Children of Virtue and Vengeance (Legacy of Orïsha #2)(38)

AS THE SUN sets on Lagos, I finally decide how to respond to the Iyika’s attack on our rations. Right now we’re sitting ducks, but if I could locate their camp, we could launch our own offense.

If I don’t free Lagos from their grasp, we won’t have a shot at winning this war. At this rate, they’ll storm our broken walls or let us starve to death.

I have to act now. Before it’s too late.

I wait until night falls. Until the sliver of candlelight turns to blackness outside Father’s door. By the time all falls quiet in the palace, a half-moon hangs in the smoke-filled sky.

I crawl out of bed, replacing my embroidered robe with a tattered kaftan. A stolen canister of black pigment sits under my pillow. I pull it out and cover the white streak in my hair.

Hopefully this is enough. I shift, inspecting my reflection in Father’s mirror. The last time I wore something so simple, I was with my sister and Zélie in the div?ner camp. It all seems so far away, it feels like it never happened at all. Back then I was only a prince. Zélie wasn’t the Soldier of Death.

This is only the beginning! Raifa’s words terrorize my thoughts. All of Lagos will burn!

If I don’t find a way to stop the Iyika, the fall of Or?sha will be my fault.

I crack open my window, inspecting the drop from above. Father’s quarters sit on the fifth floor of the palace, but a series of balconies and railings stand below. I climb onto the ledge, holding the windowsill for support. If I time it just right …

“You’d better be sneaking out to meet a girl.”

I jump at the deep voice, nearly tumbling from the windowsill. Ojore stands in my doorway, arms crossed with a sly smile on his face.

“If you are, I’ll look the other way,” he says. “You could use a nice lay.”

“Then that’s where I’m going.” I look back out at the jump. “You never saw this.”

“Oh, give me more than that.” Ojore closes the door behind him. “You’re about to risk death. At least tell me her name.”

Though he jokes, Zélie’s face fills my mind. I think of her mane of white hair. Her silver gaze. Her dark skin.

For an instant, I’m alone with her in the dreamscape’s waterfall, too ignorant to understand what will come. But I don’t get to sit with the memory before I remember the pain of her black vines choking me to death.

“What happened yesterday was because of me,” I sigh. “Me and this girl. If she’s leading the Iyika now, it’s only a matter of time before they attack Lagos again.”

“So what do you intend to do?” Ojore crosses his arms. “Smooth it over with a kiss?”

“The Iyika are in that forest. If I can find their location, we can attack. I truly think Mother’s magic is powerful enough.”

I try to jump, but Ojore grabs my arm, forcing me to stay back. “You can’t go after them alone.”

“I can’t ask anyone to risk their life for me again.” I shake my head. “Not after what I caused. The Iyika achieved a great victory yesterday, but they also suffered a great loss. No matter their numbers, their guard will be down. This is the best chance I have to locate them.”

Ojore stares at me before releasing a heavy sigh. My brows furrow as he removes his brass breastplate, placing it next to my canister of black paint.

“What’re you doing?” I ask.

“What do you think?” He grabs an old pair of pants off my floor. “Like I said—you’re not going in alone.”



* * *



OJORE AND I TAKE OFF, moving under the cover of darkness. We duck past the soldiers stationed around the palace. The guards outside Mother’s door.

When we make it into the marketplace, it takes a full hour to get past Lagos’s broken gates on foot. We pick up speed when we finally reach the charred forest surrounding the capital, beyond the military’s watch.

“All we have to do is find them,” I repeat my plan. “Find them, and Mother can take care of the rest.”

I look at my own hands, wondering if my power could ever match hers. Out of curiosity, I reach for my magic, but my skin burns with the faint blue wisps that fall from my fingertips. I grab my temple as the meager attempt causes a splitting headache.

“It still hurts?” Ojore observes me, and I nod. The more time that passes, the more I worry my magic will always be like this. Before the ritual I could stun my opponents. Now I only seem to stun myself.

“It was never easy,” I say. “But it used to respond when I was in need. I almost grew used to having it around. It was like another part of me.”

Ojore wrinkles his nose, and I wonder if I’ve said too much. But before I can say more, branches rustle to our left.

My heart jumps into my throat and I grab my sword, waiting for the maji to attack. But when a spotted hyenaire runs past, relief almost brings me to my knees.

“Skies.” I press my hand against my chest, attempting to calm my racing pulse. I look back at Ojore, but he still hasn’t moved. A faraway look plagues his eyes.

“Are you alright?” I ask. Ojore’s free hand trembles by his side. It takes a few moments for him to fall back into himself. When he finally does, he turns away from me.

I feel the heat of his shame.

“You need a minute?”