Page 18 of Children of Blood and Bone

I step toward it, legs throbbing as if approaching the edge of a cliff.I expect to feel some aura in the scroll’s presence, yet the air surrounding it remains dead. I reach out, but pause, swallowing the fear that begins to swell. I see the light that exploded from Binta’s hands.

The sword that pierced through her chest.

I push myself, reaching out again with the very ends of my fingertips. When they brush the scroll, I close my eyes.

No magic comes forth.

The breath I did not realize I was holding rushes out as I pick up the wrinkled parchment. I unroll the scroll and trace the strange symbols, trying in vain to make sense of them. The symbols look like nothing I have ever seen, no language ever covered in my studies. Yet they are symbols that maji died for.

Symbols that might as well be written in Binta’s blood.

A breeze flutters from the open windows, stirring the locks of hair that have fallen out from my loosened gele. Underneath the flowing curtains, Kaea’s military supplies sit: sharpened swords, panthenaire reins, brass chest plates. My eyes settle on the spools of rope. I knock my gele to the floor.

Without thinking, I grab Father’s cloak.

CHAPTER FOUR

ZÉLIE

“ARE YOU REALLY NOTgoing to talk to me?”

I lean to the side of Nailah’s saddle to get a look at Tzain’s stone face. I expected the first hour of silence, but now it’s hour three.

“How was practice?” I try instead. Tzain can never resist a conversation about his favorite sport. “Is M’ballu’s ankle okay? Do you think she’ll be healed in time for the games?”

Tzain’s mouth opens for a split second, but he catches himself. His jaw clamps shut and he smacks Nailah’s reins, riding her faster through the towering jackalberry trees.

“Tzain, come on,” I say. “You can’t ignore me for the rest of your life.”

“I can try.”

“My gods.” I roll my eyes. “What do you want from me?”

“How about an apology?” Tzain snaps. “Baba almost died! And now you want to sit here and pretend like it never happened?”

“I already said sorry,” I snap back. “To you, to Baba.”

“That doesn’t change what happened.”

“Then I’m sorry I can’t change the past!”

My yell echoes through the trees, igniting a new stretch of silence between us. I run my fingers along the cracks of worn leather in Nailah’s saddle as an uncomfortable pit forms in my chest.

For gods’ sakes, think, Zélie, Mama Agba’s voice echoes in my mind.Who would protect your father if you hurt those men? Who would keep Tzain safe when the guards come for blood?

“Tzain, I’m sorry,” I say quietly. “Really. I feel awful, more than you can know, but—”

Tzain releases a sigh of exasperation. “Of course there’s a but.”

“Because this isn’t just my fault!” I say, my anger reaching a boiling point. “The guards are the reason Baba went out on the water!”

“And you’re the reason he almost drowned,” Tzain shoots back. “Youleft him alone.”

I bite my tongue. There’s no point in arguing. Strong and handsome kosidán that he is, Tzain doesn’t understand why I need Mama Agba’s training. Boys in Ilorin try to be his friend, girls try to steal his heart. Even the guards flock his way, singing praises of his agbön skills.

He doesn’t understand what it’s like to be me, to walk around in a divîner’s skin. To jump every time a guard appears, never knowing how a confrontation will end.

I’ll start with this one.…

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