Children of Blood and Bone - Tomi Adeyemi Page 0,96
asks.
The word sounds even stranger coming out of her mouth. We are not supposed to have anything. We are not even supposed to be a “we.”
Kill her. Kill magic.
It was all so simple before. It’s what Father would have wanted.
It’s what he’s already done.
But the maji hanging from the tree still scar my mind.
Just one of Orïsha’s endless crimes.
Looking at Zélie, I finally have the answer to the question I was too afraid to ask. I cannot be like Father.
I will not be that type of king.
I let go of her wrists, but inside I let go of so much more. Father’s tactics. His Orïsha. Everything I now realize I don’t want to be.
My duty has always been to my kingdom, but it must be for a better Orïsha. A new Orïsha.
A land in which a prince and a maji could coexist. A land where even Zélie and I could be a “we.”
If I am to truly fulfill my duty to my kingdom, that is the Orïsha I must lead.
“Our,” I repeat, forcing confidence into my voice. “We need each other. They took Amari, too.”
Her eyes search me. Hoping. Fighting that hope at the same time. “You held Amari at sword point ten minutes ago. You’re just after the scroll.”
“Do you see the scroll?”
Zélie looks around for where she tossed her pack before our fight, but even when she spots it her face falls. They took her brother. Her ryder, her ally. And the scroll we both need is gone.
“Whether I’m after my sister or that scroll, those men have both. For now our interests are aligned.”
“I don’t need you.” Zélie narrows her eyes. “I’ll find them by myself.” But fear drips from her skin like sweat.
Her fear of being alone.
“Without me, you’d be knocked out in a net. Your only clue to their camp would be dead. You really think you can take these fighters on without my help?”
I wait for her to concede. She only glares.
“I’ll take your rare bout of silence as a no.”
She stares at the dagger in her hand. “If you give me a reason to kill you—”
“It’s amusing that you think you could.”
We face off as if we’re still fighting, an invisible staff pressing against an unseen sword. But when she can oppose me no longer, Zélie walks back to the boy bleeding in the dirt.
“Okay, little prince. What do we do now?”
My blood simmers at her pet name, but I force myself to brush it aside. A new Orïsha has to begin somewhere.
“Hold him up.”
“Why?”
“For skies’ sake, just do it.”
She cocks an eyebrow in defiance but drags the poor bastard up. His eyelids flutter slightly and he moans. An uncomfortable heat prickles the air between us as I step closer.
I take inventory of the masked figure. Both hands broken. More wounds than I can count. He hangs like a rag doll in her hands. We’ll be lucky if he doesn’t bleed out.
“Listen here.” I grab his chin, forcing him to look into my eyes. “If you want to live, I suggest you start talking. Where’s our family?”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
AMARI
THE STABBING ACHE comes first, pulsing through my head with an intensity that stirs me awake. The burns follow soon after, stinging from the endless cuts and scratches peppering my skin.
I blink my eyes open, but the darkness remains; they’ve tied a tweed bag over my face. The rough fabric sticks to my nose as I breathe in too deeply, a futile attempt to keep myself from hyperventilating.
What is the meaning of this?
I pull forward, but my arms hold me back, wrists bound against a column. Wait, not a column. I shift to explore the rough surface. A tree …
That means we’re still in the forest.
“Tzain?” I try to call out, but my mouth is gagged. The fried pork rinds from dinner churn in my stomach. Whoever these people are, they’ve taken every precaution to protect themselves.
I strain to hear another clue—running water, the shift of other captives. But no other sounds come forth. I’m forced to mine my memories for more.
Though I can’t see, I close my eyes, reliving the surprise attack: Tzain and Nailah disappearing in woven nets, the acidic stench that turned everything black. So many masked figures, quick and silent, blending with the shadows. These strange fighters are the culprits.
They took all of us down.
But why? What is it these people want? If their aim was to rob us, they already succeeded. If they desired our deaths, I wouldn’t be breathing now.