Children of Virtue and Vengeance

by Tomi Adeyemi

  The pulse of energy that explodes makes the ground beneath us crack. Gravel and dirt float around our feet. Bark splits in the surrounding trees.

  The world moves in slow motion, illuminated by the rainbow of colors flooding from our eyes and mouths. The power of the gods burns through our beings as we march down the hill.

  Kâmarū and Kenyon step forward, powerful ashês glowing around their forms. An emerald light shines through the Grounder’s skin as a red one burns through our Burner’s.

  Together they shove their hands into the ground and the earth vibrates at our feet.

  With a clench of Kâmarū’s fist, the entire ground lifts.

  Kenyon follows, creating a wave of lava that spreads through the land.

  Majacite mines explode, one after the other, mushrooming in clouds of black. The lava Kâmarū and Kenyon create churns through the earth. Black plumes of smoke shoot into the sky.

  “Defenses ready!”

  Alarms blare at our attack. The first wave of tîtáns charge as the majacite flies. But before the soldiers and gas can strike, Jahi and Imani lift their hands.

  The air howls at our Winder’s command as the Cancer transforms the majacite before our eyes. The black clouds turn orange.

  The sweat on my skin chills as a violent gust curves around our backs, so powerful the trees snap in half. The golden soldiers fly back into the wall as the transformed poison blows into them. Blood shoots from their mouths and their skin turns black like the villagers in Ibadan.

  “Don’t let them through!” a tîtán screams.

  Iron groans as muzzles take aim. Cannons light like fireworks along the wall. Bombs explode in our path.

  The soldiers throw everything they have, but it isn’t enough to slow us down. Kâmarū stops each cannonball with a wave of his hand. For every explosive Jahi blows away, Kenyon sends a firebomb back. We break through every defense until there’s only one left: the soldiers themselves.

  The legion of tîtáns run forward in droves, all glimmering in their golden armor. Dozens charge from every point across the wall, magic blazing in their hands. But with the power of the moonstone, I can feel their spirits like the falling rain.

  I stretch out my fingers and close my eyes, reaching for the life running through their veins.

  “Gan síb1!”

  When I raise my hand, every tîtán freezes in place. They seize as I close my fist, ripping their spirits from their flesh. A smile spreads across my lips as they fall into the dirt.

  Nothing stands in our way when we come face to face with the wall.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-EIGHT

  INAN

  AS I STAND on the dais in the throne room, my hands shake with the weight of what I’m about to do. With Mother subdued, the hardest battle is won. All that’s left are the people in this hall.

  Silver platters of food fill long tables, glistening with roasted hen and moín moín pies. Red wine flows like water among the merry crowd. Nobles and officers spin on the polished marble tiles.

  Above, Father’s seals are gone, wiping the palace of the vicious snow leopanaire. In their place, navy banners shine, sporting an embroidered cheetanaire that Mother designed for my reign.

  Staring at the ryder, I think of the bronze piece I no longer have. Mother desired an animal that was less commonplace.

  She didn’t realize how soon these banners would fall.

  I take in the palace one last time, feeling the weight of history that hinges on this moment. After today, Orïsha will never be the same. When the monarchy falls, chaos will sweep the lands.

  But there will be a chance. I close my eyes. A chance for something to rise from the ashes. A vision for Orïsha that isn’t corrupted by our past.

  Music dies down as I raise my hand and stand before the throne. I reach for all the strength I have as I address the crowd.

  “Thank you all for being here.” I nod to the attendees. “This war has stolen so much from us. It’s a joy to celebrate its end.”

  “All hail King Inan!” a lieutenant shouts from the back. People smile and lift their goblets. Pressure builds in my chest as I motion for them to lower their cups.

  “These difficult times have brought equally difficult lessons. The end of this war gives us a chance to right our former wrongs. To confront Orïsha’s dark history and make a lasting change. In searching for the best path forward, I was brought back to the legends many of us grew up without hearing. I’d like to share one of these legends with you now.”

