Page 133 of Children of Virtue and Vengeance

My hands shake beyond my control. I can’t believe all the lives I took.

Inan. Mother.

Those soldiers. Those villagers.

Zélie—

No.

I push away the weight I could never bear. If Zélie were alive, she would’ve returned with Nâo. The monarchy killed her with their explosions.

Zélie’s sacrifice allowed us to win the war.

That is the story we shall tell.

But as I approach Ibadan’s borders, stories aren’t enough. Even from afar, I see the blackened corpses that lie in the streets. Corpses that lie there because of me.

I picture Inan and Mother among the dead.

I picture my best friend.

Strike, Amari.

Father’s voice fills my mind as the tears fill my eyes. Though I breathe, my chest stays tight. It feels like I’m being buried alive.

“Orïsha waits for no one,” I whisper the words. “Orïsha waits for no one.”

I will the words to be true as I ride through Ibadan’s gate.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN

ZÉLIE

WHEN MY EYESflutter open, I don’t know where I am. It feels like I’m suspended in darkness. A light circles above my head.

The rough cords of a rope are wrapped around my chest before I’m pulled toward the light. The infant still screams against my neck.

“Pull her over the edge,” a weathered voice instructs.

Firm hands latch onto my arms, pulling me over the side of the well. I shield my eyes as someone takes the baby from my hands and another bends to unwrap the soaked bandage from my bleeding shin.

“Allow me.” I blink at the older woman who kneels by my side. She takes the white gele around her gray curls, using it to re-bandage my leg.

“You saved us.” She shakes her head. “I can’t thank you enough.”

I close my eyes, trying to think past the pain. My mind throbs with a vengeance. I can’t feel my legs. But the memories start to piece themselves together, bringing me to the well we used to escape. The shadows I channeled before everything went black.

“Roën.” I clutch my chest, straining to feel him. His heart still echoes through me, but it grows weaker by the second.

“They’re tending to him. They’re doing the best they can.” She points and I follow her hand to a pyramid ahérébeyond the well. Its stone doorsare thrown wide open, revealing the village Healers and kosidán who huddle around his wounded form.

“I have to go.” I bat her away, struggling to rise to my feet. I can feel his life within me, but his pulse is still too weak. The pressure is already building in my chest. The same crushing weight that hit before Mâzeli’s death.

I don’t know how long I can sustain the connection before his dying body kills us both.

“Zélie, please.” The woman holds me down, forcing a cup of fresh water down my throat. She clicks her tongue. “Just as stubborn as your mother.”

“You knew Jumoke?”

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