Page 27 of Children of Blood and Bone

I run through the possibilities as I enter the gate and ascend the white marble steps of the palace.Failurewould be fitting. I’m returning with no fugitive in hand. But Father might not waste his words.

He could lead with his fist.

This time, I cannot blame him. Not truly.

If I can’t defend Lagos from a single thief, how in the world am I supposed to become Orïsha’s next king?

Curse the skies.I pause for a moment, gripping the smooth alabaster railing. Today was to be my victory.

Then that silver-eyed wretch got in the way.

The divîner’s face flashes behind my eyes for the tenth time since I watched her fly over Lagos’s gate. The image of her obsidian skin and long white hair stains. Impossible to blink away.

“Captain.”

I ignore the salute of the front guards as I enter the main hall. Thetitle feels like a taunt. A proper captain would’ve sent an arrow through that fugitive’s heart.

“Where’s the prince?” A shrill voice echoes against the palace walls.

Dammit.This is the last thing I need.

Mother pushes toward the castle entrance, gele tilting as she fights through the guards blocking her path. “Whereishe?” she cries. “Where is—Inan?”

Mother’s face softens with relief. Tears spring to her eyes. She leans in close, pressing a hand against the cut on my cheek.

“There were reports of assassins.”

I pull away from Mother and shake my head. Assassins would’ve had clearer targets. They’d be easier to track. The fugitive was just one runaway. One I couldn’t catch.

But Mother does not care about the attackers’ true identity. About my failure. Wasted time. She wrings her hands together, fighting back more tears.

“Inan, we must…” Her voice trails off. It’s only then that she realizes everyone is staring. She straightens her gele and steps back. I can almost see the claws extending from her hands.

“A maggot attacked our city,” she snaps at the assembled crowd. “Do you not have places to be? Go to the market, flush out the slums. Make sure this never happens again!”

Soldiers, nobles, and servants clear the hall at once, tripping over one another in their haste. When they’re gone, Mother grabs my wrist and yanks me toward the throne room doors.

“No.” I’m not prepared for Father’s wrath. “I don’t have any news—”

“And you never will again.”

Mother throws open the large wooden doors and drags me across the tiled floors.

“Leave the room!” she barks. Like mice, the guards and fanners scatter.

The only soul brave enough to defy Mother is Kaea. She looks unusually handsome in the black chest plate of her new uniform.

Admiral?I stare at the decorated seal denoting her elevated rank. There’s no mistaking it. She’s moved up.But what about Ebele?

The harsh smell of spearmint stings my nose as we near the throne. I scan the tiles and sure enough, two distinct patches of fresh blood stain the cracks.

Skies.

Father’s already in a mood.

“That includes you,Admiral,” Mother hisses, folding her arms across her chest.

Kaea’s face tightens; it always does when Mother addresses her with ice. Kaea glances at Father. He gives a reluctant nod.

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