Children of Virtue and Vengeance (Legacy of Orïsha #2)(32)

“What about the king’s decree?” Nao asks.

“I agree with Zélie. Give the order to our soldiers at the front. I want those rations burned by sunrise.”

“Ramaya, wait.” I try to grab her arms, but she stops me with a look.

“Speak at my table again and I’ll rip out your tongue with my bare hands.”

I inhale a shaking breath as she walks away, causing the other elders to follow her path. My lips quiver with everything I want to scream. I can’t believe how easily they reject Inan’s attempt at peace.

“What are you doing?” I turn to Zélie. “You could’ve convinced them to give peace a chance!”

“That offer wasn’t peace.” Zélie shakes her head. “It was bait. Inan’s using food the same way he used Baba. He’ll kill any maji who tries to claim it.”

I open my mouth to argue, but I know there’s nothing I can say. There’s no convincing her to give my brother another chance after all those two have been through.

“Just stick to the plan,” Zélie says. “We can use the Iyika to take your family down. The elders will warm up to you when they know you can be trusted.”

“They’ll never trust me.” I stare at the stool where Ramaya sat. I can still feel the heat of her disdain; her hatred for what I am. “But maybe they can respect me…”

My voice trails as I look at my scarred hand.

“What are you thinking?” Zélie asks.

“I need you to help me with my magic.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE


INAN


MY HEART BEATS in my throat as Mother and I make our way down the merchant quarter to welcome the Iyika defectors. Our soldiers have wasted no time on repairs since the rebels’ last attack. In just a few days, all the bodies in the marketplace have been cleared.

We step over the scattered debris swept to the sides of Lagos’s streets to make room for the new ration carts. The stands have only been open since dawn, yet the line of villagers waiting for food still goes all the way to the div?ner dwellings.

“Inan, are you sure about this?” Mother grabs the reins of my snow leopanaire, pulling me close. Behind us, soldiers usher the villagers into underground bunkers created by Mother and her t?táns. “Jok?ye put you on the spot. That maggot threw you off guard. You’re doing great work, but it’s alright to change your mind.”

She voices the thoughts that’ve been bouncing around my skull all night. I have no idea if this will work. If this is truly what’s best for Or?sha.

We ride past the remains of the div?ner slums, and I don’t know whether the destruction tells me to move forward or turn back. There was something beautiful in the rainbow shanties that surrounded my city. Now they’re only mounds of rubble and ash.

I stop in front of a giant hill that used to house fifty shacks; now only sheets of painted metal twist out of the dirt.

“Did the Iyika do this?”

“No.” Mother shakes her head. “I did.”

A ferocity shines in her amber gaze, one I haven’t witnessed before. Every attempt I’ve made to do magic has almost left me comatose, but Mother seems to command the might of gods.

“I didn’t know I wasn’t like the others until those maggots attacked,” she says. “The new t?táns harmed themselves with their abilities, but I was able to absorb their power. I wielded it with a strength no maji could match.” Her voice rises in pitch as her conviction builds. “For so long we’ve been defenseless against the havoc the maji wreak, but now the gods have blessed us as well. We’re powerful enough to annihilate them, Inan. The only way to achieve lasting peace is to cleanse the maggots from this land.”

Her words make my fingers grow cold. To cleanse Or?sha of maji would be finishing Father’s work. It would be another Raid.

As we approach the ruin walls shielding Lagos from the forest, the weight of the world presses down on my shoulders. I’m out of time. I need to make a choice.

“I can break through these ruins,” Mother says. “But I cannot bring them back. Do you really want to risk our only defense for a few rebellious maggots?”

General Jok?ye and the other advisors watch from a safe distance, but their disapproval hangs over me like the smoke in the air. If I’m wrong, we could all suffer. But if I’m right …

Raifa’s sunken brown eyes sear their way through the noise in my head. The young Burner may have spit in my face, but like the rest of my villagers, sharp bones protruded from her sagging skin.

“We have to try.” I exhale a deep breath. “I have to try.”

This is my chance to bring the peace my father couldn’t.

Mother purses her lips together, but nods as she dismounts in front of the ruin walls. At a sharp wave of her hand, her t?táns form a circle around her, imposing in their golden suits of armor.

“Your Majesty, this is a mistake.” Jok?ye shakes her head as I join her and the other members of the royal council.

“General, I know how you feel, but the maji need peace as much as we do.”

“They don’t care about peace,” Ojore mutters. “They want victory no matter the cost.”

His hand travels to the burn scars on his neck and I glance up at the sky. Please, I send the prayer to whatever gods lie above. Prove me right. Let them be wrong.