Children of Virtue and Vengeance (Legacy of Orïsha #2)(92)

But my nails dig into my palms as they disappear from our sight.

I know what I must do if they can’t.





CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT


INAN


AS WE SIT in the pyramid ahéré, my hand shakes around the bronze piece. With every second that ticks by, I feel the weight of the lives that hang in the balance. Mother sits across from me, no sign of all the blood that coats her hands. There’s no trace of guilt on her face. If anything, she holds back a smile.

“Your Majesty, we’ve received word from the palace.” General Fa’izah hands me a rolled parchment. “The Iyika are nearing Lagos’s borders.”

“Are our soldiers in position?” Mother asks.

“Every single one.”

“Good.” She smiles at the officers around the table. When her eyes land on Ojore, the ache erupts in my core. I can’t look away from the burns on his neck. Burns she caused.

I don’t know how she can smile at him. Speak to him. Breathe near him. I haven’t been able to look him in the eye since learning the truth.

I don’t know when I’ll be able to.

“I need some air.” I rise, avoiding Ojore’s gaze as I make my way toward the door.

“Inan, we need to stay in here,” Mother calls after me. “The Iyika could strike at any moment—”

“I’ll be fine,” I cut her off. I don’t give her another chance to respond.

The moment I get outside, I break into a sprint. The mountain breeze chills the sweat on my skin. I wheeze as I try to take it all in. But when I hear the shout of Mother calling after me, I slip into the iron ahéré of Ibadan’s military fortress, locking the door before she can see where I’ve gone.

Distance does nothing to alleviate the weight of her crimes. To erase the blood that my family has spilled. My boots drag against the metal floors as I think of the carnage yet to come. How many people must die to protect a stolen throne? How many of them have to be maji?

I have to stop this.

I shake my head, pacing the empty room. It doesn’t matter if Amari won’t take my concession. I have to end this fight on my own.

I clench my fist as the lock clicks and the door handle groans behind me.

“Mother, it’s over—”

My voice stops at the sight of Ojore in the doorframe. He stares at me with an empty expression.

“I-I thought you were Mother.”

The door groans shut in our silence. He steps forward and the lantern light spills across the burns on his neck. I look away as nausea rises in my throat.

“We need to call off the attack.” I stare at the ground. “I was wrong. This war … we’re taking things too far.”

“Why won’t you look at me?”

The ice in his voice freezes me in place. Hairs rise on the nape of my neck as he takes a step toward me.

“You don’t have to feel bad, you know,” his voice drops to a whisper. “Your mother clearly doesn’t, and she’s known the truth for years.”

A rock settles in my throat as I look up. Ojore’s lips curl back into a sinister snarl. I don’t recognize the person who stands before me. It’s as if the Ojore I know is no longer there.

“I couldn’t stay here when the fight was in Lagos,” he says. “I couldn’t leave my soldiers to finish this war themselves. I was coming to tell you. I didn’t expect to walk in on you and your mother celebrating the death of my family.”

The tears trapped in his throat are more painful than Father’s sword to the gut. I don’t know what to say. The color drains from my face.

“It was wrong.” I shake my head. “She was wrong. That’s why I’m calling this off. Th-that’s why I want to end this war!”

But as Ojore stares into the distance, I feel my words bouncing off deaf ears. “Do you know the things I’ve done for your family?” Tears well in his eyes. “The maji I’ve killed?”

“I know…” I put a hand on his shoulder. “Believe me, I know.”

Zélie’s face fills my mind and I picture the life she could’ve had. The life she should have had. If things were different, she might still live in these mountains with her family. The Raid never would’ve broken her home. She wouldn’t have made the mistake of trusting me. She wouldn’t have the scars on her back.

“All these years, I thought the maji were the enemy,” Ojore says. “I blamed them. I hated them. And it was her all along!”

His voice turns dark and something shifts behind his eyes. He straightens up, hatred transformed to a new resolution. My blood runs cold when he removes his sword.

“I’ll kill her,” he whispers under his breath. “I’ll kill her before she kills anyone else.”

“Ojore, wait.” I hold up my hands, positioning myself between him and the door. “Mother will answer for her crimes, I promise. But right now there are lives at stake.”

“Move.”

My throat dries as he raises his sword to my neck.

“Move,” he growls. “Or I’ll make you move!”

I stare at the sword in his hand before looking at him. There’s no waver in his stance. No sign that he’ll give me a chance.