Children of Virtue and Vengeance (Legacy of Orïsha #2)(51)

Dakarai follows after her with his arms pressed to his side. Kenyon refuses to look down. When Jahi makes it across, I nudge Mazeli forward.

“Let’s go together,” I offer.

I move toward the ledge, but Mazeli’s feet stay frozen in place.

“What’d I tell you?” I pull him along. “I promise, you’ll be okay.”

Mazeli swallows and balls his fists, tiptoeing over the ledge. I follow close behind him, keeping my hands on his shoulders as we step across the floating earth.

“Almost there…” My voice trails off when I make the mistake of looking down. I can still remember falling into this pit myself, saved only by Lekan’s magic. A giant skeleton lies between the sharp and pointed rocks. Gnats pick at the decomposing carcass.

My stomach reels when I recognize the horns. The memory of Lekan throwing Inan’s ryder off the mountain plays before my eyes.

I snap my head forward and push ahead, grip tightening on Mazeli’s shoulders. I was powerless last time.

I won’t let that happen again.

“Thank Oya!” Mazeli plasters himself against the new mountain ledge, kissing a tuft of moss. Behind him, Tahir falls to his knees, struggling to steady his shaking limbs.

“I’m sorry,” he pants. “I’m better with metal.”

“You did great.” Kamarū helps him up. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Get back to the other side when you can,” Amari instructs. “If something happens and the troops try to cross that bridge, it’s up to you to destroy it.”

Tahir’s mouth falls open and he looks up, studying the iron bridge like an architect. “What if you’re not back?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Amari says. “If they catch the others, they could find the sanctuary. We have to protect it no matter the cost.”

Though conflicted, Tahir nods, bowing to show his respect. Kamarū bumps his fist before facing the mountain with a new chant.

“O ?ubú lul1. O ?ubú lul1—”

An emerald glow lights from his fingertips and he presses them against the jagged rock. I inhale a sharp breath as the stone begins to crumble. Kamarū’s magic erodes straight through the mountain.

The Grounder pushes forward until a tunnel begins to emerge, large enough for him to step inside. Amari nudges me and I follow after him, disappearing into the dark.



* * *



EVEN WITH KMARū’S MAGIC, tunneling through the mountain is slow and steady work. Eventually the others lag behind, preferring to walk with longer strides. Despite the temptation to hang back, I find myself drawn to Kamarū’s side. There’s something calming in the way he works. Watching him, I can almost forget about the guards above.

“Do you even need to get inside this temple?” I ask.

Kamarū glances back, thick brows knit in confusion.

“You’ve already mastered so many incantations.” I gesture to his glowing hands, watching as the mountain crumbles like sand.

“My father was our clan elder,” Kamarū explains. “He wanted me to follow in his path. By the time I turned twelve, he’d already been training me for years.”

I smile at the thought, picturing a pint-size Kamarū without the thick white dreads or silver nose ring. It’s easy to imagine him training through long days and cold nights, guided by a father who shared his angular eyes.

“You still remember what he taught you?” I ask. “Even after all this time?”

“After the Raid, practicing these incantations was the only part of him I had left.”

My heart sinks in the echo of his words. In my mind, Kamarū still whispers these incantations, but without the father he loves. Without the magic that was meant to run through his veins.

“He’d be so proud of you.” I shake my head. “He is proud of you.”

Kamarū’s dark brown eyes soften. “I like to think so, too.”

As we walk, I think of the other elders and maji, what their lives might’ve been like before the Raid. Mazeli’s already told me how the monarchy took both his parents away. How his sister Arunima perished from grief.

The Grounder catches me staring and flashes me a smile, one so bright it knocks the wind from my chest. For the first time I realize that I could lose him, too.

“Does it scare you?” I whisper to Kamarū. “Being responsible for so many?”

“Every day.” He nods. “But that terror pushes me to be stronger.”

I smile at his resolve, wishing I felt the same. But once we have these scrolls, I can teach my Reapers to defend themselves. I can teach them how to attack.

I tighten my grip on my staff, picturing Inan’s face. Maybe when he and his wretched mother are dead, the maji can all feel free.

“We’re here,” Kamarū announces.

Amari pushes her way to the front as the final bits of gravel fall away. They reveal a metallic stone that can only be the walls of the temple.

My fingers tingle with anticipation as we wait to break through. Amari’s plan may have gotten us this far, but there’s no telling what will happen once we’re actually inside the temple walls.

“Everybody ready?” Amari turns back to the others, and they meet her with terse nods.

She closes her eyes and I can almost feel her prayer.