Page 69 of Children of Anguish and Anarchy

My bones shake with the power King Baldyr hunts. The storm he’s awakened in my blood.

“When you face their king, you must release that surge. Harvesting that power is our only hope.”

Yéva claps her hands, and I blink. In an instant, I break from mytrance. The sun reappears in a brilliant glow. Blue skies look down on me from above.

I find myself on my knees in the center of the crater, clawing at the ground. The golden veins around the medallion buzz in my chest, still pulsing with the power of Yéva’s command.

Yéva stands with Mae’e on the mountain’s edge. Though fierce moments ago, now she has to hold on to Mae’e to stay upright. Slowly, I realize nobody else knows what she’s shared.

The weight of what’s to come stays with me alone.

I lift my hand and push—no power comes forth. How am I supposed to defeat their king when I can’t summon the golden lightning myself?

“Please.” I rise to my feet as Yéva turns to leave. “Show me how to fight.”

Despite her exhaustion, Yéva sweeps her hands out. I brace myself, allowing her to bring me back to the black.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

INAN

IN THE WEEKS FOLLOWINGthe cease-fire, Orïsha transforms before my eyes. Word of the Skulls’ impending arrival spreads throughout the lands. Orïshans travel from all over the kingdom, bringing their talents to the battlefront.

With the power of the maji and tîtáns combined, we fortify Lagos on all sides. Tamers call in wild animals to create a legion of trained ryders. A large pen is erected to hold the endless hordes of sleek cheetanaires, hulking panthenaires, and rare black-tusked elephantaires. The elder they call Na’imah shows the tîtáns how to enlarge the wild beasts, creating ryders large enough to charge through an entire legion of Skulls.

Out in the port, Nâo leads the Tiders, pushing back the waters so others can erect defenses. Kâmaru and the Grounders mold sand into hardened spikes large enough to rip through the bottom of an approaching Skull ship. Behind them, a legion of soldiers works diligently to lay down a path of floating bombs.

On the shores, Welders create special cannons for the Burners to shoot long-range attacks. With gathered blastpowder, the Burners generate lethal blows. The very air sears with the power of their flames.

Outside of Lagos, Mother works with her troop of tîtáns. I watch as they lift the earth. By working day in and day out, they’ve created a newmountain range, closing the city off. A single passageway allows fighters to make their way to the front, while leaving a way for the most vulnerable villagers to get out.

“And if the Skulls manage to pass our defenses?” I ask.

Mother clears everyone out of the way. Her hands glow with green light. With a clench of her fist, the earth rumbles. Rocks rise, closing off the passage.

“If we have to, we can bring the mountain down. They won’t be able to get away.”

I put my palm on Mother’s shoulder. She still bristles at my touch. But after a moment she grabs my hand, allowing her fingers to rest above my own.

“You’ve done well,” she says. “You should be proud.”

“It’s not me.” I shake my head. “It’s all of us.”

After fighting for a unified Orïsha for so long, I can hardly believe we’ve come so far. No longer a kingdom at war, I see the dreams I used to have for my people come to life. All the hopes I thought had died.

With our new partnership, we have something that might outlast the Skulls’ attack. The beginning of a new nation, one where the people are true allies. But to become that Orïsha, first we must survive.

If the Skulls land on our shores, they must be destroyed.

On instinct, I reach for the weathered parchment in my back pocket, bringing it out into the light. When the New Gaian emissaries sailed into Lagos’s port with a vessel woven from vines, I didn’t know what to expect. For a moment, I thought we were under attack.

Instead, the russet-skin beauties emerged in orange silks, calling for me with this parchment in hand. Immediately, I recognized Amari’s script. I pored over her words detailing everything the others had discovered.

As I finish my rounds around Lagos, I look to the words of Yéva’s prophecy again.

A daughter of the Great Mother’s storms…

A daughter of the Great Mother’s forge…

---