Children of Virtue and Vengeance (Legacy of Orïsha #2)(6)

“Do you think they’ll be better off across the sea?” I ask.

“I doubt it,” Ro?n says. “It hardly matters where you are if you’re weak.”

The pit of guilt in my stomach hardens, squashing my fantasy. But that same pit turns to a flutter when Ro?n slides a hand around my waist.

“Besides, what soul could be better off that far away from me?”

“You have three seconds before I cut off your arm.”

“Three whole seconds?” Ro?n smiles as the cart swings to a stop. It brings us to the highest ledge, opening up into a modest cave. I hug myself as I step inside, taking in the sculpted rock formations that create a table and chair. A few panthenaire furs make up his bed. I didn’t think his home would be so bare.

“This is it?”

“What, you were expecting a palace?” Ro?n walks over to the only real furniture he has, a marble wardrobe filled with different weapons and blades. He removes a pair of brass knuckles from his pocket and lays them down on a rack. Blood still stains the polished rings.

I try not to picture the face Ro?n used them on as I search for the right words to make him give us what we need. I don’t want to be alone with him for too long. Despite Ro?n’s advances, I trust myself less than I trust him.

“We appreciate all you’ve done,” I say. “The patience you’ve had with us—”

“Please tell me Amari fed you better lines than that.” Ro?n starts to sit in his chair, but winces, reaching behind his neck. He pulls his shirt over his head and my face warms at the sight of his sculpted muscles, crisscrossed with new and old scars. But then I spot the gash below his shoulder.

I grab a stained rag from the floor, taking my chance to get close. Ro?n’s eyes narrow when I wring it out in a bucket of rainwater before wiping off his wound.

“You’re sweet, Z?tsōl. But I’m not in the business of favors.”

“This isn’t a favor,” I say. “Help us with the rally, and you’ll make double what you already have.”

“Enlighten me.” Ro?n tilts his head. “What is double of nothing?”

“If the ritual had gone as planned, Amari would be sitting on the throne. You’d already have your gold.”

Baba would be alive.

I chase away the thought before it can haunt me again. Thinking of what could’ve been won’t help me convince Ro?n to say yes.

“Z?tsōl, charming as I may be, you don’t want men like me or Harun by your side. You definitely don’t want to be in our debt.”

“If Amari doesn’t make her claim to the throne, someone else will seize control.”

“That sounds like her problem.” Ro?n shrugs. “Why do you care?”

“Because…” The right words slip to the tip of my tongue. Because she’s what’s best for this kingdom. She’s the only one who can call off the military’s maji hunt.

But staring at Ro?n, I don’t want to lie.

Somehow, it feels like lying to myself.

“I thought things would be better.” I shake my head. “Magic was supposed to make things better.”

Speaking the truth aloud makes me feel like I might break. The truth makes my heart ache.

“Baba’s death, the t?táns, the hunted maji,” I sigh. “All these people fleeing their homes. It hasn’t even been a moon since the ritual and it feels like magic’s destroyed the entire kingdom. Everything’s worse than it was before.” I wring out the rag, wishing I could turn back time. “Now that it’s here, I don’t want it. I wish I’d never wanted it at all.”

I exhale a shuddering breath and move to wipe away more blood, but Ro?n grabs my wrist, forcing me to look at him. His touch makes my skin hum. This is the first time since that night on the warship that we’ve truly been alone. Back then, we stood beneath the yellow moon, sharing nightmares and scars.

The way Ro?n looks at me now makes my skin crawl, but it also makes me want to draw close. It’s like his stormy eyes pierce through my shell, seeing me for the mess I truly am.

“If you don’t want magic anymore, what do you want?”

His question makes me pause. All I want is the people I’ve lost. But the more I think, the more I remember Mama’s embrace. The warmth of death’s escape.

“I want to be free,” I whisper. “I want to be done.”

“Then be done.” He pulls me in close, studying me as if I’m a knot to be unraveled. “Why ask for my help when you can cut your losses and call this the end?”

“Because if Amari’s not sitting on that throne, it was all for nothing. My father will have died for nothing. And if that happens…” My stomach clenches at the thought. “If that happens, I’ll never be free. Not with that kind of guilt.”

Ro?n stares at me and I can see the objections rising to his tongue. But he seems to hold them between his teeth as I cup his chin, wiping away more blood.

He looks down and I see the tally marks that run up his arm, the worst of all his scars. He once told me that his torturers carved a new line every time they killed a member of his crew before his eyes; twenty-three tally marks for twenty-three lives. Deep down, I think those scars are the reason Ro?n left his homeland. The reason he understands me better than anyone else.