Children of Virtue and Vengeance (Legacy of Orïsha #2)(47)

I try to keep my steps from echoing as I descend the stone stairs. An expansive brick labyrinth with dozens of rooms, the palace cellar seems to hold all of my darkest memories.

Father used to take Amari and me here when we were children. He forced us to spar. I still remember the way her screams bounced against the stone walls when I took things too far.

Where are you? I look up, wishing I could connect with her now. Mother’s convinced Amari’s working with the Iyika, but that’s not the sister I know.

Zélie may want to burn Lagos to the ground, but this is still Amari’s home. She should be here by my side. Not all alone in the world.

“Where’s the rest?”

I stop in my tracks as the husky voice fills the cellar’s damp halls. The boy speaks Or?shan with a strange lilt, as if he isn’t from this land. I peek around the corner to find Mother standing with two masked men clad in black. One wears a snake-like smile. The other has skin the color of sand.

I’ve seen him before.…

I rub my chin, trying to remember where. Something about the foreigner is familiar. I know our paths have crossed.

“You’ll get the rest when you finish the job,” Mother answers, handing over a velvet purse that clinks with coins. “The majacite was an effective start, but it’s only the beginning. And the Iyika are still interfering with my plans—”

“We’ve got company.”

I freeze; all three sets of eyes land on me. Mother’s lips part in surprise. The mercenaries don’t even bat an eye.

“You scoundrels,” she hisses at them. “Bow before your king.”

The foreign mercenary snorts in response, counting the gold in his velvet purse.

“What?” I walk forward. “You don’t bow before the kings of other lands?”

“I don’t bow before anyone I can kill.”

He looks me up and down before turning back to Mother. “This’ll work for now. We’ll be in touch.”

I expect them to make their way up the stairs, but instead they disappear down the cellar’s dark halls. They move with confidence, as if they’ve traversed this labyrinth before.

“What was that about?” I ask.

“Your sister has worked with them,” Mother explains. “I was seeing if they had any information on her and the Iyika.”

“Amari?” I lean in. “Any leads?”

“The look in your eyes is the very reason I didn’t want you involved.” Mother grabs my arm, leading me toward the stairs. “I know she is your sister, but she is also an enemy of this kingdom.”

“She’s also the only reason I’m alive.”

Mother doesn’t say more until we reach the war room doors.

“Remember, your duty is to the throne. Protect it above all else.”



* * *



“YOUR MAJESTY.”

Every advisor stands when Mother and I enter the war room. Their abruptness catches me off guard. They don’t sit until I give the command.

I smile to myself, taking my place at the head of the oak table. Ojore rises at my signal, moving toward the vast map of Or?sha that covers the far wall.

“I’m pleased to report that after the valiant efforts of our king, we’ve managed to turn the tides in this war,” he addresses the room. “Since liberating Lagos from the Iyika, we’ve reestablished communication with our bases in the north. Assassination attempts are down, and not one fortress has been breached.”

“Let’s not rush to celebrate yet,” General Jok?ye jumps in, braid swinging as she rises from her seat. “While these gains are impressive, the Iyika still pose a significant threat. We still estimate anywhere between two hundred and five hundred soldiers in their forces.”

“Where are we on locating their base?” I ask.

“Closer, but not close enough.” Jok?ye gestures to the mountains north of Lagos. “According to the fortresses in Gusau and Gombe, all their movements appear to originate from the Olasimbo Range. We’ve sent scouts, but none have returned. However, there are signs that the Iyika are on the move again.”

Ojore walks back to the table, grabbing two pieces of parchment. “I’m sure you’re all familiar with the former princess.”

Ojore hangs an old wanted poster with a sketch of my sister’s face. It’s strange to see Amari that way. The soft lines don’t capture how she’s changed.

“Her primary accomplice is a maji named Zélie Adebola,” Ojore continues. “Native of Ibadan, and then Ilorin. She was fundamental in bringing magic back. Maji across the kingdom regard her as the Soldier of Death.”

I try to avert my gaze, but I can’t look away from the illustration. It’s like Zélie stares at me from afar, ferocity piercing through her silver gaze. Look too long, and I feel her vines around my neck. Her lips against my ear.

If I can’t even be in a room with her illustration, I don’t know what I’ll do when we’re face-to-face.

“Do we know where they’re headed?” I ask.

“Our best guess is Lagos,” Jok?ye answers. “They eluded our forces after an insurgent rally in Zaria, but today they were spotted moving south.”

“They’re coming here?” The color drains from Mother’s face. “We’re still a half-moon from completing the new wall.”