Children of Virtue and Vengeance

by Tomi Adeyemi

  I can’t move in the wake of his words. They hit me deep in my core. Roën stares at me before exhaling a slow breath and pressing a fist to his forehead.

  “Forget it.” He drops his hands and walks past the two of us. “I’m just a mercenary. What do I know?”

  “Roën.” I grab my chest as my throat closes up. The stale cave air starts to thin. My head begins to spin.

  “Slow down!” Nâo shoots out her hand, extending the tunnel of air as Roën charges ahead. “I don’t know what’s going on with you two, but we need to stay together!”

  When Roën doesn’t listen, Nâo curses, extending another tunnel of air. That’s when I see it.

  The tiny spark of red above his black hair.

  “Roën,” I call after him, but he doesn’t turn back. My legs pick up speed as the scent of oil leaks in. My feet pound against the hard rock. “Wait!”

  I’d know that burning scent anywhere.

  “Roën, stop!”

  I throw Nâo back.

  The first fuse blows as he turns around.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY

  ZÉLIE

  BOOM!

  BOOM!

  BOOM!

  It’s like a line of dominoes falling at once.

  The first fuse is only the trigger.

  Dozens of bombs go off.

  The gods pull the ground from our feet as the cave collapses in every direction. My body throbs with a vengeance as I tumble through the water and darkness.

  “Roën!” I try to shout, but water swallows my screams. My ears ring from the string of explosions. I can’t see anything.

  Falling rocks slice through my skin. The madness only stops when my back slams against the hard ground. The collision knocks precious seconds of air from my lungs. I grab my neck as water fills my throat.

  Help!

  My throat burns as I choke. Before I can figure out which way is up, large boulders hurtle toward me from the cave ceiling.

  I grit my teeth as one lands on my leg. The stone digs into my flesh, cutting through muscle as I pull. I open my eyes to darkness as the truth sets in.

  No one’s coming to save me.

  This is it.

  The realization makes my chest tight. I kick and I scratch and I claw, but my fingers only hit gravel.

  I always thought my life would end in a flash. Now I feel each second that ticks toward my end. I press my free leg against the boulder for leverage, but the jagged stone cuts like a knife. My shin sears as the rock scratches against bone.

  Let go …

  The whisper rises from deep inside. Tears well in my eyes as my body sinks onto the cold floor.

  There’s no war after this. No more scars that’ll never heal. I know the peace of death’s embrace.

  I’ve already tasted the freedom that lies beyond the pain.

  Let go, I mouth the words, holding on to them as my lungs scream for air. I can almost hear Sky Mother’s song when Mama’s silhouette shines through the darkness.

  It shimmers with white light, growing brighter when Baba’s silhouette appears by her side. I lift my head from the floor.

  Then I hear Mâzeli’s voice.

  “Jagunjagun!”

  I almost laugh at the third silhouette that shimmers to life. He stands by Baba’s side, ears still too large for his head.

  I reach out my hand toward Mâzeli’s glow, everything in me wanting to grab on. I can’t bear the pain anymore.

  There’s nothing more I can give this world.

  His light reaches out toward me, a hand pulling me into the beyond. But when it hits, my Second doesn’t grant me aid and pull me to the other side.

  He grants me a vision.

  Time stills as the moments before the explosion push through the fog in my mind. I see the flash of red. I smell the scent of gas that burned my nostrils.

  The ring of bombs go off behind Roën’s head, exploding the tunnel walls and sending us into this abyss. I couldn’t make sense of it at the time, but there were so many explosions. Enough to wipe out an army. Enough to wipe out our army.

  No …

  My head spins as the realization takes hold. We didn’t just trigger an attack.

  We walked right into a trap.

  The truth is like another boulder falling onto my chest. We thought we held the advantage, but somehow the monarchy knew we were coming. They knew we would take this path.

  If they set this trap below, what other dangers lie above? What traps have they set for our people marching past Lagos? The maji and diviners are nearly defenseless.

  All of our elders are here!