  My throat dries and I swallow, wishing I had grabbed a goblet of wine. My fingers twitch around themselves, but there’s nothing I can hold anymore. Nothing I can hide behind.

  You can do this. I picture Zélie’s face in the crowd. I imagine Ojore at her side.

  For them, for Orïsha, I can do anything.

  “In the beginning, there was nothing. Not until Sky Mother made it so. She gave birth to the gods above.” I lift my hands. “The humans below. With the gift of life came her gift of magic, a power that allowed us to build this great kingdom. But in the beginning, the lands were governed by the clans. The people ruled over one another.” I take a step back, running my hands over the sculpted throne. “We didn’t have our first rulers until a group of maji abused their gifts. They lost their ability to do magic, but their actions established this monarchy.”

  The mood in the hall starts to shift, a storm brewing beneath the gentle rain. Quiet whispers pass from mouth to mouth. I catch questions of Mother’s whereabouts.

  “You’ve been called here to celebrate a new era, and a new era it will be. The downfall of Orïsha is linked to this throne. Countless people have paid its toll in blood.” I raise my voice as the crowd starts to swell. “I intend to put the affairs of this kingdom in order. Then I’m ending this institution altogether.”

  People rush toward the stage. Confused guards keep them at bay.

  “You can’t do that!” a noble shouts.

  “The maggots have messed with his head!”

  “Please!” I raise my hands. “I know you’re scared, but in time you shall see this is what’s best. With the proper support, we can build something better than the monarchy. An institution that serves all the great people of these lands—”

  BOOM!

  The rumble freezes us where we stand.

  It doesn’t ring like an explosion.

  It roars like a lionaire.

  Alarms blare as bursts of rainbow light flash in the distance, drawing closer by the second. It’s then I see the hole in Lagos’s wall. My eyes widen when the realization hits. The elders …

  They’ve come for the people we took.

  “Run!” I shout. “Leave the palace now!”

  The hall erupts in hysteria as people push against one another to escape. Goblets clank against the marble tiles. Tables crash to the ground as people run past.

  “Get to safety!” I yell. “The Iyika are coming—”

  Screams ring as the throne room windows shatter.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-NINE

  AMARI

  BROKEN GLASS SPARKLES like diamonds, glittering as it arcs through the air. Jahi’s winds carry our fighters over the chaos, bringing us to the marble floors. It’s like waking up in a dream to land in the walls of my own home. I can’t see past the mass of bodies fleeing the throne room.

  “Attack!”

  Zélie’s command releases the storm. With a roar, the maji launch forward, unleashing their connected wrath. Imani levels a platoon with her rust-colored gas. Nâo turns barrels of wine into battering rams. Kenyon’s blaze rips through the painted ceiling, burning through the banners that hold Inan’s seal.

  Magic tears through the throne room, destroying the beautiful cage. A pressure lifts from my chest when Kâmarū shoots forward, ripping the golden throne in half.

  “They’re holding them in the cellars!” Zélie calls back, pushing into the main hall. Nobles and guards get out of her way. Elders follow after her as she races towar
d the stairs.

  I sprint toward her to help, but then I feel the ground shake. Behind me, Mother nearly tumbles down the stairs, unsteady on her legs. Her cape rips off of her neck, spreading across the marble steps.

  “No!” she yells.

  Mother’s shriek is like a prison cell closing me in. Looking at her, I see myself. The path she set me on. I think of all the blood she put on my hands. The look from Tzain I’ll never see again.

  She clutches the wall for support, muscles shaking beneath her ripped gown. Horror fills her face as she takes in the scene, but it turns to hatred the moment she spots me.

  “You.” She bares her teeth, pushing her weight back onto her trembling feet. I raise my hand to strike, but she wrenches a chunk of marble up from the ground and shoots it at me.

  My stomach clenches as the slab rams into my core. The impact knocks me into the wall, stealing the breath from my throat.

