Children of Virtue and Vengeance (Legacy of Orïsha #2)(33)

All conversation halts when Mother summons her magic. The air twists around her as she opens her hands, igniting an emerald glow within her chest. Deep greens crackle around her golden armor like lightning and veins bulge against her neck. Mother stretches out her fingers, making the circle of t?táns around her freeze in place.

“Skies,” I curse, flinching at the sight. The t?táns around Mother seize, grunting as she rips the ashê from their veins.

The soldiers fall to their knees when Mother’s eyes glow green. With a grunt, she thrusts her hands forward and her power breaks free. Emerald light cuts through the mounds of rubble like a knife, carving the dirt wall into pieces.

We shield our eyes as the ruin wall explodes, a mess of twisted metal and debris flying through the air. My chest tightens when the smoke starts to clear. Seven members of the Iyika stand at the top of the highest hill overlooking Lagos.

Here we go.

Stillness descends as we take the rebels in. Dirt mars their faces and white coils. Frayed kaftans hang from their limbs. They don’t look friendly, but their presence is enough. It’s the first sign of hope.

The first sign this peace could work.

“Raifa.” I raise a hand to the young Burner standing in front. She takes the first step forward. I mirror her approach.

“I’m glad you came.”

Mother tries to keep me from stepping beyond the broken gates, but I push her away. If this is going to work, they need to see that I trust them. They must think I’m not afraid.

“It’s alright.” I wave the others forward. “You’re protected under my orders.”

Raifa doesn’t say a word. Despite our distance, I can hear her labored breaths. But as she nears, she extends her hand. I smile at her resolve, extending mine as well.

Then I see the sparks firing at her fingertips.

“Protect the king!” Mother’s voice turns shrill. In a second, chaos abounds. Soldiers drag me back as Mother’s t?táns storm forward, deploying every majacite bomb they have.

Shattered glass rings as their orbs break. Someone forces a golden mask over my face. My head spins as the poisonous gas coats the battlefield, making it impossible to see the action.

“Mother!” My scar burns as I wait for the blackness to clear. When the smoke thins, I break free, praying the bodies on the ground aren’t any of my soldiers.

“Is everyone alright?” My voice cracks as I approach the maji lying in the scorched earth. The rebels are burned beyond recognition. Their skin sizzles as the majacite lingers over their corpses.

Though some of my soldiers sport new scrapes and bruises, all of my men and women still stand. Mother wipes a line of blood from her lips and spits.

“Filthy maggots.”

“I’m sorry.” I stumble back, struggling to stay on my feet. My body starts to shake as everything that just happened hits me. I thought I was taking the first step toward peace. I risked everything to be a different kind of king. But the Iyika didn’t even make it into the city before they staged their attack.

Ojore was right; the maji don’t want peace.

They want victory no matter the cost.

Mother’s brows soften as she takes in my despair. She sighs and takes me by the hand. “You were leading with your heart, but you must realize that not every person in Or?sha deserves it.”

I force myself to nod, squeezing the bronze piece to quell the tremor in my hand. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

“Wait.” We look up as Ojore walks among the corpses on the ground. “There are only six bodies here. I counted seven on top of that hill.”

I jog forward, stomach dropping when I realize which face is missing.

“Where’s the girl?” I shout. “Where is Raifa?”

Confusion spreads as people search the woods, but I catch her lanky silhouette behind the broken ruin walls. She whips around when she hears her name, a golden mask fixed over her face.

Panic fills her large brown eyes and she looks to the single path leading back to the marketplace. It’s then I understand her true target.

The others were just a distraction.

“Stop her!” I command.

Raifa rips off her mask, sprinting as fast as her thin legs will allow. Her white hair bounces along her back as she races past the div?ner dwellings, reaching the ruins of the merchant quarter.

Soldiers defending the ration carts move into her path, but Raifa stretches out her hand. Sparks fly from her fingers as she shouts.

“Iná òrìsà, gbó ìpè mi!”

A t?tán tackles her to the ground, but her embers still take to the air. They grow brighter as they fly through the sky. Horror floods me when the flames reach their full size.

Five comets race toward the ration carts. People dive out of the way. My heart seizes when they strike.

In a flash, the rations go up in flames.

“No!” I fall to my knees and clutch my chest, struggling to breathe as our food burns. A rage that doesn’t feel like my own floods me from my core.

Half of our rations.

Destroyed in seconds.

“This is only the beginning!” Raifa shouts, thrashing as more soldiers hold her down. She trembles when Ojore stomps toward her, but she continues to yell. “Your time is over! All of Lagos will burn! The Soldier of Death is coming—”