Children of Virtue and Vengeance (Legacy of Orïsha #2)(45)

Amari nods, wiping her tears as she digests my words. “I’ll find a way to apologize to the elders and the Connectors.”

“Good.” I pick up the pigment again, dabbing the streaks along her cheeks. “It’s bad out there. We need you.”





CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE


AMARI


A WALL OF SILENCE greets me when I stand before the gilded archway of the council room. I haven’t shown my face in days. I can only imagine the things they’ll say. But instead of focusing on the glaring elders around the teak wood table, I take in the sacred space. Stained-glass windows bathe the room in rainbow light. Glassy stones form spiraling patterns along the wall.

“Wow…” I breathe, pressing my hand against my chest. A jolt like lightning passes over my skin when I walk in. According to Zélie, the entrance is enchanted, only allowing the elders of the past and present through.

Ten bronze statues encircle the room, monuments to the original leaders of the maji clans. I begin to understand the gravity of these positions when I sit in front of the rusted figure with Connector-blue robes.

If you’re going to be an elder, you need to understand that true magic isn’t about power. I mull over Zélie’s words as we wait for the last elder to join us, studying the maji around the table. Some scrutinize me with a heavy gaze. Others refuse to meet my eyes.

Nao pulls Zélie into a conversation. Kamarū leans forward, resting an elbow on his prosthetic leg. Beside him, Na’imah plays with the pink butterflies in her curls. They take turns landing on her painted fingernails.

To her left, Dakarai, the elder of the Seers, catches one. A plump boy with a thick head of curls, he keeps his chest bare with the exception of the two thin chains around his neck.

“Come to my quarters after the meeting.” Khani pulls my attention, inspecting me with a frown on her freckled face. Though I can’t call Tzain’s old agb?n mate a friend, it’s nice to sit with her again.

“My Healers may not approve of you,” she says. “But they shouldn’t have denied you treatment.”

“Can you blame them?” Kenyon mutters. “Her people are the reason ours are dying.”

The broad-shouldered Burner sits with crossed arms, staring at the patterned walls. I heard he hasn’t spoken much since he found out the monarchy killed a quarter of his Burners outside the city walls.

“I’m sorry about what happened in Lagos,” I say.

Kenyon grunts in response.

“Sorry I’m late,” Folake says as she enters the room. The elder of the Lighter clan shines in her flowing yellow kaftan.

She smiles at Zélie as she takes the empty seat beside her. Her thick locs and cat-like eyes spark memories from our first meeting at Zulaikha’s div?ner camp. With her arrival, all ten elders are present.

“Where do we want to begin?” Zélie asks the table.

“How about we start with elders who are actually maji?”

I stiffen when the boy across from me takes his dig. Though we haven’t met, I know him to be Jahi, the elder of the Winders. A small ribbon of wind whistles between his fingers. If I’ve heard right, he’s seeing Ramaya. No wonder he doesn’t want me here.

“àgbààyà, leave her alone.” Nao smacks her lips. “She won, fair and square.”

“Their magic isn’t like ours,” Jahi responds. “There was nothing fair about it.”

“I’d actually like to speak on that.” I rise, forcing myself to stand tall. I picture how Mother would react in this situation. Even when she didn’t belong, she always had a way of carrying herself that made others feel small.

“I want to apologize,” I say. “I didn’t intend to lose control of my magic like that. I can only imagine how difficult that was to watch. But—”

“Of course there’s a but.” Na’imah snorts.

My nostrils flare, but I push forward. “I think what happened is a perfect demonstration of why it’s in your best interest to make peace with the monarchy.”

I expect the flurry of anger that erupts at my proposition. Some elders curse at me in Yoruba. Others just roll their eyes.

“What are you doing?” Zélie hisses under her breath.

“I said I would apologize,” I whisper back. “But we’re losing this war. This is still the best plan.”

“You see how this is a trap, right?” Jahi looks around the room. “I bet she’s been feeding her brother information. She’s probably the reason we lost our hold on Lagos.”

“You are the reason you lost your hold on Lagos,” I push back. “My brother’s offer for peace was sincere. You forced his hand when you destroyed their food. If you’d only listened to me then, we wouldn’t be here now.”

“Forget that,” Kenyon spits. Actual smoke rises from the Burner’s skin as his anger builds. “They injected majacite into my people. We’re fighting back. We’re strong enough to beat the t?táns.”

“No, you’re not,” I stress. “At least, not all of them. Ramaya was your fiercest soldier, and with barely any knowledge about my magic, I’ve left her comatose. How do you expect to fare against more t?táns with that kind of power?”