Children of Virtue and Vengeance (Legacy of Orïsha #2)(57)

My skin starts to burn as my fingers spark with dark blue light. I grit my teeth as my magic swirls.

“Just a little more,” she pushes me. “Open your hands.”

I stretch out my fingers and gasp.

Wisps of blue ashê drift through the glassy walls.

“By the skies…” I step back, staring at the magic that drifts into my hands. It nips at my skin, but the pain is warm. It almost feels good.

“That should be impossible,” Kamarū breathes. “For any maji or t?tán!”

“They’re not t?táns,” Zélie says. “Oya tried to show me in my ìsípayá. They can absorb the powers of t?táns who share their magic type. They’re more like cênters.” She creates the term.

“Skies,” I curse, realizing the implication behind her words. “If I’m like my mother…”

“Exactly.” Zélie nods. “With enough Connector t?táns, you could dominate her the way you overpowered Ramaya!”

I stare at the magic in my hand, flickering around my skin like a blaze. I didn’t know how I would defeat Mother. What leverage I could use to end this war. But with this ability, I see the path to victory. The path to the throne. I never needed an army or the maji.

I only needed my own gift.

I close my fist and look back at the wall, imagining the army on the other side. I attempt to visualize their next move, picture how to counter their strikes.

“Can you open the wall again?” I ask Zélie, and she nods. “Then everyone, keep gathering scrolls. I have a new plan.”



* * *



“EVERYBODY READY?” I call, and the others respond with tense nods. Zélie takes her place at the wall as we make the final arrangements. Kenyon positions himself on the other side of her.

You’re getting out of here. I exhale, clenching and unclenching my fists. You don’t have a choice. You finally have the power to end this war.

Jahi grunts as he pushes the last shelf against the far wall, creating our barricade. I join him in the narrow gap, holding my breath as I wait for Zélie to open the wall.

“I may have misjudged you,” Jahi says. “You’re not half bad.”

“Let’s see how you feel when we make it across that bridge.”

I crawl forward and peek out of the triangular space until I can see Zélie’s face. She places her palms flat against the stone wall, almost frozen stiff as she waits for Kenyon’s incantation.

“As soon as that wall opens, you run,” he says. “If you don’t, you’ll burn.”

When Zélie nods, Kenyon holds out his hand. My muscles tense as the incantation flies from his lips.

“ìlànà iná, hun ara r? pèlú mi báàyí—”

I shield my eyes as two streams of scalding fire shoot from his palms. They intertwine like ribbons, wrapping around themselves until they form a sphere at Zélie’s back.

The air sears as the blaze grows, the ball of fire hanging in the air like a sun. As black spots form along its surface I shout.

“Open the wall!”

Zélie closes her eyes. The tattoos on her neck flicker as they light up. I hold my breath as the golden glow spreads to her fingertips before cutting through the metallic stone.

She dives for an iron case as the invisible seam splits down the wall’s center. With a crack, the entrance erupts. Soldiers’ shouts bleed in from the hall.

“Take them in!”

The general’s shouts are muffled under a blast of howling wind. My hair ruffles as the gust builds, two cyclones of air shooting down the hall.

Time slows as the cannons of air speed toward Kenyon’s growing blaze.

My hands fly to my ears as the cyclones meet the flames.





CHAPTER FORTY


INAN


EVEN FROM THE END of the hall, the explosion rattles me to my core.

Unbearable heat sears my skin.

Black smoke fills the air.

“Jok?ye!” I cough through the smoke and charred pieces of parchment that fly through the air. But Ojore drags me back. My eyes sting as he pulls me away from the fight.

“Don’t let them escape!” Mother points at the seven figures who charge through the black clouds. As the smoke clears, I see the blanket of bodies on the floor. Jok?ye lies unconscious, leg twisted in half.

Mother runs forward, igniting the emerald glow in her chest. But Amari doesn’t back down. My eyes widen when a navy light flickers to life behind her ribs.

Magic swirls around Amari’s body like a typhoon, spreading through every limb.

“Ya èmí, ya ara!” she screams.

Blue light radiates from her hands in waves, pushing through the soldiers in her way.

Mother cries out, arching backward in pain. She grabs her head as she falls to the floor. Her golden mask skitters across the stone.

My chest clenches as Amari raises her hand to me, but when we lock eyes, she doesn’t strike. Even as our armies collide, I see my sister. I see my blood.

“Amari!” My steps falter as I try to slow, but Ojore drags me around the corner. I struggle to stay upright as he pushes me up a flight of stairs. We race down a long hall, my pulse spiking as the rumble of the Iyika grows near.