Children of Blood and Bone - Tomi Adeyemi Page 0,91
my brother play. Amari fights in earnest to dunk him under the water, though she can’t be more than half his weight soaking wet. Tzain entertains her, crying out in pretend pain, pretending she might win—
Suddenly, the river vanishes.
The trees.
Nailah.
Tzain.
The world spins around me as a familiar force carries me away.
When the spinning stops, reeds tickle my feet. Brisk air fills my lungs.
By the time I realize I’m in the prince’s dreamscape, I’m thrust back into the real world.
I wheeze, clutching my chest as the cold of the river hits my feet again. The flash of the dreamscape only lasted a moment, but it was powerful, stronger than it’s ever felt. A chill strikes my core as the realization settles in. Inan isn’t just in my dreams.
He’s close.
“We have to go.”
Tzain and Amari are laughing too loudly to hear me. He’s lifted her once again, threatening to throw her back in.
“Stop.” I kick water at them. “We have to go. We’re not safe here!”
“What are you talking about?” Amari giggles.
“It’s Inan,” I rush out. “He’s clo—”
My voice chokes in my throat. A distant noise pounds near.
Our heads whip toward the sound, thumping and constant.
At first I can’t decipher it, but as it approaches I recognize the steady patter of paws. When they round the riverbend, I finally see what I feared most: Inan speeds toward us.
Rabid on his panthenaire.
Shock slows my steps as we scramble out of the river. The water that once held our joy weighs us down, current strong now that Amari and Tzain fight to get out. We’re idiots. How could we be so foolish? The very second we let ourselves relax is the second Inan finally catches us.
But how did Inan get over the broken bridge at Chândomblé? How did he know where to go? Even if he somehow tracked us to Ibeji, we left that hell six nights ago.
I race over to Nailah and mount first, gripping her reins tight. Tzain and Amari quickly scramble up behind me. But before I snap the leather, I turn around—what have I missed?
Where are the guards he traveled with before? The admiral who killed Lekan? After surviving a sêntaro’s attack, surely Inan wouldn’t strike without backup.
But despite all reasonable logic, no other guards shoot forth. The little prince is vulnerable. Alone.
And I can take him in a fight.
“What’re you doing?” Tzain screams as I release Nailah’s reins, drawing her to a halt before we even start.
“I got this.”
“Zélie, no!”
But I don’t turn back.
I throw my pack to the ground and jump off Nailah’s back, landing in a crouch. Inan halts his own ryder and dismounts, sword brandished and ready for blood. With a growl, the panthenaire lopes off, but Inan hardly seems to notice. Crimson stains haunt his uniform, a desperation burns in his amber eyes. And yet, he looks thinner. Fatigue rises from his skin like heat. Something crazed shifts in his gaze.
Suppressing his powers has left him weak.
“Wait!” Amari’s voice quivers.
Though Tzain tries to hold her back, she slides off Nailah’s saddle. Her nimble feet hit the ground without making a sound, tentative as they walk past me.
Color drains from Amari’s face, and I see the fear that’s plagued her all her life. The girl who grabbed me all those weeks ago in the market. The princess with the scar traveling down her back.
But as she moves, something different sets into her stance, something steady like on the arena ship. It allows her to approach her brother, concern eclipsing the terror in her eyes.
“What happened?”
Inan redirects his sword from my chest to Amari’s. Tzain jumps down to fight, but I grab his arm. “Let her try.”
“Out of my way.” Inan’s voice is commanding, but a tremble shakes his hand.
Amari pauses for a second, illuminated by the moonlight reflecting off Inan’s blade.
“Father’s not here,” she finally says. “You won’t hurt me.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Maybe you don’t.” Amari swallows hard. “But I do.”
Inan is silent for a long moment. Still. Too still. The clouds shift and moonlight shines, lighting the space between them. Amari takes a step forward. Then another, bigger this time. When she places a hand on Inan’s cheek, tears fill his amber eyes.
“You don’t understand,” he croaks, still clenching his sword. “It destroyed her. It’ll destroy all of us.”
Her? Whether or not Amari knows who Inan’s talking about, she doesn’t seem to care. She guides his sword to the ground as if soothing a wild animal.