Children of Blood and Bone - Tomi Adeyemi Page 0,50

to relax, but being this close to Kaea makes it impossible. Every little movement catches her eye; each sound practically makes her ears twitch.

As I walk behind her, the strain of pushing my powers down grows with every step. The iron of my armor begins to drag like lead. Though we walk slowly, I can’t keep a steady pace. With time, I begin to fall behind. I hunch over, resting my hands on my knees. I just need to catch my brea—

“What’re you doing?”

I snap up, ignoring how my curse spikes at the edge in Kaea’s voice. “Th-the tents.” I gesture at the natural shelters before me. “I was inspecting them.” Unlike the metal poles and leathery hippone hides we use to build our tents, these are made with branches and coated in moss. In fact, there’s a strange efficiency to their structure. Techniques the army could adapt.

“It’s hardly the time for rudimentary architecture.” Kaea narrows her eyes. “Focus on the task at hand.”

She turns on her heel, walking even faster now that I’ve wasted her time. I rush to follow, but as we near the carts and wagons, a stout woman catches my eye. Unlike the other campers, she isn’t glaring. She isn’t looking at us at all. Her attention is directed toward the bundle of blankets she cradles to her chest.

Like a suppressed sneeze, my curse jumps to the surface. The mother’s emotions hit like a smack to the face: sparks of rage, dull flashes of fear. But above all else, a protectiveness burns, snarling like a snow leopanaire guarding its only cub. I don’t understand why until the bundle pressed against her chest begins to cry.

A child …

My eyes travel down the woman’s chestnut skin to the jagged rock clasped in her hand. Her terror surges through my bones, but her resolve burns even stronger.

“Inan!”

I snap back to attention—I have to whenever Kaea calls my name. But as I reach the merchant wagons I glance back at the woman, shoving my curse down despite the way it makes my stomach burn. What does she have to fear? And what business would I have with her child?

“Wait.” I stop Kaea as we pass a merchant wagon pulled by one-horned cheetanaires. The spotted creatures gaze at me with orange eyes. Sharp fangs peek from behind their black-lined lips.

“What?”

A turquoise cloud hangs around the doorway, bigger than the ones that have been appearing. “This one has a wide selection.” I try to keep my voice light as we approach.

And the sea-salt scent of the girl’s soul.

Though I fight my magic, her smell surrounds me when I pass through the cloud. The divîner appears in my mind fully formed, dark skin almost luminescent in the Sokoto sun.

The image lasts only a moment, but even a flicker makes my insides churn. The magic feeds like a parasite in my blood. I straighten my helmet as we walk through the wagon’s door.

“Welcome, welcome!”

The wide smile of the elderly merchant drips from his dark face like wet paint. He stands, clenching the sides of the wagon for support.

Kaea shoves the scroll in his face. “Have you seen this girl?”

The merchant squints and cleans his spectacles against his shirt. Slowly. Buying time. He takes the sheet. “I can’t say I have.”

Droplets of sweat form on his brow. I glance at Kaea; she notices, too.

Doesn’t take magic to tell this fool’s lying.

I walk around the small wagon, searching, knocking over goods to get a rise. I spot a tear-shaped bottle of black dye and slip it into my pocket.

For a while the merchant stays still. Too still for someone with nothing to hide. He tenses when I near a crate, so I kick down with my foot. Wooden splinters fly. An iron safe is revealed.

“Don’t—”

Kaea pushes the merchant against the wall and searches him, tossing a ring of keys my way. I test each in the lock of the hidden safe. How dare he lie to me.

When the right key fits, I slam open the vault, expecting to find an incriminating clue. But then I spot the jewels of Amari’s headdress. My breath catches in my throat.

The sight takes me back, bringing me to the days when we were kids. The day she first wore this. The moment I hurt her …

I wrap myself in the curtains of the palace infirmary. It’s a fight to stifle my cries. As I cower, the physicians tending to Amari’s wounds expose her back. My stomach twists when I see