Page 78 of Children of Anguish and Anarchy

I look up at the crescent moon. There’s nothing I wouldn’t give to feel my old magic again. All of this would be so much different if I had the power of my animations, the ability to raise spirits of the dead.

When my magic first returned, animations were the Reaper incantation I mastered. The spirits of the dead always answered my call.

Now I struggle to use any power at all.

“Zélie.” Emperor Jörah calls me by name. I turn away from the waters to face him. It’s strange to see him out of the imperial palace. Free of his golden mantle, the emperor is stripped of all but his black pants.

Jörah extends me my staff. I wrap my fingers around the crossed blades. The weapon grants me comfort, but I know it won’t be enough to take King Baldyr down.

“Do not worry.” Jörah seems to read my mind. “You are only here to confirm the identity of their king. You will stay behind me.”

I arch my brow. Orïshan floats from his lips with surprising precision.

“You’ve learned our tongue?” I ask.

“Would you let foreigners into your kingdom without understanding their words?”

“My kingdom?” I almost laugh. “I don’t think you understand. The boy who delivered the maps—heis the closest thing to a king our nation has.”

“A king without a crown or an army?” Jörah tilts his head. “I know what I see. You are the one who leads.”

I look back out over the waters and think of Orïsha, remembering all the different people who used to mill through the village of Ilorin. For the first time, the fight I must wage is not only about the maji.

I see the tîtáns with their white streaks. The black-haired kosidán I always used to resent. Even the very soldiers who hunted me for years are the people I now must find the strength to defend.

“After tonight, you will be able to return victorious.” Jörah stands firm. “Your people will be proud.”

I want to believe his words. But the closer we sail to the trading port, the more something gnaws at my core.

“What if it’s not enough?” I dare to speak my fears. “What if we should be launching a greater attack?”

“Point out their king.” Jörah bends down, allowing me to see the fervor in his pale green gaze. “I assure you—I will bring you back his golden skull.”

WHEN WE FINALLY ARRIVEat the chain of islands, my chest turns cold. It’s as if the ship we sank in the seas has been resurrected from the dead. A new monster sprouting multiple heads.

Seven vessels sit in the small island’s bay. Their crimson bannerswave through the night. More Skulls than I’ve ever seen travel along the decks, unloading their ships.

Warriors just like the ones who tormented us walk the rocky shores. They mill through bonfires and shoddy tents. My skin crawls at the sight of their bronze masks.

Being forced to face the enemy again, I see red. I taste the blood they spilled. My majacite crown prickles against my temple, reminding me of all the ways I suffered on their ship.

Use it.I clutch my staff. Yéva’s words rattle within me once more. I reach for the rage Oya granted me on the ship. I remember every one of the maji who didn’t get to escape. I think of every single one of my people tossed into the seas. The way the Skulls watched us starve and bleed.

A heavy hand comes down over my own. My fingers crackle at Jörah’s touch.

“Do not fear,” he speaks in his tongue. “This ends here.”

Half the night burns as we wait for King Baldyr to dock. Without his presence, his men run rampant. They treat the island like their own isle of sins. They gamble. They feast. They drink.

The Skulls get so inebriated most can barely stand. I wring the neck of my staff. Just as I start to worry Inan’s information was wrong, a loud horn rings out.

HA-WOOOOOO!

The familiar sound twists my stomach into knots. The last time I heard that horn, it was ringing to alert the Skulls of our escape.

I rise to my feet, joining the men at the bow of the ship. The metal in my chest vibrates.

I feel King Baldyr before I see his face.

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