.

“Check this out.”

We follow Tzain’s voice until we’re facing the only standing structure on the mountain. The temple towers into the sky, built against the ledge of the last rock’s incline. Unlike the stone bricks, this structure’s crafted from blackened metal, streaked with yellows and pinks that suggest it once shone gold. Vines and moss grow up the sides, obscuring endless rows of ancient runes carved into the temple’s frieze.

Zélie moves toward the doorless entrance, but Nailah lets out a small growl. “Okay, Nailah.” Zélie gives her nose a kiss. “Stay here, alright?”

Nailah grunts and collapses behind a pile of broken stone. With Nailah settled, we walk through the opening and greet a magical aura so thick even I can feel its weight in the room. Tzain scoots closer to Zélie as I run my hand against the air; the oscillations of magical energy slip through my fingers like grains of falling sand.

Rays of light peek through the cracked oculus above, illuminating the patterned dome ceiling. The designs feed into rows of pillars, decorated with colored glass and shimmering crystals.

Why didn’t they destroy this? I wonder as I run my fingers along the carvings. The temple is strangely untouched, a lone tree in a scorched forest.

“See any doors?” Tzain calls from the other side of the room.

“Nothing,” Zélie calls back. The only visible fixture is a large statue pressed against the back wall, collecting dust and overgrown vines. We walk over, and Tzain runs his hands over the weathered stone. The statue appears to be that of an elderly woman, cloaked in rich robes. A golden crown sits in her sculpted white coils, the only untarnished metal in sight.

“Is it a goddess?” I ask, inspecting the sculpture up close. In all my years, I’ve never seen a rendering of a single deity. No one would dare place one in the palace. I always assumed the first time I saw a god or goddess, it would be depicted like the royal portraits hanging in the main hall. But despite its tarnish, this statue holds a regal air even the most stunning painting couldn’t achieve.

“What’s this?” Tzain points to an object in the woman’s hand.

“It looks like a horn.” Zélie reaches up to inspect it. “It’s strange.…” She runs her hand across its rusted metal. “I can almost hear it in my head.”

“What’s it saying?” I ask.

“It’s a horn, Amari. It’s not saying anything.”

My cheeks flush. “Well, if it’s a sculpture, it shouldn’t be making sounds at all!”

“Just be quiet.” Zélie hushes me and places both hands on the metal. “I think it’s trying to tell me something.”

I hold my breath as her brows pinch. After a few long moments, her hands begin to glow with a glittering, silver light. The horn seems to feed on her ashê, glowing brighter as she strains.

“Be careful,” Tzain warns.

“I am.” Zélie nods, though she begins to shake. “It’s close. It just needs one more push—”

A slow creak rumbles under our feet. I yelp at the sound. We whip around in surprise