Children of Blood and Bone - Tomi Adeyemi Page 0,95
last.
Though my body feels like lead, I drag myself to my feet and go over to where Inan and the masked figure lie.
Inan leans against a trunk, face pinched, still clutching his chest. When he sees me, he wraps his hand around the hilt of his sword, but still he doesn’t attack.
Whatever fire he summoned to fight me is extinguished; in its ashes, dark circles have formed under his eyes. He seems smaller than he did before. His bones pull against his blanched skin.
He’s fighting it.… The realization sets in as the air around me chills. He’s pushing down his magic.
He’s making himself weak again.
But why? I stare at him, confusion gathering by the second. Why did he cut me from that net? Why isn’t he raising his sword against me again?
The “why” doesn’t matter, the harsh voice rings inside my head. Regardless of his reasons, I’m still alive.
If I waste any more time, my brother could end up dead.
I turn away from Inan and press my foot to the masked boy’s chest. Part of me itches to unmask him, but this will be easier if I can’t see his face. He seemed like a giant when he dragged me through the forest. Now his limp body looks frail. Perfectly weak.
“Where’d you take them?” I ask.
The boy stirs but stays silent. Wrong choice.
Worst choice.
I reach for my dropped staff and thrust down, smashing the bones in his hand. Inan’s head snaps up as the boy lets out a violent howl that echoes into the night.
“Answer me!” I yell. “Where’d you take them?”
“I don’t—agh!” His screams grow louder, but they’re not loud enough. I want to hear him cry. I want to see him bleed.
I let my staff fall and pull my dagger from my waistband. Tzain’s dagger …
The memory of him placing it in my hands before I walked into Lagos breaks through my grief.
Just in case, he said that day.
Just in case I endangered him.
“Tell me!” My eyes sting. “Where’s the girl? Where’s my brother? Where’s your camp?”
The first strike is intentional, a cut in the arm to get him to talk. But when the blood flows, something snaps, something feral I can’t contain.
The second strike is quick, the third passes too fast to follow. The darkest part of my rage breaks free as I slash him again and again, drowning out all my pain.
“Where are they?” I thrust my knife into his hand as the corners of my vision blur. Mama vanishes into the darkness. Tzain’s netted body follows after her. “Answer me!” I shriek, pulling the blade up once more. “Where’d they take him? Where’s my brother?”
“Hey!”
A voice calls from above, but I can barely hear it. They took magic. They took Mama. They won’t take Tzain, too.
“I’ll kill you.” I move the dagger over the masked boy’s heart and pull back. “I’ll kill y—”
“Zélie, don’t!”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
INAN
I REACH OUT, seizing both her wrists just in time.
She stiffens as I drag her onto her feet.
The moment our skin touches, my magic thrums, threatening to engulf me in Zélie’s memories once more. I clench my teeth and force the beast back down. Skies only know what’ll happen if I lose myself in her head again.
“Let go,” she seethes. Her voice. It still carries all the rage and ferocity of before. Completely ignorant of the fact that now I’ve seen her memories.
Now I see her.
Unable to stop myself, I drink Zélie in, every curve, every line. The crescent-shaped birthmark along the slope of her neck. The specks of white swimming in the silver pools of her eyes.
“Let go,” Zélie repeats, more violently than before. She drives her knee toward my groin; I jump back just in time.
“Wait.” I try to reason with her, but without the masked man, her rage has found a new outlet. Her fingers tighten around her crude dagger. She rears back to attack.
“Hey—” Zél. The word pops into my mind. A rough voice. Her brother’s voice.
Tzain calls her Zél.
“Zél, stop!”
It feels foreign on my lips, but Zélie halts, stunned at the sound of her nickname. Her brows knit with pain. Just like the way they knit when the guards dragged her mother away.
“Calm down.” I loosen my grip. A small show of faith. “You have to stop. You’ll kill our only lead.”
She stares at me. The tears hanging off her dark lashes fall onto her cheek. Another surge of painful memories simmers to the surface. I have to brace myself to keep them at bay.