Children of Virtue and Vengeance (Legacy of Orïsha #2)(49)

“Can you make the vision stronger?” I lean in, squinting to make out the soldiers on the battlefield.

“I can try, but the further away I am, the weaker the picture is.” A silver light glows around Dakarai’s hands as he increases the amount of ashê in his palms. With the surge in power, the image starts to crystallize, allowing us to see what’s ahead.

“Dammit.” Zélie curses at the iron bridge that sits where the old one fell. It connects the southern ledge of our mountain to the one holding Chandomblé’s sacred temple.

More than two dozen soldiers stand guard at the bridge’s base; nearly half of them are t?táns. Battle tactics run through my mind, but they all crumble when I recognize the petite frame of the general who stands outside Chandomblé’s entrance.

“Zélie,” I warn.

“I know,” she replies.

Even under the golden mask, it’s impossible not to recognize the sharp angles of Mother’s face. I knew our paths would cross again. I just didn’t think it’d be so soon.

But if she’s here, there’s a chance Inan isn’t far behind.

“Can you see anyone else?” I ask.

Dakarai attempts to increase the range of his vision, but nothing else appears in his celestial field.

“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head. “But if there are that many on the bridge, it’s safe to assume there are soldiers surrounding the entire temple.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Kenyon blows past us, putting his red-tinted helmet back on. “I don’t care how many there are. I’ll burn them all.”

“Last time we faced Nehanda, she sent an entire dome crashing down on our heads.” I run after him. “We might not be strong enough to defeat them.”

“Speak for yourself. I’m not weaker than some t?tán.”

“You’re definitely not stronger than my mother!” I grab Kenyon’s shoulder, forcing him to wait. “Besides, they knew we were coming. We don’t want to alert them that we’re here.”

“Then what do you propose, Princess?”

All eyes drift in my direction and I pause; this is the first time they’ve ever turned to me for answers. Maybe this is my chance.

Do this right, and I can prove myself to the Iyika while keeping the body toll down. And if Inan’s inside, getting into that temple could be our only way to speak.

“Soldiers on the bridge,” I mutter to myself. “Mostly likely, soldiers around the perimeter…”

I kneel down to the ground, sketching out different scenarios in the dirt.

“I have an idea,” I say.

“A good one?” Kenyon pries.

“It’s an idea.”

The Burner exhales a heavy sigh, but with no other options, he leans in.

“Okay, Princess. Let’s hear it.”





CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR


ZéLIE


I RUN MY THUMB over the scars along my wrist as we wait for everyone to get in position. Amari’s plan requires a nimble team. Less than half of us can make the trip. But as everyone prepares to set off, only one thought fills my mind. There are dozens of soldiers on that mountain.

One of them could be Inan.

Oya, strengthen me. I exhale the quiet prayer, tightening my grip on the stiff leather of Nailah’s new reins. I try to remember how it felt to squeeze the breath from his throat, but all I can feel is how I don’t feel him.

This close to the temple, it’s impossible not to live in the past, to forget the days when Inan chased and I ran. With our connection, I used to feel his presence like the tang in the air before a summer’s rain.

Now, I don’t feel anything.

“Elder Zélie!” Tahir—our strongest Welder—calls out to me from afar. With light brown eyes and skin like pearls, his albinism makes him stand out from the crowd.

Though only fourteen, Tahir’s prodigious talents have made him Kamarū’s Second. It’s because of him and Mama Agba the Iyika have their innovative armor.

“Before you go.” He expands my condensed staff, revealing its new and improved form. Instead of tarnished iron, the polished metal now shares the deep purple hues of my Reaper armor.

“It’s beautiful,” I breathe. “And you were able to make the alterations?”

Tahir nods, pressing a new button in the middle. I jump back when serrated blades extend from each end, piercing forward like daggers.

“You’re a genius!” I spin the staff, marveling at his Welder’s touch. Tahir beams and adjusts the rusted goggles that sit on his forehead.

“It’s my honor, Elder Zélie. Really!”

I press my thumb against the akofena engraved in the staff’s side, trying to draw strength from the swords of war. I stab one end into the dirt, imagining how it’ll feel to dig the blade right through Inan’s heart.

“You’re the Soldier of Death.” Mazeli approaches from behind. “Why in Oya’s name do you need that?”

“Because someone stabbed me in the back,” I say. “If see him, I want to return the gift.”

The smile falls off Mazeli’s face, pressing into a hard line. He picks at his ear as he looks down. “I’m sorry. I’ve never killed anyone.”