  “Nana—”

  My body goes numb with dread as Sky Mother’s song vibrates through my skin. Though Mâzeli’s silhouette draws back, the warm embrace of death reaches for me as my lungs collapse. Fire burns as water rushes down my throat, suffocating me from within. It stings more than any pain I’ve ever known. More than my body can hold.

  Everything inside me screams to give in. To fall into the blackness. To end the suffering.

  But beyond the pain, I see the gap between Mári’s two front teeth. The patch of discoloration around Bimpe’s brown lips.

  I see the faces of every Reaper I’ve yet to meet. I see my brother’s laugh. I see Amari and the other elders.

  The monarchy we must find a way to beat.

  The pain is too much to take, yet the same agony spurs me on. The pain I’ve been so afraid to feel is how I know I’m still alive.

  It’s how I know there’s still something inside me that can fight.

  Ẹ tọnná agbára yin.

  The tattoos on my skin ignite with golden light as I invoke the command in my head. As they heat me in the ice of the water, I allow them to amplify the little lifeforce I have left.

  A silent scream escapes in bubbles as I roar. Though I have nothing left to give, I push with all that I am.

  My leg sears as stone cuts to the bone, scraping the flesh from my shin. With a gasp, my leg breaks free. My arms start to move.

  Water fights me as I kick off the lake floor, following that one command. Tzain. Amari. Roën.

  If I die now, they don’t stand a chance.

  Live.

  Every muscle in my body falls limp, depleted of all oxygen. But I lift a shaking hand, picturing every one of my Reapers.

  A purple glow cuts through the darkness, rumbling as shadows twist from my fingers. They latch onto something above, pulling me up through the water.

  As I rise, it all falls away. Every ounce of pain. Mâzeli’s final words. Baba’s smile. The chain they wrapped around Mama’s neck.

  I choke as I leave every scar they carved onto my heart behind and break through the water’s surface.

  Live.

  I want to live.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE

  INAN

  MY ARMS FALL LIMP as the dagger hangs in midair. I don’t believe my eyes. Ojore controls the metal with his hand.

  He drops the sword meant for Mother’s head as he turns the dagger on me.

  “You’re a maji?”

  A snarl rises to Ojore’s lips.

  “I prefer the term tîtán.”

  He flicks his finger and the dagger goes flying. I dive out of the way as the blade pierces the iron wall at my back. Right where my head would have been.

  I don’t have a chance to rise from the ground before the plates under my feet transform. The metal slides around my ankle like mercury. Slanted columns shoot up from the floor.

  I cry out as one strikes me in the gut. Another clips my jaw. A flat column hits my chest with such force I twist onto my back.

  All the while, Ojore watches from the corner. A soldier shaking with emotion. His mastery is greater than any I’ve seen. Far beyond a normal Welder’s capabilities.

  “I hated myself,” he whispers. “I hated what I had become. I thought magic was the problem, but it was you and your mother all along!”

  I fling another dagger from my belt, but O
jore splits the metal before it can strike. The air rings as it breaks into thick needles. With a snap of his fingers, the shards pierce my thigh.

  “You don’t deserve the throne.”

  The agony is so great, I can only gasp. My body seizes as the metal works through my blood. With another clench of his fist, Ojore tears the armor from his skin.

  It molds around his bicep, transforming into a serrated blade.

  “You can’t claim the right to lead after all you’ve done to tear this kingdom apart.”

  The metal beneath me shifts, wrapping around my wrists. I can barely see straight as he lifts me up, hanging me in front of him with metal restraints.

  “You and your mother.” He shakes his head. “You’re a poison.”

  He melts my breastplate, lifting my undercoat to line up his blade with my father’s scar.

  “I intend to end the epidemic with yo—”

  I thrust forward, driving my knee into his chin. A loud crack echoes through the room as Ojore’s leg buckles.

  The metal restraints dissolve as he stumbles and I crash to the ground. But when he lunges for me, a cobalt cloud shoots from my hand. The bones in my arm snap as my magic hits him in the chest, temporarily paralyzing him.

