Page 79 of Children of Virtue and Vengeance

“Is there anything else I can help you with, my queen?”

My smile widens as he leans in. My heart speeds up in my chest as I dig my nails into his neck.

Our lips meet, and the rush is so strong it spreads through my entire body. A flutter erupts between my legs as I shift, pressing into him—

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Our heads snap apart to face Jahi. My cheeks flush at the Winder’s glare. I force Tzain to put me down.

“We have work to do.” Jahi gestures to the line of elders making their way to the council room, and I groan.

“Can’t we sleep?”

“Don’t complain now,” he says. “You’re the one who wanted this job.”

My shoulders slump and I turn to Tzain, wrapping my arms around him again. I feel his chest deflate as he slides his hands across my back.

“Another time?” I ask.

“Do what you need to do.” His lips meet mine once more and I sink into the safety of his kiss. He squeezes my waist, sending shivers along my skin.

As I pull away, I wish I never had to leave his embrace. But Orïsha waits for no one. Not even him.

Jahi eyes me when I pass, but I ignore his glare.

“Wake Mama Agba,” I order. “If anyone can get us answers, it’s her.”

NO ONE SPEAKSas Mama Agba studies the golden script along Zélie’s skin. My shoulders burn from holding up the blanket that shields Zélie’s scars and bare back from the other elders. Mama Agba pauses to scribble more sênbaría translations onto a brown parchment, the scratch of her reed brush echoing against the stained glass windows of the council room. A full hour passes before Mama Agba sets her brush down, ready to share what she’s uncovered.

“I haven’t seen markings like these since I studied with the sêntaros,” she says. “The tattoos are the mark of the moonstone, a sister to the sunstone you retrieved from Ibeji.”

“But the sunstone was destroyed in the ritual.” Zélie tilts her head. “It shattered in my hands after I used it to bring our magic back.”

“Unlike its sister stone, the moonstone is not one you can hold,” Mama Agba explains. “It is a power bestowed by the gods. They must have granted it to you during the solstice.”

Mama Agba waits as Zélie slips into a sleeveless kaftan, its deep purple fabric shimmering like wine against her complexion. When dressed, Zélie takes her place at the table, sitting in front of a bronze statue with amethyst crystals for eyes.

“The moonstone ignites by command,” Mama Agba continues. “Few can summon its power.” She rests her weathered fingers along Zélie’s sternum before reciting the sacred words. “? t?nná agbára yin.”

Zélie inhales a sharp breath as the tattoos ignite along her skin. The delicate lines glow with golden light, so strong it shines through the wine-colored kaftan. Though not as bright as their shine in the scroll room, the sight still steals my words. Zélie looks like a goddess, bathing us in her golden glow.

“The moonstone has the ability to bind the lifeforces inside all of us,” Mama Agba explains. “If you were granted this ability during the sacred ritual, it would explain the origin of Amari and Nehanda’s abilities. It may be possible to use the moonstone to make more cênters like them.”

“Wait, what?” I lean forward, mouth falling slack. More cênters would give us more power. We would have more leverage to negotiate the end of this war. “Would they be as strong as my mother?”

“The power might not exhibit itself the same way, but any maji who could hold that much ashêin her body would be able to perform great feats.” Mama Agba nods. “A Tider could generate a tsunami with justa wave of her hands. A Seer in her prime might be able to see through any point in time. But pursuing great power requires great sacrifice.” Mama Agba pauses, eyes settling on me. “You and your mother are cênters now, but didn’t you have to sacrifice someone you love?”

My throat dries and I avert my gaze, back burning with the memories. “In a way,” I say. “I killed my father on the ritual grounds.”

Mama Agba exhales a deep breath and purses her lips. She removes her hand from Zélie’s chest, and without her touch, the golden glow of the moonstone’s tattoos dies.

“If you wish to create another cênter, you must be willing to make such a sacrifice,” Mama Agba says. “A loss of that magnitude is the only thing that can come close to the power used to create the cênters during the solstice.”

“What if I could find another way?” Zélie asks. “Use the moonstone to bind our lifeforces without killing someone we love?”

“Even if you could, the connection would not last,” Mama Agba shakes her head. “A power that volatile would consume anyone it touched, and binding yourself to someone’s lifeforce means binding yourself to their death.” Mama Agba’s eyes hang on Zélie as she grabs her staff and rises from her seat. “You are the elders now. It is not my place to tell you what to do. But you should know that there are weapons so great, they shouldn’t be used.”

A heavy silence hangs over us as Mama Agba exits the council room. Around the table, everyone seems to weigh her words; the cost of what it would take to become a cênter.

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