Page 66 of Children of Anguish and Anarchy

I hold the mask up high, walking it around the circle so everyone can see. One soldier reaches for the mask, and I hand it to her. Her brows furrow as she touches the broken bones.

“An enemy is coming.” I point at the mask. “An enemy is already here. We’ve allowed our once-great nation to be ripped apart by war. While we’ve battled each other, they’ve raided our lands, searching for the power locked inside one maji.”

“Why should we care what happens to the maji?” Mother voices the question that must be on every tîtán’s and soldier’s mind. Behind me, a Burner’s hands light with a flame. I hold up my hand to stop her, pleading with my eyes.

“They won’t stop at the maji.” I turn to the tîtáns. “They intend to rule over us all. Our best chance to stop them is together. Right now, we need each other.”

“We can stop them on our own,” another tîtán shouts. “We can round the maji up ourselves!”

“You threaten us after all we’ve endured?” Nâo pushes forward.

“Better you than us!” a soldier shouts back.

The fragile peace shatters like glass. The armistice devolves before my eyes. All at once, everyone moves to attack. The maji push in from the west. The tîtáns charge from the east.

“Ìpè inú igbó, ? yí mi ká báyìí—”

Tamer-summoned hyenaires surround us on all sides.

“Babalúayé, a ké pè 3 báyìí—”

Clouds of orange gas swirl in the Cancers’ hands.

A trio of purple-clad maji moves to the front.

As they chant, animations rise.

“Hit them!” Mother yells. The ground shakes as she summons her power. Green light surrounds her body like a blaze.

The Orïshan guard takes up arms as everyone runs for the center of the clearing.

“Stop!” A force rises inside me. A wave about to crest. If even onedrop of blood spills, it’s over. The Skulls might as well declare victory over these lands.

“I saidstop!” my voice booms. I shut my eyes and extend my hands. Magic pours out of me like a river. Turquoise clouds flood through the earth, catching every Orïshan like flies in a spiderweb—

Drums beat through the air. A rumble travels beneath our feet. All at once, we turn to the east. Something shakes the remaining trees.

“What is that?” Mother calls. Terror grips me in its arms.

My hands fall to my sides as a wild band of Skulls swarms.

“Run!” I shout.

Three dozen Skulls fill the clearing at once, the scars stark on their swollen chests. Their bronze masks glimmer in the moonlight. Their colossal forms tear across the grounds.

The men roar as they attack, their crimson weapons primed and ready to strike. One Skull swings his glowing axe, cutting through an entire troop of soldiers at once. Another Skull raises his hammer. The maji who charge are crushed in an instant.

“Òrì?à iná, fún mi ní iná—” Kenyon runs forward, streams of fire swirling in his hands. His flames shoot toward one Skull like a cannonball. The Skull cries out as his skin sears and he’s burned alive.

But before Kenyon can strike again, another Skull attacks. Kenyon’s eyes bulge as he takes the hammer to the chest. The sheer force cracks through every bone. His body flies into a tree and he hits the bark so hard the trunk explodes.

“Inan!” Mother roars.

I whip my head to the left. The ground quakes as Mother rips caverns through the earth. She tries to bury the Skulls that charge, but with their mighty strength, they leap over the gaping holes. One Skull grabs her by the neck. With a snap, Mother falls to the ground.

Her eyes hang open as she joins the dead.

I watch as the Skulls rain down hell, attacking every soul in the clearing. The soldiers who try to fight have their blades ripped in half. The maji who attempt to flee can’t outrun the transformed Skulls.

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