  I drag my body toward the door as Ojore bares his teeth, fighting my hold. His body shakes as I try to escape.

  “Help!” I shout, my voice hoarse.

  Ojore roars like an animal, fists clenched as he rips metal plates from the walls. The iron sheets surround me as I crawl, sharpening into blades.

  I look back, not recognizing the monster that wears Ojore’s face. We did this to him. We poisoned him with all our hate.

  Now we shall pay the price. I can’t even pretend he isn’t justified. He deserves retribution for all the blood on our hands. All of Orïsha does—

  “Inan!”

  A blast rips the fortress door from its hinges.

  I look up as Mother lunges toward us and shoots out her hand, driving a column of earth up from the ground.

  Ojore’s eyes bulge as it punctures his stomach. The metal blades surrounding me fall to the floor, clanking with their impact. Ojore slumps forward as blood leaks from his gut, pooling onto the silver floor.

  “Quick!” Mother screams. “Get the Healers! We need to retreat!”

  Boots pound my way, but I can’t see past the hatred frozen on Ojore’s face.

  He’s dead.

  Ojore’s dead.

  The realization hurts more than any wound.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO

  ZÉLIE

  I WHEEZE AS I break the surface. I fight to breathe through my coughs. Unfamiliar mountains surround me. Pale yellow light shines from above.

  I drag myself to the thin stretch of stones along the water’s surface, shaking as I latch on to something solid. My throat burns as I cough, shooting water from my lungs onto the mountain stone.

  Breathe, I command myself. Air has never tasted so sweet. I try to take it all in as I fight to think through the haze.

  My mind spins in waves, but one thought breaks through the noise. Nâo was furthest from the blast. But the cave collapsed right above Roën’s head.

  If he’s still alive, he needs my help!

  Though I still choke, I inhale all the air I can. Another second is all I give myself before diving back into the water.

  Ẹ tọnná agbára yin.

  The moonstone’s marks glow along my skin, lighting my way through the darkness. Only one life pulses through the water’s depths.

  One that grows dimmer by the second.

  I’m coming!

  My leg throbs. Crimson bleeds into the water with each kick. But the agony is a gift. It’s like air to my lungs, reminding me to fight on.

  My heart clenches at the sight of Roën’s limp form. His lifeforce is faint, only centimeters from death. A cracked mask like the one we used to surf the blue whale hangs from his nose, giving him his last breaths of air.

  I dive closer until I see the massive slab crushing his bicep, pinning him to the rocky floor. I brace my good leg against the stone, but it’s far too heavy to roll. No matter how I shift, his body won’t budge. We’re running out of time.

  Roën reaches out and squeezes my wrist as the last few bubbles float from his lips. Though he can’t speak, I feel his command.

  “Go.”

  No! I shout to myself. How many times has he pulled me out from under? Dragged me back to the surface when I thrashed through water? I won’t let him drown. It’s my turn to rescue him.

  Èmí òkú, gba ààyé nínú mi—

  Purple shadows spread like ink through the water as Roën’s eyes roll back. My shadows push against the stone, but they’re too weak. Too slow.

  Roën’s limbs start to float. There’s only one way to break him free.

  My heart slams against my chest as my shadows shift, wrapping around his arm. Another shadow spreads through the water, creating a serrated blade. I send a prayer to Oya and close my eyes.

  My shadow slices through his shoulder as I use up my last breath.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE

  ZÉLIE

  STAY WITH ME.

  I kick with the little I have left, Roën’s body tucked under my arm. His severed arm lies underneath the boulder.

  My glowing tattoos light the rivers of crimson that leak from his gaping shoulder. I try to forget how long he’s gone without air when we finally break the surface.

  “Stay with me!” I shout as I push down on his chest. Water shoots out of his mouth. He chokes as it comes out.

  His body seizes when I drag him to the thin strip of land. But I won’t let him die on me.

  I won’t lose another person I love.

