by Tomi Adeyemi
I clench my teeth at the ocean’s bite. It feels like crashing through a sheet of ice. Bubbles fly as water surrounds us. I squeeze Roën’s hand, allowing the weight of his bag to drag us farther down.
My breath hitches when we slow to a stop and we hang, suspended in pure blackness. Roën guides my hands to the rusted chain connecting us to the boat above. From the way he squeezes my grip, I can almost hear him saying, “Hold on.”
I squeeze the chains as my breaths start to slow. There’s a strange peace this far underwater. I take it in as Roën brushes my side, hands moving to the large bag. He unhooks the latch and I have to squint at the glow. Orbs of light float up from the opened bag, all connected in a spiderweb of chains.
What is this? I tilt my head at the sight. The orbs fill the water above our heads, shining bright through the darkness. The spiderweb of light brings the ocean to life. I can hardly believe my eyes. A rush spreads through me like the first time I watched Mama do magic.
There’s no place fish don’t swim. Long eels with silver scales zip under our feet. Crabs with metallic shells skitter along the surrounding coral reefs. A giant sea turtle passes overhead, so close it swims through loose strands of Roën’s hair. My breath shudders as I run my fingers over the reflective mosaic on its shell.
The sea turtle swims toward the spiderweb of light, joining the thousands of fish now circling above our heads. The sight is so majestic I nearly lose my grip on the rusted chain. I didn’t know the water I loved could be so beautiful.
I try to catch Roën’s gaze, but he stares off into the distance. With no warning, he snaps into action, removing a crossbow from his pack that’s loaded with a flat hook instead of an arrow.
What’s going on? I drift closer to him, trying to figure out what he’s doing. He grabs my wrist and kicks down, taking us deeper into the blackness.
A speck of light shines in the distance, glowing brighter over time. But as seconds pass, I realize that it’s not glowing brighter.
It’s growing bigger as it races toward us.
I try to kick away, but Roën forces me to stay. It’s difficult to remain still when he places the crossbow against his shoulder and takes aim. The beast cuts through the water like a cannon, so large it changes the ocean’s currents. It lights up the sea with its approach. My heart thrashes when it nears.
For the love of Oya.
My chest constricts as the blue whale zooms overhead, so big I can’t take it all in. The sight is so bewildering, I forget to breathe.
The blue whale fills an entire stretch of ocean, glowing like the bioluminescent plankton of Jimeta’s coast. The light spreads from the tip of its nose to the flukes of its tail. It’s like the fabric of night shines through its smooth skin.
The beast opens its mouth to feed, consuming the tornado of fish that swim above. It devours thousands in one bite. Then it begins its ascent.
Hold on!
I feel the words through Roën’s grip. He hooks an arm around my waist as I wrap both of mine around him. With a jolt, he pulls the trigger of his bow, launching the flat hook through the water, and the projectile connects under the whale’s massive flipper. A moment is all we have before the connecting cord yanks us through the water.
Every bone in my body rattles as we shoot forth. It’s like being pulled by a thousand elephantaires. Water pounds against our skin as we fly through the ocean at unimaginable speeds. The whale’s glow lights up the sea like the sun, illuminating more than any lanterns ever could.
Massive stingrays flash by. Rainbow scales crackle across the water like lightning. It all feels like a dream, one I never want to end.
I wheeze as we breach the surface. The whale arcs through the air, so large it blocks out the moon.
Roën’s arms wrap around me as he lets go of our connection. The beast twists in a circle before crashing back into the sea.
“Brace yourself!” Roën yells over the roar.
The waves rip around us like a tsunami. I squeeze Roën tight as we thrash through the water. It feels like minutes before the ocean returns to its gentle tug.
As the water settles, I spot our boat floating half a kilometer away.
I rip off my mask with shaking hands, gasping for breath. A laugh escapes my throat and I grab my chest, kicking my legs in a circle to stay at the surface. The sea shines with the dying light of the whale’s glow. I stare down until it vanishes, leaving us in the black water.
“That was incredible!” I scream. “The most amazing thing I’ve ever seen!”
Roën smiles as I yell. “That’s usually what my lovers say about me.”
I splash water at him and he laughs, true joy crinkling his nose. It catches me off guard. He almost looks like someone else.
“Why’d you do that?” I ask.
His smile softens and he drifts closer to me, touching my cheek.
“That.” His fingers rest along the corners of my lip. “It’s been far too long since I’ve seen that.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
INAN
I STARE AT the maps and battle plans scattered across our table as reality sinks in. They’re only parchment and black ink, yet they outline our road to victory. Our troops are stationed outside Lagos. Mother and I are out of harm’s way. Every trap has been put in place.
This time we’re going to win.
“Is everyone clear on their marching orders?” Mother takes charge in my silence. Her low voice echoes through the pyramid ahéré outside Ibadan’s village center, clay padding insulating the stone from the cool mountain air. I stare at the fire burning in the back of the hut as the military officers nod.
“That’s all for now.” I wave my hand. “Send me updates when you make progress.”
