Children of Virtue and Vengeance (Legacy of Orïsha #2)(69)

“She taught me that there are more sides to every story,” I say. “She made me want to be a better king.”

Ojore and I lock eyes and I feel the growing distance between us. Staring at the scars on his neck, I know he won’t understand. He wasn’t taught to fear the maji like me. They burned him themselves.

He presses a fist to his lips as we stare at the war-room map. But as we sit, the low ringing builds in my ears again. I grip the table when the world around me starts to blur.

“I know you’re not your father,” Ojore sighs. “I respect that you’re trying to be a better man. But not everyone can be saved. You have to stop looking at these maji like they’re the ones who need protecting.”

I reach into my pocket and squeeze the bronze piece. “You sound like Mother.”

“Well, like your mother, I have a vested interest in keeping you alive,” he says. “On the battlefield, Amari’s not your sister. This girl isn’t someone you can love.” Ojore rises from his seat and pats me on the back. “They’re your enemies, Inan. They’re the soldiers on the other side of this war. When we face them, blood will spill. Don’t let it be yours.”

He closes the door behind him and I rest my head on the table. I don’t want him to be right, but he speaks the words I’m too afraid to speak myself.

For a moment, I long for the days of being a prince. Before magic. Before the throne. I may not have had power then, but things were simple. Now I fear those days will never return.

Inan …

The voice tickles my ear, louder now that no one else is here. The bronze piece falls from my palms as my fingers go limp. Sleep wraps its hands around me, pulling me into its blackness.

When it hits, a cool breath of magic passes over my skin. The world swirls around me as clouds of white float in.

It feels like I hang suspended in space, feet searching for ground that doesn’t exist. But when I finally find it, I don’t believe my eyes.

An endless field of blue lilies brushes against my skin.





CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN


AMARI


“BROTHER?”

I yearn to say more, but the words don’t come out. I’ve spent so long trying to get to this moment; I didn’t think about what would happen once I was actually here.

With the rough beginnings of a beard around his jaw and the heavy bags under his eyes, my brother looks far older than his nineteen years. If it weren’t for the streak of white running through his unruly curls, I might even think he looked like Father.

“Yours is different.” He blinks at me, a half smile rising to his tired face. His eyes fall closed as he breathes in my dreamscape, tasting the cinnamon-scented air.

He forces me to take in the world around us, the magical space of my creation. A sea of deep blue flowers lie at our feet. A star-filled sky twinkles above.

Though I’ve never set foot in this space, somehow it feels like returning to myself. In here, the air is sweet. The light shines brightly though there isn’t a moon.

Inan bends down, smelling a flower before the half smile falls from his face.

“Did you bring me here to kill me, or do you want to talk?”

He keeps a joke in his tone, but I see the way his fingers tremble. The way he expects everything and everyone to hurt him. He carries the same scars I fight to live above.

My eyes water as I take a step toward him. I break into a run when Inan opens up his arms. I think of how much I’ve missed him. How much I’ve wanted to hold him tight.

Everything that’s passed between us flashes behind my eyes as I run. I see every way we’ve been hurt. Every face that we have lost. Binta. Admiral Kaea. Father. But worst of all, each other.

The moment I place my head against his chest, I don’t know who weeps harder. Me, or him.



* * *



BY THE TIME our tears dry, it’s difficult to tell how long it’s been. Even pain is different in this magical space. It doesn’t hurt to cry.

We settle into soft mounds of dirt, picking at the flowers at our feet. So much passes between us, but none of it needs words.

“Are there flowers in yours?” I ask. Inan shakes his head.

“Just reeds.” He holds a lily in front of his nose, plucking its petals off. “Zélie found a way to make forests and waterfalls, but I don’t know how to do more. I can’t even get back into mine. Every time I try, it feels like someone’s driving an axe into my brain.”

I’m surprised at the smile that rises to his lips. Even after all that’s passed, she brings out a different side of him.

“How is she?”

I roll my eyes and look away. “She’s determined to kill you. Completely blinded by rage.”

“Believe me, I know.” Inan peels up the hem of his shirt, allowing me to see the new scar across his side. “But when she’s not out for my blood, how is she? How does she feel?”

I wrinkle my nose, attempting to see Zélie through another lens. We’ve been at each other’s throats for so long. I miss looking at her as my friend.

“She has her clan now,” I speak slowly. “Not many Reapers, but enough. Taking care of them makes her happy. They actually make her laugh.”

“That’s good.” Inan sinks into the flowers, a softness filling his amber eyes. “She deserves to be happy.”