  “Zélie.” He forces out my name through shaking breaths. His stormy eyes dart in all directions, yet they can’t seem to take anything in. He grasps at me with his remaining hand. He doesn’t seem to understand.

  “My arm. My a—”

  “Just stay with me.” I press against the wound, but warm blood still leaks out from between my fingers. His heart pumps at double the speed, rattling against his rib cage.

  The shadows of my tourniquet fade with my waning strength. Roën’s eyes finally stop at the moon above. His lips part as he struggles for breath.

  “My mother,” he chokes. “She would sing…”

  “What would she sing?” With one hand still pressed on the wound, I rip off Roën’s belt. Blood flows free as I tie it tight, a hand’s length below his wounded shoulder.

  “Roën, what would she sing?” I shout at him, not caring if anyone hears. His voice is little more than a rasp, but he hums a foreign tune that grows louder with every note.

  “Huh-mmm … huh-mmm…” He fights to keep it up. His voice cracks like a baby bird’s, yet I can hear the remnants of his home.

  “Keep going.” I fight my tears, slipping a long stone into the knot of the tourniquet. “Please, Roën. It’s beautiful.”

  “Huh-mmm … huh-mmm…”

  I use the rock like a lever and twist. Roën’s belt almost snaps as it tightens, leather cracking before the bleeding stops.

  “She would sing it.” His eyes start to drift. “When it rained … it always rained…”

  “Hey!” I slap his face. “Keep going. What would she say?”

  He tries to speak, but no words come out. His pink lips turn blue before my eyes. The bleeding may have stopped, but his skin still pales.

  It’s not enough.

  “Roën, please!” My heart rips as I cradle his head. His body is cold to the touch. My tears leak onto his face. “Keep talking. What would she say?”

  “The thunder,” he manages to croak, but his voice falters. Though it feels like I may shatter, I force myself to sing the notes.

  “Huh-mmm…”

  Roën reaches up his shaking hand and grabs my own.

  “Just stay with me.” I stroke his hair in between the notes. “I’ll sing it as long as you wan
t, but you have to stay right here.”

  He nods, but his breaths escape in rapid spurts. Veins bulge against his neck as he fights for air. For life.

  “Roën, please.” I move my bloodied hand from his hair to his cheek. Beneath his skin, his lifeforce dims, slipping away like grains of falling sand.

  “Zïtsōl.” He forces the word out through his final gasp. He grips me with the last strength he has. “Home.”

  Confusion racks me as his fingers fall limp. But when the meaning hits, my body turns to stone.

  Home …

  That’s what it’s meant this entire time.

  “Roën!” I scream, but he doesn’t move. His eyes won’t open. His chest doesn’t rise.

  “Roën!” My shriek echoes. “Roën, please,” I whisper into his hair. But he’s not here.

  He’s gone.

  Grief tears a hole inside my heart. My bloodied hands fly to my chest. Though there’s air, I can’t draw breath. But when my tattoos shine with dim light, I see a flicker of gold in Roën’s heart. It’s smaller than a seed.

  Smaller than a tear.

  As it fades before my eyes, I think of my ìsípayá: the gold tether of life intertwining with the purple. I thought Oya was trying to show me the truth behind the cênters and the source of their magic. But what if I was the purple light?

  What if the gold was Roën all along?

  “Oya, please.” The tattoos on my skin flicker to life again. For the first time, they don’t shine in gold. They shine with Reaper purples.

  The glowing seed is the only sign of life in Roën’s body, but it’s enough. It still holds a remnant of life.

  “Ẹ tọnná agbára yin.”

  Particles of purple light crystallize before my chest. They weave together like my shadows of death, forming a broken, twisting thread.

  I push though I can hardly keep myself conscious. The thread moves like a knife, piercing through Roën’s chest as his body rises above the stone. I feel the moment it digs into his heart. My teeth clench as my own heart strains.

  “Ẹ tọnná agbára yin,” I gasp. “Ẹ tọnná agbára yin!”