As they salute and exit the room, I walk to the fireplace. The heat of the flames warms my skin as I wait to feel a sense of satisfaction, a flicker of relief. But no matter how much time passes, I only feel numb. It’s hard to believe that this really is the end.
“I shouldn’t be here.” Ojore comes to my side when the last officer walks out the door. “Send me back to Lagos. Let me be your boots on the ground.”
“I already have boots on the ground,” I say. “I need you here.”
“Inan, it’s not your job to keep me safe!”
“It is after what happened to Jokôye!” I whip around and get in his face, nostrils flared. “Orïsha will need you when this is all over. I will, too.”
Mother puts a hand on Ojore’s shoulder, breaking the tension between us. “There’s still work to be done. Coordinate with the perimeter guards to make sure everything’s in order.”
Ojore blows out his cheeks, but manages to nod before marching into the night. I wish I shared his burning desire to fight.
I can’t look at our battle plans without picturing Zélie and Amari on the other end. I don’t want to beat them like this. Who knows if they’ll even survive?
“That boy.” Mother shakes her head and smiles to herself. She hands me a cup filled with red wine before lifting her own in a toast. “To protecting the throne.”
We clink our glasses together and Mother takes a long sip. She exhales as she brings the cup to her chest.
“You’re doing the right thing,” she says.
I sigh and turn back to the crackling flames. “It doesn’t feel like it.”
“No cost is too great if it means finally ending this fight.”
To that, I take a drink, savoring the rich liquid. “It feels like this war’s been going on for years.”
“In a way, it has.”
Mother runs her painted finger over the rim of her cup. She stares out the square window, watching the families that line up in front of the village well.
“This war didn’t start when magic came back, Inan. You are only seeing the end of a battle countless have given their lives for. By winter’s dawn, we will have wiped the scourge of maji from this land. Even your wretched father couldn’t achieve that.”
&
nbsp; “Mother, what are you talking about?” I grab her arm. “We’re fighting the Iyika. Not the maji.”
“We’re fighting them all. We have been for decades. This war started long before the Raid. It began before you were even born.”
Mother sets her cup down and wraps her hands around my own. The tone in her voice puts me on edge. I don’t like the way her amber eyes shine.
“Did your father ever tell you how close the monarchy came to unifying with the maji clans?”
I nod, recalling our talk on the warship before we reached the sacred island. It was the closest I ever felt to him. The only time I’d ever seen him conflicted about what it took to be king.
“That referendum would have changed everything,” Mother hisses. “In no time at all, the maggots would’ve usurped the throne. This crusade began the moment I realized that I was the only person who could stop it.”
“Stop what?” I tread with care. What in the skies is she talking about? “Burners assassinated the king. They’re the ones who killed the referendum.”
I wait for her to correct her mistake, but she only holds my gaze. “The throne had to be protected, Inan. No matter the cost.”
I yank my hands back, eyes widening as realization dawns.
“You were the cause of that attack?” I whisper. “You killed all of those people just to kill the referendum?”
“I didn’t tell those Burners what to do.” Mother reaches after me. “I only showed our people what would happen the moment we allowed maggots to set foot in the palace—”
I press my hands to my ears, trying to block out the venom that drips from her mouth. The room starts to spin. My fingers go numb.
Those rebels nearly burned the palace to the ground. Father was the only member of the royal family to survive. If not for that act, he would’ve never become the king.
He wouldn’t have retaliated with the Raid.
It could’ve worked. It would’ve worked. There was a chance for a better path.
But Mother destroyed that chance herself.
She’s the reason we’re still fighting now.
“Those Burners started a war!” I push my chair back from the table as I leap to my feet. “A war we are still fighting today! Thousands have paid the price! How can you live with yourself?”
“Keep your voice down!” Mother reaches for my arm again, but I back away from her touch. I search for regret in her eyes. An ounce of remorse.
I find none.
“All the blood on your hands…” I grab my abdomen as my scar throbs. “For skies’ sake, Ojore was there that day. He had to watch his parents burn before his eyes!”
“Those people gave their lives so the true Orïsha could live.” Mother shakes her fist. “When this kingdom is rid of the maji, there will be no pain. No war. You are the ruler who will make sure every sacrifice wasn’t in vain!”
She puts her hands on my cheek, fingers shaking as she smiles.
“Remember what I said. No cost is too great if it means defeating the maji.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
ZÉLIE
BY THE TIME Roën and I make it back to the sanctuary, I can barely keep my eyes open. Any celebration has long since ended, leaving the maji who couldn’t make it to their beds passed out across the grounds. We tiptoe by sleeping bodies tucked into the corners of long halls and curled under tall stairwells. Far below, Nâo and Khani still sway by the waterfall, at peace within each other’s arms.
“Hökenärīnusaī.” Roën gestures to my bedroom door. He drags behind me, forever-vigilant eyes falling to a soft close. The night’s adventure has more than taken its toll, but despite our hours together, I still don’t want him to go.
“What does that mean?” I ask.
“Welcome back.”
“Höke-närī-nusaī,” I repeat, making his sleepy eyes widen. “Am I messing it up?”
