Page 140 of Children of Blood and Bone

“Ugh,” I choke in disgust. “Keep facts like that to yourself or I won’t be able to stomach this.”

“Forgive me.” Inan tests the weight of the coin in his palm. “And thank you.”

“Thank me by making this work. When was the last time you really let your magic flow?”

With the bronze piece passing between his fingers, Inan begins to think. “That temple.”

“Chândomblé?”

He nods. “It amplified my abilities. When I was trying to find you,I sat under a painting of Orí and… I don’t know. It was the first time I felt like there was something I could control.”

The dreamscape.I think back to the last time we were there, wondering what I must’ve said. Did I give something away?

“How does it work?” I ask. “There are times when it feels like you’re reading a book inside my head.”

“More like a puzzle than a book,” Inan corrects me. “It’s not always clear, but when your thoughts and emotions are intense, I feel them, too.”

“You get that with everyone?”

He shakes his head. “Not to the same degree. Everyone else feels like being caught in the rain. You’re the whole tsunami.”

I freeze at the power of his words, trying to imagine what that would be like. The fear. The pain. The memories of Mama being ripped away.

“Sounds awful,” I whisper.

“Not always.” He stares at me like he can see straight into my heart, straight into everything I am. “There are times when it’s amazing. Beautiful, even.”

My heart swells in my chest. A coil of hair falls in front of my face, and Inan tucks it behind my ear. Goosebumps prickle down my neck when his fingers brush my skin.

I clear my throat and look away, ignoring the thumping inside my head. I don’t know what’s going on, but I know I can’t allow myself to feel like this.

“Your magic is strong.” I push the focus back. “Believe it or not, it comes naturally to you. You channel things instinctively that most maji would need a powerful incantation to do.”

“How can I control it?” Inan asks. “What do I do?”

“Close your eyes,” I instruct. “Repeat after me. I don’t know Connector incantations, but I do know how to ask for help from the gods.”

Inan closes his eyes and grips the bronze piece tight.

“It’s simple—Orí, bámi s0r0.”

“Ba me sorro?”

“Bámi s0r0.” I correct his pronunciation with a smile. It’s endearing how clumsy Yoruba sounds on his lips. “Repeat it. Picture Orí. Open yourself up and ask for his help. That’s what being a maji is about. With the gods on your side, you’re never truly alone.”

Inan looks down. “They’re really always there?”

“Always.” I think back to all those years I turned my back on them. “Even in the darkest times the gods are always there. Whether we acknowledge them or not, they always have a plan.”

Inan’s hand closes over the bronze piece, face turning pensive.

“Alright.” He nods. “I want to try.”

“Orí, bámi s0r0.”

“Orí, bámi s0r0,” he chants under his breath, fingers twisting around the bronze piece. At first nothing happens, but as he continues, the air begins to heat. A soft blue glow appears in his hands. The light creeps its way over to me.

I close my eyes as the world spins away, a hot rush, just like the other day. When the spinning ends, I’m back in the dreamscape.

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