Page 89 of Children of Anguish and Anarchy

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

INAN

SILENCE HANGS OVER OUR HEADS.

It crushes like our defeat.

The plans I risked my life to enact run through my mind. I knew we needed an army.

Without Zélie, there would have been no risen Skulls. Emperor Jörah’s combined forces could have taken down the other ships. Our war could’ve ended tonight. Instead we’re left waiting to see if Zélie still lives.

I look across the emperor’s throne room—Jörah and Köa stand by the doors, awaiting word from Mount Gaia. When we arrived at the imperial palace, the Green Maidens went straight to work, laying out their herbs and oils on the emerald-brick floors. They ground a mixture together, using the paste to stanch Jörah’s and Köa’s wounds. When the bleeding finally stopped, they bandaged their leaders’ arms with banana leaves covered in woven vines. Their working hands were the only sound to fill the room.

Tzain sits against the far wall, staring at the axe in his hands. When the Green Maidens tried to come to his aid, they discovered none of the blood coating his dark skin was his.

I still don’t know what transpired in the cave. Tzain’s shoulders seem to slump with shame. And all the while the leader of the Lâminas keeps Tzain under his startling green gaze.

Unable to stay still, I walk to the palace windows. The shouts of New Gaians travel through the stained glass. In our brief return, the news of our failed attack has flown through the city. The fact that Emperor Jörah was harmed has sent a frenzy through their lands. Palace attendants reeled at the deaths of the emperor’s best Lâminas. The very vines seem to hang their heads.

Before, all we had was our word. We were the cruel harbinger of Yéva’s prophecy. But now something has shifted. The New Gaians understand this threat is real.

The Skulls are coming. The Skulls are nearly here. Voices that once cried for our demise now cry out for us to save them.

Three sharp knocks pull me from my thoughts. Tzain rises to his feet. Jörah opens the door to find two Green Maidens. I recognize the faces of the girls who took Zélie.

“Imperador,” one Maiden starts. I draw closer as they exchange words. Jörah closes the door and turns to us.

“She is alive.”

The news hits like a wave. Tzain turns to the wall, hiding from us all. The breath I didn’t know I was holding releases from my chest. But the weight of what I discovered on King Baldyr’s battleship keeps me on edge. We don’t have much time.

According to Amari, the Blood Moon rises in ten days.

“I need to show you something.” I reach for the parchments in my waistband. Each is still wet from my plunge into the sea. I take the time to unravel them with care, delicately laying them across the tiled floor.

The men circle around me. Hard lines crease through Jörah’s forehead when he sees the map of New Gaia. It shows the details of the crescent-shaped island, the thick forest covering the land, the volcanic mountains surrounding the floating city, even the temples of the hierophant.

“Where did you get this?” Jörah asks.

“King Baldyr’s ship,” I respond. I point to the second map, allowing them to see the western borders of Baldeírik. “They intend to strike on the eve of the Blood Moon. In ten days’ time. They have a fleet of over a hundred ships prepared to storm both of our shores.”

“They will not get through,” Köa declares. “Yéva can keep them at bay.”

“Yéva is no more.” Jörah hangs his head. “She has returned to the Mother Root.”

At the revelation, Köa stumbles back. He looks to the window at the faces of his chanting people. For the first time since I’ve seen the warrior, true fear enters his eyes.

Köa falls to his knees and bows his head. He presses his hand against the floor. Jörah joins him in a moment of prayer. I turn away, allowing them the dignity of space. A long silence passes before Jörah rises back to his feet.

“What can we do?” Jörah asks. “How can we defend my lands? Mae’e is strong, but she is not ready. She cannot keep back a fleet of a hundred by herself.”

Everyone looks to me. Staring at the maps, I only see one viable path.

“It’s not enough to defend your shores,” I decide. “We know of their incoming attack. We have one more chance to strike.”

“How?” Köa growls, nearly shaking with the words. His desire to fight the Skulls again runs through me as if it were my own. His need to seek vengeance for Yéva and his fallen men is so strong it burns.

“Their power is in their fleet,” I say. “Without it, they’re landlocked. They won’t be able to sail to Orïsha or New Gaia. They’ll be left vulnerable toourattacks.”

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