Children of Virtue and Vengeance (Legacy of Orïsha #2)(66)

“Yí padà láti owó mi!”

A lavender cloud erupts from his back, engulfing him as he falls. He screams with delight as the cloud begins to solidify, forming wings around his arms.

“I’m doing it!” Mazeli stretches out his hands in triumph as he nears the landing at the waterfall’s bank. But right as he’s about land, the cloud disappears. He claws at the air before hitting the water with a loud splash.

“Dammit!” Mazeli breaks through the surface, glaring at all who laugh. He slaps the water with his hands. “I don’t understand. There were wings that time, I saw them!”

“More like feathers than wings!” Mári calls out as she glides down on shadows from the ledge above him, a triumphant smile on her young face. She wields her shadows with a particular finesse, practically floating to the ground.

“Mári, hush.” Zélie walks into the water, beckoning for her Reapers to follow after her. “You’re close, Mazeli, but your ojiji are still too soft. Your shadows are light because the spirits are struggling to keep form.”

I watch from my perch on the ledge above as the three Reapers form a circle around Zélie despite the setting sun. The two of us wear the same collar, but Zélie’s seems to fit like a second skin. With the way her golden tattoos shimmer beneath the rippling water, I am far from the only person who stares. What I wouldn’t give to have just one maji look at me that way.

“Amari!” Zélie catches my eye, waving at me from below. I force a smile as she sends her Reapers ahead. “How’d today’s training go?”

“Better,” I lie. “But I need your help. I was thinking of teaching this incantation tomorrow. Could you help me with the words?”

I walk down to the bottom of the ledge and hand Zélie the scroll when she exits the water, but her smile fades as she reads the sênbaría. “You want to teach them about the dreamscapes?”

“You say it like you’ve heard of that before.”

“I have.” Her gaze grows distant. I’m surprised at the way her face softens. “Your brother took me into one a few times. I never knew if it existed in his mind or mine.”

“How did he get you there?” I lean in. “Could you summon it as well?”

Zélie starts to answer my question, but stops, pulling the scroll to her chest. “Why this incantation? What use will it be when we march on Lagos?”

My ears heat as I scramble for a lie.

“For gods’ sakes.” Zélie shakes her head. “Tell me you’re not this stupid!”

“How is it stupid to want to contact my brother?” I ask. “To explore the possibility of peace? I know you hate him, but Inan saved your life—”

“It’s what he does,” Zélie snarls. “He’ll do the right thing when it’s easy, but when it matters most, he’ll stab you in the back! You can’t trust him, Amari. All he leaves us with are scars!”

“Is this because you don’t trust him, or because you don’t want to be honest with yourself?”

Zélie’s eyes flash and she stiffens. “You’d better choose your words with care.”

“You keep pretending all you want is to kill my brother, but I saw the way you two looked at each other at Chandomblé. I know there’s more in your heart than rage!” I point at her chest. “If you want to lie to yourself about how you really feel, fine. But if you damn us to this warpath, you’re putting innocent lives on the line!”

I reach for the incantation, but Zélie pushes me back. As I stumble, she throws the scroll in the natural baths, stomping it out with her foot.

“Stop!” I scream, running into the water. I try to rip the scroll from her foot, but I only rip it in half. Ancient ink bleeds into the water as I fumble with the fraying parchment. My hands shake as I look back up at her. “What’s wrong with you? That incantation could’ve ended this war!”

“You said it yourself,” Zélie pants, walking back to the bank. “In the hands of an enemy, those scrolls are a weapon. Don’t try to communicate with your brother again.”

Blue wisps of magic spark at my fingertips, burning my skin. How dare she do this to me? How dare she give me a command?

“I’m starting to think the reason you don’t want peace is because you’re getting used to the idea of taking my throne,” I spit.

Zélie stops in her tracks. The muscles tense in her back. I watch as her fingers clench, but she doesn’t turn around.

“Get back to training,” she says through her teeth. “I don’t want to hear about this again.”

She steps onto the stone bridge, abandoning me for the second mountain. I don’t understand why she can’t see beyond her rage. Why don’t any of the Iyika realize this is what’s best?

My throat closes up as I reach down, attempting to salvage the soaked pieces of the scroll.

“Do you need a hand, Elder Amari?”

I look to the bank—Mama Agba greets me with a sad smile on her face. The tears I try to fight threaten to break free, so I stare at the rippling water until they disappear.

“Why is everyone fighting against me?” I shake my head.