  I’ve barely hit the ground when Mother hobbles forward, punching out a shaking fist up that glows with green. A pillar of earth crashes through the marble floors and hits me square in the chest. I wheeze as it collides, reaching for my lungs.

  The impact sends me flying across the marble floor. My head spins when I crash to the ground, rolling across the cracked tiles. My vision blurs as Mother closes in. I raise my hand before I can aim.

  “Stop!” I scream.

  The blue comet twists as it flies from my palm. Time seems to slow as it shoots through the air.

  Mother raises her arm to defend, but it gives her no protection. A smothered grunt escapes her lips the moment my magic hits her. Her amber eyes bulge. I push myself up from the ground, coughing up blood.

  Strike, Amari.

  I stumble toward her, rage washing over my pain. Father’s voice echoes in my head, guiding me as I raise my hand.

  Fight, Amari.

  Magic burns as it builds in my palm, but then another voice fills my head.

  No.

  The simple word binds me in its grasp. It holds my magic hostage, forcing me to stand still.

  “What’re you waiting for?” Powders and paints streak down Mother’s face as she taunts me. But I drop my hand, blinking as I step back.

  “It’s over…” The realization catches me off guard. I thought killing Father was the answer. It only turned me into a monster. “You’ve lost, Mother. The maji are taking over. The monarchy’s come to an end.”

  “You spineless traitor!” Veins pulse against Mother’s neck as she fights to break my hold. Her words slur together as she yells. “You’re nothing. You’re not powerful enough to destroy the throne—”

  “You’re wrong!” My shout echoes through the deserted hall. The portraits of old kings and queens stare me down. I look up at them, feeling the power in my blood. “If the past few moons have taught me anything, it’s that I’m capable of great things. I know I can be better. I choose to be better!”

  I release my hand and Mother’s body falls to the ground. She wheezes as she hits the tiled floor.

  “You have never been great!” she roars. “You will never be great!”

  But as she shouts into the floor, I limp toward the cellar stairs.

  Each step I take feels lighter than the last.

  CHAPTER NINETY

  ZÉLIE

  “HELP!”

  The muffled screams echo through the cellar. We sprint across its stone floors, thundering past curved arches and wide pillars. Cries swell through the underground labyrinth, guiding us deep into its winding tunnels. I search for the Iyika when I see Mári at the end of the hall.

  “Elder Zélie!”

  My heart skips a beat when she presses her round face between a row of iron bars. Bimpe runs up behind her, both of them locked in a cell.

  I nearly trip over myself as I sprint to them. The maji of our sanctuary lie in chains, screaming for our aid. Hundreds of bodies fill the cell, packed so tight I can’t see through to the back.

  “Work quickly!” I shout. “Free them!”

  We surge forward, using our magic to rip through the chains. Kâmarū disintegrates the links with one touch as Imani and Khani pull the maji free.

  The moment Bimpe and Mári are released, I take them into my arms. I squeeze them tight as they sob, holding back my own tears of relief.

  “It’s okay,” I soothe them. “You’re safe now. I’m sorry I ever let you get caught—”

  But feet fly past our cell and down the hall, stealing the air from my chest. The relief of saving my Reapers fades when I turn to see Inan.

  His spirit pulls on me like an anchor, dragging me back to him. He sprints down the opposite hall, two soldiers at his heels.

  If I’m going to liberate Orïsha from his tyranny, I must do it now.

  “Follow Imani,” I command. “I’m going after the king!”

  My heart thrashes against my ribcage as I sprint after Inan. Victory lies in our hands. But it won’t be secure until he’s gone.

  The words of his letters reverberate around me, growing louder the closer I get to him. I try to keep his poison from bleeding through my ears.

  There are nights when you visit my dreams—

  When it mattered the most I let you down—

  All this time I thought I was choosing my kingdom over my heart. I was too blind to realize that you were both—

  “Inan!” I shout when he sprints down another flight of stone steps. He stops in his tracks, tripping up the soldiers that run behind him.

