Page 198 of Children of Blood and Bone

“My gods,” Kenyon breathes as we step into the stale air.

“My gods” is right.

It’s like walking into the heavens.

With each stride, I feel mighty under the gods’ watch, protected under their ethereal gaze.

“You can do this.” Amari hands me the parchment and the sunstone. She takes the bone dagger from Tzain and slips it into the waist of my uniform.

I nod and take the two sacred objects.You can do this, I repeat.Just try.

I step forward, prepared to bring this journey to an end. But then a figure moves in the distance.

“Ambush!” I cry out.

I flick open my staff as hidden men emerge. They move like shadows, crawling out from behind every statue, every pillar. In the frenzy we all bare our blades, eyes darting to find the next attack. But when the blurs settle, I see Saran, a smirk of satisfaction on his face. Then I see Inan, face pained, majacite blade in his hand.

The sight rips straight through me; a betrayal colder than ice. He promised.

He swore he wouldn’t get in my way.

But before I can truly break, I see the worst of it. A sight so alarming, it doesn’t even seem real.

My heart stops as they bring him forward.

“Baba?”

CHAPTER SEVENTY-NINE

ZÉLIE

HE’S SUPPOSED TO BE SAFE.

This one thought keeps me from accepting the truth. I scan the guards for Mama Agba’s wrinkled form, waiting for her attack. If Baba’s with the guards, where is she? What did they do to her? After everything, she can’t be dead. Baba can’t be standing here.

Yet he trembles under Inan’s grip… ripped clothes, gagged, bloodied face. They’ve beaten him for my mistakes. And now they’ll take him.

Just like they took Mama.

Inan’s amber eyes trap me in the truth of his betrayal, but it isn’t the gaze I know. He’s a stranger. A soldier. The shell of the little prince.

“I assume the situation speaks for itself, but since your people are daft, I’ll break it down. Relinquish the artifacts, and you can take your father back.”

Just the sound of Saran’s voice closes the metal chains against my wrists—

I wouldn’t be doing my job as king if I didn’t remind you what you are.

He stands clothed in rich purple robes, defiance in his snarl. But even he looks small against the statues of gods staring him down.

“We can take ’em,” Kenyon whispers from behind. “We have our magic. They only have guards.”

“We can’t risk it.” Tzain’s voice cracks.

Baba gives the slightest shake of his head. He doesn’t want to be saved.

No.

I step forward but Kenyon grips my arm, whipping me around. “You can’t surrender!”

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