Children of Virtue and Vengeance (Legacy of Orïsha #2)(5)

I click my tongue and ride off, dismounting Nailah when I reach the end of the path in front of Ro?n’s den. Her own daughter may have magic now, yet somehow she can still hate me for mine.

“Would you look at that.” A raspy voice greets me when I near the entrance of the hideout where Ro?n’s crew resides. I roll my eyes as the mercenary slides down his black mask, revealing Harun—Ro?n’s enforcer. The last time the mercenary and I met, I threw him to the ground. Ro?n told me I broke his ribs. Harun hasn’t approached me since that day, but now danger dances in his gaze.

“Tell me.” He drapes a heavy hand across my shoulders. “What’s brought my favorite maggot crawling out of the dirt?”

I throw off his arm and whip out my staff. “I’m not in the mood for your games.”

He smiles as I size him up, revealing his yellowed teeth. “These streets can be dangerous at night. Especially for a maggot like you.”

“Call me maggot again.”

My scars prickle at the slur King Saran had carved into my back. I clench my staff when more mercenaries slink out of the shadows. Before I know it, five of them have me cornered against the cavern wall.

“There’s a bounty on your head, maggot.” Harun steps forward, eyes flickering over the new golden marks on my skin. “I always thought you’d fetch a nice price, but even I couldn’t have guessed how high that price would rise.”

The smile drops off his face, and I catch the glint of a blade.

“The girl who brought magic back. Right before our eyes.”

With every threat Harun makes, the magic he speaks of bubbles in my blood. My ashê simmers like lightning gathering in a storm cloud, just waiting to be released with an incantation.

But no matter how many mercenaries appear, I won’t let it out. I can’t. Magic’s the reason Baba’s gone. It’s a betrayal to use it now—

“What do we have here?”

Ro?n tilts his head, sauntering in from Jimeta’s streets. As he approaches the entrance of the cave, a ray of moonlight strikes a patch of smeared blood along his chin. I can’t tell whether or not the blood is his.

Ease drips from Ro?n’s stance and his foxer smile, but his storm-gray eyes pierce like knives.

“I hope you’re not having a party without me,” he says. “You both know how jealous I can get.”

The circle of mercenaries instinctively parts for their leader as he makes his way to the front. Harun’s jaw clicks when Ro?n pulls out a switchblade and flicks it open, using the tip to dig out grime from underneath his fingernails.

Harun looks me up and down before walking away. His threat leaves a bitter taste on my tongue as the other mercenaries follow suit, peeling off until Ro?n and I are alone.

“Thanks,” I say.

Ro?n pockets his blade and glances down at me, lines deepening in his frown. He shakes his head and gestures for me to follow.

“Whatever you have to say, my answer’s still no.”

“Just hear me out,” I plead.

Ro?n walks briskly, forcing me to keep up with his long strides. I expect him to lead me into the mercenary den, but he takes the winding ledge around the cavern’s back instead. The path grows narrow as we ascend, but Ro?n only picks up the pace. I press into the cave wall as white waves crash against the sea bluffs meters below.

“There’s a reason I slogged through the rain to get to that ship,” Ro?n says. “You seem to forget my crew doesn’t love your angry little face as much as I do.”

“What was Harun going on about?” I ask. “Someone’s put a price on my head?”

“Z?tsōl, you brought magic back. There’s no shortage of people willing to pay to get you in their grasp.”

We reach the end of the ledge and Ro?n steps onto a large wooden crate reinforced with iron planks. He motions for me to join him, and I hesitate, following the bundle of ropes attaching his shoddy pulley system to something above.

“You know, in my lands Z?tsōl is a term of endearment. It means ‘one who fears that which cannot hurt her.’”

I roll my eyes and step onto the moaning planks. Ro?n smiles as he pulls on the rope. A counterweight falls and the cart shudders when we rise, ascending like birds in the sky.

My fingers fly to the cart’s weathered edge when our height allows me to see all of Jimeta’s new tents. From the warship, I counted the dozens along the northern dock, but hundreds more run up and down the rocky coast.

In the distance, a long line of people trudge along, white-haired maji and dark-haired kosidán boarding a modest boat. It’s hard not to feel responsible as families disappear beneath the ship’s deck. I can’t believe the chaos from bringing magic back has already chased so many Or?shans from their homeland.

“Don’t waste your time looking down,” Ro?n says. “Look up.”

My lips part as I shift my gaze, taking in the views thirty meters into the air. This high up, Jimeta’s towering cliffs are dark silhouettes jutting into the sky. Bright stars coat the atmosphere like diamonds stitched into the fabric of night. The view makes me wish Baba were still alive; he always loved to stare up at the stars.

But as we continue to rise, I glance back down at the people below. I almost wish I was boarding a ship with them. What would it be like to sail to the promise of peace? To live in a land where maji weren’t the enemy? If I could leave all this behind, would it still hurt this much to breathe?