Children of Virtue and Vengeance (Legacy of Orïsha #2)(65)

Tzain dared me to climb a mountaintop and Mama screamed when I leapt from a cliff. Who knows what would’ve happened if she hadn’t conjured the shadows of death that carried me down into one of Ibadan’s ice cold lakes.

A smile comes to my face as I walk to the front of our temple. Just ahead lies the perfect cliff. It juts out over the waterfall baths meters below.

“Pay attention!” I shout before I take off, sprinting for the ledge. The others yell after me as I run. I lift my head to the whipping winds.

A freedom I haven’t felt since I was a girl wraps around me, propelling me on. Magic rises like a wave preparing to crest. With a final step, I leap from the ledge.

“èmí òkú, gba ààyé nínú mi—”

My incantation falls away in the rush of air and I spread out every limb. For a moment, I get to soar.

“Jáde nínú àwon òjìjí re—”

As the water rushes toward me, it’s like I’m six years old again. Baba and Mama are still alive.

No one I love ever has to die.

“Yí padà láti owó mi!”

The final words of the incantation make the air ripple around me. Spirits of the dead explode from my back. The purple auras of the shadows are so dark, they’re almost black.

The shadows writhe through the air like sparks, coming together as my mold takes form. The cold spirits spread across my back and wrap around my arms, creating a glider that cuts through the sky.

Laughter erupts from deep inside me as I soar. For an instant, I rise above all my pain. I feel the freedom I’ve craved.

I soar until I land on the waterfall’s bank with a lurch. The shadows disappear in wisps of smoke. I turn to find every Reaper cheering from the cliff, joined by other maji who observed the feat.

“Alright.” I point up at Mazeli. “Let’s see if you fly or make a splash.”

His face falls as he looks at the water. “But I can’t swim!”

My grin turns mischievous and I shrug.

“Then the greatest Reaper who ever lived better get it right on the first try.”





CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE


AMARI


I BREATHE A sigh of relief when the twinkling dinner chimes ring. After a week of training, I expected the ice to melt between me and the other Connectors, but if anything, it’s only thickened. I lift my chin as the maji stop mid-incantation, gathering their things to make their way down the mountain.

“We start at sunrise tomorrow,” I call at their backs.

No one even turns around.

A sour taste settles on my tongue as I clean up the scrolls, revealing the ceramic tiles that create a Connector baaji on the floor. It doesn’t matter what I do; as long as Ramaya lies in the infirmary, I’m still the enemy. If I wasn’t a cênter, they might even attack me in her name. Every time someone masters another incantation, I half expect them to “slip” and throw it in my direction.

Focus, Amari.

I attempt to shake the stench of disapproval as I close the door to the Connector Temple. I unravel the cobalt scroll in my hand, struggling to piece together the sênbaría transcribed inside.

“èmí ni mò nwá,” I whisper the Yoruba. “Jé kí èmí re ?i sí mi.”

My fingers spark with blue light as I close my eyes, trying to make the incantation come to life. When I first discovered the scroll to create a dreamscape a few days ago, I nearly tossed it aside. I didn’t realize what I held.

I was searching for incantations that would help the Connectors in battle. The ability to create a special plane and meld with someone else’s mind wasn’t something we could use. But as I pondered the incantation, I realized the gods had given me exactly what I needed.

If I can create my own dreamscape, I can make contact with Inan without anyone finding out. We can finally talk without our armies at our backs and evaluate our chances for peace.

“èmí ni mò nwá, jé kí èmí re ?i sí mi,” I repeat. “èmí ni mò nwá, jé kí èmí re ?i sí mi!”

I try to picture the space in my mind, to push my magic through my hands once more. But even in the silence of the Connector Temple, the incantation won’t take. I throw my head back in frustration. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. The other incantations have been difficult to master, but no matter how many times I try to cast this one, it never comes.

Every day that goes by is another day the monarchy could attack. A day the Iyika could decide to march on Lagos. If I’m going to figure this out in time to stop this war, I can’t do it alone.

I need Zélie’s help.

“Skies.” I struggle to swallow as I roll up the scroll. Despite our differences, Zélie’s helped me learn the Yoruba I needed to train the Connectors. By this point, I’ve taken dozens of scrolls to her for assistance.

But if she figures out why I want to learn this one …

I shake my head and exhale as I walk out the temple’s navy door. I just need help with an incantation.

That’s all she needs to know.

“Watch out!”

I throw myself back as Mazeli zips past. His large ears practically flap in the wind. The end of an incantation flies from his lips as he leaps from the nearest cliff.