  “Your Majesty—”

  “Go,” Inan orders his guards.

  The soldiers look back and forth between us. But despite the way they hesitate, Inan urges them on.

  “This is between us,” he tells them as he turns to face me. “Get out while you still can.”

  With no other choice, the soldiers run off, disappearing into the shadows. Their retreating footsteps quiet as they leave us alone.

  “Go ahead.” Inan’s chest falls. He raises his hands in surrender. “I’m not going to fight you. Not anymore.”

  The vow in his letters hits me as I descend from the last step:

  Should our paths collide again, I will not raise my sword.

  I am ready to end my life at your hand.

  He was telling the truth …

  The thought makes my fingers numb. Tzain was right.

  Even when we crash, we intertwine.

  The bronze piece he left in my ahéré burns at my neck as I force myself to walk toward him.

  “The treasuries are located in the catacombs beneath the royal gardens,” he begins. “When the madness ends, take Tzain and someone you trust. Be mindful of how you distribute the wealth. And the military—” Inan stops himself, closing his eyes. “You already know you have to start over. But don’t forget to clean out each fortress. Our majacite is stockpiled there. Lone soldiers will try to use it against you.”

  “What are you doing?” I stop him. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “By tonight’s end, everyone who knows those secrets will be dead. The only chance Orïsha has is with you at the helm.”

  His words hang in our silence. He’s so calm.

  As if he doesn’t speak of his own death.

  I swallow as I approach him, pushing past the pain in my chest. He almost gives me a smile when we come face-to-face.

  “I’m glad—” his voice cracks. “I’m glad to see you again.”

  “Don’t speak.” My fingers tremble as I raise my hand, placing it over his heart. His lifeforce crackles like a fire, prickling against my fingertips. He tenses as I start to pull, ripping it away from him. Everything that’s passed between us hits me as his life fades.

  I see the moment our paths first crossed in the marketplace. Feel the shock it sent through my veins.

  The vibration of his blade against my staff. The roar of the waterfalls.

  The knife that carved through my back.

  The rush of his lips on my neck.

  I feel everything
I don’t want to let in. All the ways he entered my heart.

  “I’m sorry,” he chokes.

  “I know,” I whisper back. Though I’ve fought for his death, this feels like I’m killing a piece of myself. Inan’s breath stalls as I squeeze my hand. I close my eyes, unable to look as his heartbeat slows.

  “Goodbye,” I whisper.

  He chokes in response—

  “Zélie!” Roën shouts. I whip around as he barrels down the stone steps. A mask hangs in his metal hand. He sprints from a moving wall of white.

  Confusion overwhelms me as Roën throws the mask to me, his body falling the second the cloud engulfs him.

  I don’t have a chance to put it on before the cloud of white takes me as well.

  EPILOGUE

  THE SEARING PAIN forces my mind awake. My head throbs as my lids flutter open, eyes only finding the dark.

  The stench of vomit and urine fills my nose. My throat burns as I choke. I try to rise to my feet, but the moment I shift, I trip over chains.

  What in Oya’s name?

  I wince, tumbling to the wooden floor. Thick metal unlike any I’ve encountered before binds my ankles and wrists. The chains rattle through the silence as I struggle to break their hold.

  It takes a few moments before my mind returns to the cloud of white. The gas knocked me unconscious before I even hit the ground. My heart stops as the realization sets in.

  I didn’t get him.

  We didn’t win.

  “No!” I shout, banging my fists against the wooden wall. My breaths hitch as I try to smash the chains binding me apart, desperate to break free.

  We had them. I had them. Yet the monarchy stole the victory right out of our hands.

  Somehow they’ve captured us, and I have no idea where they’re taking us now.

  “Inan!” I roar, though I don’t know if he’s close. I look around me, trying to see who surrounds me through the darkness. Dozens of silhouettes fill the cramped space, linked by the same chains. I think of Mári, Roën, and Tzain. How many of us escaped? How many maji lie with me in shackles?