Page 21 of Children of Anguish and Anarchy

When I close my eyes, a new vision fills my mind. I see rectangular runes carved into my skin. Wiry women wearing horned animal skulls surround me. A giant moon burns red in the sky.…

“Strike, Zélie.” Mama Agba’s whispers return. Her voice breaks through the swelling storm. I feel the echo of her wrinkled hands press over my own, reminding me I’m not alone.

I fight past the part of me that yearns to break. The way every breath I take aches.

Think of the others, I push myself.Think of Tzain!

In the back of the room, the Silver Skull rises. His shoulders seem to slump with relief. He lifts his mask and returns to the table with another pitcher of mead. He drinks straight from the rim, taking generous swigs.

With his back to me, I force myself up, rising to my unsteady feet. Baldyr’s wolf pelt falls to the floor. Blood stains the white fur red.

I grip the chain between my shackles, preparing for war.For the maji.I brace myself against the marble wall.For every girl this medallion has burned.

I won’t let him drain my people of their blood.

I won’t allow the Skulls to get away with what they have done.

“Die!” I launch myself forward, yanking my chain tight around the Silver Skull’s throat. The brass pitcher drops from his hand and mead spills across our feet. I have to hold tight as the Silver Skull slips.

I brace myself against his back and pull. The foreign chants keep ringing in my ears. The ancient medallion warms in my chest. It stings as I fight to kill.

The Silver Skull releases a strangled shout and charges backward. The wooden table falls to the floor in his surge. The captain drives my body into the wall. The copper taste of blood fills my mouth as I fight to hold on.

He rams me again and again, and my hold finally loosens. He rips the shackles from his throat, and I collapse to the floor.

“You are not to be harmed!” he shouts in his tongue, but I don’t listen. My fingers close around a broken shard of glass. Its sharp edges cut into my hand.

With a roar, I dive forward, slashing the glass across the Silver Skull’s leg. The Silver Skull curses as I bring him to his knees. I try to strike again, but the Silver Skull grabs me by the neck.

Blood shines through his teeth. It drips from the gashes in his neck. The Silver Skull squeezes my throat as I wheeze for air. The glass shard falls from my hand while I choke.

The Silver Skull throws me into the wall of weapons. Swords andmachetes clatter to the ground. Mama Agba’s face fills my blurry vision as my staff rolls across the floor.

“Come on, Zélie,” her spirit urges me. I drag myself across the bloodstained marble. The Silver Skull barrels toward me, and I catch the glint of a chain.

I don’t know if I have the strength to fight him off again.

“You are close, my child.” Mama Agba speaks to me. “You are almost there.”

My fingers wrap around the crossed swords etched into my staff. I press the button that extends its serrated blades.

The Silver Skull grabs me as I whip around, shoving the blade into his gut.

Finally.

My arms shake. The Silver Skull is stopped in his tracks. The iron chains fall from his hands. Blood drips from beneath his mask.

My serrated blades dig beneath the Silver Skull’s rib cage, impaling him like a hyenaire. The Silver Skull curses at me before stumbling back. He takes my staff with him as he falls to the floor.

Though my bones feel like they might break, I force myself to my feet. I push my shaking legs and limp, dragging myself forward until I stand over the captain.

I stare at the man who’s stuck my people in cages. The man who’s thrown my people to the seas. I watch how he strains for breath. How he shakes.

How he bleeds.

“He will find you,” the Silver Skull croaks at me. “There is no place you can run.”

I grab my staff and wrench it free. The Silver Skull groans with pain. His unsteady gaze follows me as I reposition the blade above his chest.

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