He shakes his head. “It’s just been years since anyone sounded like home.”
His words wash over me like a cool breeze as I lean my shoulder against the door. Go in, I think to myself. Let this be the end. But when Roën nestles against the wall, I find myself standing still. He reaches up, fingers brushing my ear as he plays with a wet coil of my hair.
“Are you coming with us tomorrow?”
I nod, though I wish it weren’t true. “I can’t send Tzain in there alone. Amari will eat him alive. And even if Mári and Bimpe don’t want to follow me, I took a vow. I failed to protect Mâzeli from this war. I have to do what I can to protect them.”
Roën traces his fingers down the slope of my neck and his touch erases every other thought. His caress sends a shiver through my chest. I dig my nails into my palm, fighting the part of me that wants to sink into him. I still can’t believe what I saw tonight. Everything he did just to make me smile.
After Baba died, I didn’t think anyone would care about me like that again.
“You know, you’re not half as heartless as you pretend to be.”
“I wish that were true.” Roën trails his thumb across my collarbone, bringing it to my lower lip when I frown. “You were hoping to hear something else?”
I exhale and look away. “I fell for a monster once. I can’t do that to myself again.”
My stomach clenches as he cups the back of my neck, drawing me closer to him. His gaze drops to my lips and I find myself holding my breath.
“Your mistake wasn’t falling for a monster, Zïtsōl. It was falling for the wrong one.”
“Are you supposed to be the right one?”
Roën smiles, but it doesn’t hold any joy. “I’ve never been the right anything.”
Something in my chest deflates when he meets my forehead with a soft kiss. He releases me and turns around, walking down the hall.
Let him go, I will myself. I already know the pain of giving my heart to someone I can never trust. But with each step he takes, everything inside me wants him to stop.
“Roën, wait.” I speak the words though they make my hands shake. I walk toward him, fighting the part of me that wants to run the other way.
“Stay with me.” I reach for his hand, grazing his fingers with my own. “Be with me. Even if it’s wrong.”
I gasp as Roën’s cold hands grab the sides of my face. His body presses against my own, lips meeting mine as my back hits the wood of my door. He doesn’t kiss me like I’ve lost pieces of my heart. He doesn’t kiss me like we’re marching into battle. He kisses me like he’s never going to let go.
Like we have all the time in the world.
“Zïtsōl.” His forehead presses against mine and his honeyed scent fills my every breath. The thought of Inan crosses my mind, but it’s not enough to hold me back.
All we had were lies and broken promises. Dreams we could never achieve. With Roën there are no facades. Only reality.
My door swings open as I surrender to his touch. To the feel of his lips against my ear. He makes me lose myself in his arms, stealing the air from my lungs with every caress.
“Is this okay?” he whispers.
My breath hitches as he squeezes my waist, hands lingering at the hem of my tunic. I nod and mirror his actions, my own fingers traveling up the sculpted muscles of his abdomen.
“Keep going,” I whisper, urging him on. My skin burns at his touch. I breathe in as he pulls me close, fingers trailing up my back—
In a breath, a searing pain shoots through my skin. My own screams echo in my head. My scars prickle beneath Roën’s hands.
I flinch and push Roën back, hyperventilating as the world unravels around me. Though I fight it, I see Saran’s face. I feel his knife digging into my flesh.
“Did I do something wrong?” Roën tries to touch my hand, but I pull it back. I scramble to the far wall, putting as much space between us as I can.
Everything I fight forces its way out, spinning out of my control. I hear Mâzeli’s voice. I feel Inan’s touch. I smell Baba’s blood as it pours out of his chest.
“You should go,” I whisper.
“What’s going on?” Roën’s brows crease. “Talk to me. We don’t have to do anything. Zïtsōl, that’s not why I care about you—”
“Well, I don’t care about you!” The words sting coming out of my mouth. But I know it’s all I have. The only weapon that can keep Roën away.
“You’re just a mercenary.” I shake my head. “Just a monster for hire. At least Inan was a king. At least he believed in something!”
The look on Roën’s face cuts deeper than any other blade I’ve experienced. For once, I don’t see his armor. Only the boy who let me in.
“I don’t care about you.” My breath shakes with every word. “I never could. Just go.”
His face turns to stone as he walks out the door. When it closes behind him, I hug my chest, falling to the floor. I clasp a hand to my mouth, trying to stifle the sound of my sobs.
The silence around me burns more than the memory of the scars on my back.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
AMARI
WARM RAYS HEAT my back, jarring me from sleep. I mumble Tzain’s name, reaching for him as I rub my eyes. My nose wrinkles when I look around, searching for the tiled walls of my elder quarters. It’s as if I’ve been stolen in the night.
All that surrounds me now are reeds.
“What in the skies…”
I run my fingers over the stalks, the feathery leaves tickling my hand. Tall daffodils sprout between the reeds, peppering the endless field with yellow.
I cannot figure out where I’ve gone. It feels far too real to be a dream. But then I sense another presence.
My heart stops when I hear his voice.
“We need to talk.”
