Children of Blood and Bone - Tomi Adeyemi Page 0,85

me to fight Inan. I dropped my sword. I refused.

Then my brother’s blade ripped through my back.

My stomach lurches as our crew dives into the fight, the chance at victory spurring them on. They overpower the other crew with ease, blowing past their swords to land lethal strikes. Crazed men run toward us, but by the grace of the gods, our crew cuts them down. One man dies just steps from me, blood pooling in his mouth as a knife protrudes from his neck.

Let it end, I plead. Just let me make it out!

But as I pray, the captain breaks through, sword plunging forward. I brace myself for the attack, but then I realize he’s not coming at me. His sword aims down, angled to the side.

He’s targeting Zélie.

Time freezes as the captain nears, his glinting blade drawing closer and closer by the second. Everything around me goes quiet.

Then blood splatters into the air.

For a moment, I am too shocked to realize what I have done. But when the captain falls, my blade goes with him. Pierced straight through his gut.

The arena falls quiet. Smoke begins to clear.

I cannot breathe when the announcer speaks.

“It appears we have a winner.…”

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

ZÉLIE

538.

That’s how many times my body was ripped apart.

How many spirits perished for sport. How many innocent souls shriek in my ears.

Corpses float among the wood in the never-ending sea of blood. Their presence stains the air, invading my lungs with every breath.

Gods, help us. I close my eyes, trying to drown the tragedy out. Through it all, the cheers never stop. The praise never ends. As we stand on the platform, the crowd rejoices as if there’s a reason to celebrate this bloodbath.

Beside me, Tzain holds me close; he hasn’t really let go since he carried me from the ship. He keeps his expression vacant, but I can sense his remorse.

Though the competitor in him has prevailed, we’re still covered in the blood of those who have fallen. We may have triumphed, but this is no victory.

To my right, Amari stands still, hands clenched around her bladeless hilt. She hasn’t said one word since we got off that ship, but the laborers told me she was the one who protected me and killed the other captain. For the first time, looking at her doesn’t remind me of Saran or Inan. I see the girl who stole the scroll.

I see the seeds of a warrior.

The announcer forces a grin as Dele and Baako roll the shimmering chest of gold away. Gold he probably intended to keep, gold traded for every death.

The crowd roars as our crew is awarded their prize, but not one laborer smiles at the bounty. Wealth and freedom from the stocks are nothing when this horror will haunt them every night.

“Get on with it.” I grit my teeth, stepping away from Tzain’s protection. “You’ve already had your show. Give up the sunstone.”

The announcer narrows his eyes, his brown skin crinkling with hard lines.

“The show’s never over,” he hisses away from the metal cone. “Especially when it involves a maggot.”

The announcer’s words make my lips twitch. Though my body feels hollow, I can’t help but plot. How many animations would it take to drag him into the carnage, drown him at the bottom of his own red sea?

The announcer must sense my silent threat, because the smirk falls from his lips. He steps back and raises his cone, turning back to the crowd.

“And now…” His voice booms through the arena. He sells the performance with his words, though his face barely hides his dismay. “I present … the stone of immortality!”

Even from a distance, the sunstone’s warmth seeps into my shivering bones. Oranges and yellows pulse behind its crystal exterior like molten lava. Like a moth, I’m drawn to its holy light.

The last piece, I think, remembering Lekan’s words. With the scroll, the stone, and the dagger, we finally have everything we need. We can head to the sacred temple and perform the ritual. We can bring magic back.

“You’ve got this.” Tzain places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “Whatever happens, I’m right by your side.”

“Me too,” Amari says softly, regaining her voice. Though dried blood coats her face, her eyes are reassuring.

I nod at her and step forward, reaching for the golden stone. For the first time the crowd around me falls silent, their curiosity heavy in the air.

I brace myself for what might come from holding a living fragment of Sky Mother’s soul. But once my