Children of Virtue and Vengeance (Legacy of Orïsha #2)(36)

“Almost done,” she says.

I try to ignore the way my scars lie on full display as they drape the fabric over my chest. They tie a thick bow in back to hide the horrible marks.

“These symbols,” Mári breathes, hands hovering over the golden tattoos that start at the base of my neck. “Should we cover them?”

“Not completely,” Bimpe says. “They’re a part of her.”

I bow my head as Bimpe takes the traditional collar away and fastens a gold band around my neck. Lines of glittering beads spill from the collar, falling over my chest and down my back. They brush the leather sandals strapped to my feet. With the beaded headdress they place along my coils, I look like Mama.

Like Oya come to life.

“Our work is finished.” Bimpe bows, an action Mári mimics.

“You look incredible!” Her brown eyes shine. “Much prettier than Mazeli!”

“Thank you.” I smile as they bow again. But when they walk out the door, all the tightness returns to my chest.

The Reaper Temple sits at the top of the third mountain, yet I can hear the chatter of all the maji waiting at its base. I don’t know how I’m supposed to protect an entire clan when I couldn’t protect Baba. I can barely protect myself.

The ships I watched from Ro?n’s mercenary den sail through my mind as I sit back down. I know being an elder will help me take out Inan, but with each passing day, the freedom I crave seems to slip further and further away.

“Wow.”

I turn to find Tzain standing in the doorframe. He lets out a low whistle, a dazed smile on his face.

“It’s like you’re getting married.”

“I basically am.” I sink into his hug. “But instead of tying my life to one person, I’m shackling myself to an entire clan.”

“Ay, come on now. Before the Raid you wouldn’t shut up about joining the other Reapers.”

“I was just a child. But now…” My voice trails off and I close my eyes, not knowing what to say.

“Too much has passed?” he asks.

“Too much has been taken away.”

Silence descends as I sit back down, thinking of everything and everyone we’ve lost. Magic used to be the thing that made me feel most alive, but now it’s impossible to wield it without thinking of everyone who’s died.

I know I have no choice; I can’t defeat Inan without the Iyika’s help. But to become an elder and take on this sacred role?

It just feels wrong.

“You’re scared.” Tzain kneels in front of me. “But there’s no one better for this job. Say what you want, but I remember the way your eyes lit up after you and Mama watched that Reaper elder ascend.”

The memory he speaks of comes flooding back in. I see Mama’s beautiful dark skin; her crown of thick white hair.

The last time a new Reaper elder was chosen, we traveled all the way to Lokoja to witness his ascension. Mama squeezed my hand as the ritual started. Her palms always smelled of coconut oil.

I remember holding my breath when the ascension site lit up with a deep purple light, the sign of Oya’s presence. Black smoke filled the ritual grounds, obscuring the new elder from our view.

“What’s happening?” I whispered.

“His ìsípayá,” she whispered back. “Every clan elder receives a piece of their god’s wisdom when they ascend. The prophecy is meant to help them lead their clans.”

“I want an ìsípayá!” I said, and Mama laughed.

“Me too.” She held me tight. “One day we might get one for ourselves.”

I didn’t know what it meant to be an elder back then. I just knew that whatever Mama wanted, I had to have.

“You can do this.” Tzain helps me to my feet. “I know it. You just need to prove it to yourself.”

I nod and exhale a deep breath, looking back to the temple door.

“Okay,” I say. “Let’s go.”



* * *



A HUSH FALLS over the crowd of maji as Mama Agba steps into the stone circle at the base of the third mountain. Almost eighty members of the Iyika watch from the stone’s borders, accompanied by the div?ners in their clan. Mama Agba looks like a goddess in a tall, silver headwrap and matching patterned cloak. The shining silk glides behind her as she walks to the center of the circle, white paint highlighting her brow and tracing her cheekbone.

“The gods are smiling today,” she addresses the crowd. “Your ancestors smile as well. Each time a new elder rises to lead their clan, we breathe life into what our enemies tried to destroy!”

Cheers echo throughout the crowd and I have to inhale to take it all in. It’s a sight I wish I could carry to Baba’s grave. For the first time, his death feels like it means something.

“Before the Raid, the role of elder was reserved for the most powerful maji in a clan,” Mama Agba continues. “If one believed that title belonged to them, they had the right to challenge for the chance to prove it. Alternatively, an elder could recognize a new power and step aside. It has been brought to my attention that is what one of you would like to do now.”

Mama Agba clasps her hands together and turns to the three Reapers gathered in the far corner. Though it’s the smallest clan at the sanctuary, seeing that many Reapers in one place makes my throat tight. A few moons ago, there were no Reapers in Or?sha at all.