Children of Virtue and Vengeance (Legacy of Orïsha #2)(61)

Zélie inhales a sharp breath as the tattoos ignite along her skin. The delicate lines glow with golden light, so strong it shines through the wine-colored kaftan. Though not as bright as their shine in the scroll room, the sight still steals my words. Zélie looks like a goddess, bathing us in her golden glow.

“The moonstone has the ability to bind the lifeforces inside all of us,” Mama Agba explains. “If you were granted this ability during the sacred ritual, it would explain the origin of Amari and Nehanda’s abilities. It may be possible to use the moonstone to make more cênters like them.”

“Wait, what?” I lean forward, mouth falling slack. More cênters would give us more power. We would have more leverage to negotiate the end of this war. “Would they be as strong as my mother?”

“The power might not exhibit itself the same way, but any maji who could hold that much ashê in her body would be able to perform great feats.” Mama Agba nods. “A Tider could generate a tsunami with just a wave of her hands. A Seer in her prime might be able to see through any point in time. But pursuing great power requires great sacrifice.” Mama Agba pauses, eyes settling on me. “You and your mother are cênters now, but didn’t you have to sacrifice someone you love?”

My throat dries and I avert my gaze, back burning with the memories. “In a way,” I say. “I killed my father on the ritual grounds.”

Mama Agba exhales a deep breath and purses her lips. She removes her hand from Zélie’s chest, and without her touch, the golden glow of the moonstone’s tattoos dies.

“If you wish to create another cênter, you must be willing to make such a sacrifice,” Mama Agba says. “A loss of that magnitude is the only thing that can come close to the power used to create the cênters during the solstice.”

“What if I could find another way?” Zélie asks. “Use the moonstone to bind our lifeforces without killing someone we love?”

“Even if you could, the connection would not last,” Mama Agba shakes her head. “A power that volatile would consume anyone it touched, and binding yourself to someone’s lifeforce means binding yourself to their death.” Mama Agba’s eyes hang on Zélie as she grabs her staff and rises from her seat. “You are the elders now. It is not my place to tell you what to do. But you should know that there are weapons so great, they shouldn’t be used.”

A heavy silence hangs over us as Mama Agba exits the council room. Around the table, everyone seems to weigh her words; the cost of what it would take to become a cênter.

But in her explanation, I see our answer; our leverage; our peace. We have the power to win this war without losing one more soul. We can create the Or?sha we want to see.

“We went to Chandomblé to gain power over Nehanda, and now we have it,” I address the room. “We could build an entire army with cênters as strong as my mother. With a threat like that, the monarchy would have no choice but to concede to us.” I rise from my seat, picturing my brother’s face when I tell him the power at our disposal. “Allow me to go to Lagos and meet with Inan. I know I can negotiate peace on our terms.”

“Your terms,” Kenyon scoffs. “Not ours. Our future isn’t certain until we have a maji on the throne. No one in the palace will agree to that.” Kenyon stands up, slapping his palms against the table. “With Zélie’s ability, we have the power we need. Now it’s time to use it and take Lagos down for good.”

“Idiot.” Nao smacks her lips. “We’d have to sacrifice someone we love.”

“Lives will be lost no matter what approach we take,” Kenyon pushes. “At least this way sacrifices won’t be made in vain.”

“I refuse to spill maji blood.” Kamarū’s voice shakes with a quiet rage. “If we can’t win this war as maji, then we deserve to lose.”

One by one, heads drift to Zélie, looking to her for the final say. I lock eyes with her as we wait, but she avoids my gaze.

“All I’m asking for is a chance to find out if peace is a viable option.” I rise from my seat, kneeling before Zélie. “I know you heard Inan when he told his soldiers not to attack. For skies’ sake, he risked his life so you and Mazeli could escape!”

Her muscles tense as I grab her hand, but I don’t back down.

“He still cares for you,” I lower my voice. “I know you care, too—”

“No.” She rips her hand away, balling her fingers into a fist. “We can’t trust him. We can’t trust any of them.”

“Zélie—”

“I only asked for one thing when I joined this fight,” she cuts me off. “All I wanted was to end Inan.”

“He’s my blood.” I narrow my eyes. “You know I could never agree to that.”

“Well this is my blood.” Zélie gestures around the stone table. “The maji won’t be safe until your brother’s gone.”

Her words cut deeper than she could know. It was only a few moons ago when she grabbed my hand and claimed me as her family. She claimed me as her blood.

“If you won’t spare his life, then I won’t fight for you.” I cross my arms. “You need me on your side. I’m the only cênter you have.”