Page 92 of Children of Anguish and Anarchy

Köa reaches into my body, and I seize. He pulls the ink-soaked rib free. The other Lâminas shout as Köa shoves the bone into my hand.

“Find your strength!” he speaks in my tongue.

I see myself running after Zélie. I feel Baba’s bleeding body in my arms. The weight of my armor when I wanted to protect Amari. The cold rubber of my old agbön ball.

I see every Skull I slayed. Every guard I cut down with my blade. But then I see Mama’s smile.

Everything else fades away.…

“My sweet boy!” Mama’s face lights up as I hand her the black calla lily. Though it pains her, she sits up in her cot. She winces and my smile drops.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper the words. Her pain is my fault. I drowned in the mountain lake. The blood magic Mama used to bring me back nearly took her own life.

“Do not be sorry, my love.” Mama motions at me, and I take the flower, putting it behind her ear. “You are my heart.” She places her hand on my cheeks. “You are my strength.”

The rib’s light glows so bright it shines through the entire clearing.Cracks fill the air as it grows, taking on a new shape. The single rib twists and expands, transforming into a bone axe. Half a meter long, the handle rises like a spine. With its double head, wide, hooked blades shine on both sides.

I squeeze the ivory handle. My chest heaves as my skin remolds. Though no voices fill my head, I feel the might I wielded with the Skull’s bloodmetal.

Köa lifts my hand in the air. The Lâminas roar in return.

“Um irmão de osso!” they chant in unison.

A thrill runs through me as they all pile into the circle.

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

ZÉLIE

STANDING ON THE SUMMITof Mount Gaia, I feel her heart beat deep below. The world has shifted since I awoke from her sacred spring. I sense the life in the vines around me.

Yéva’s loss hangs over the city like storm clouds. Every New Gaian dresses in white. A never-ending line waits before the Mother Root at the city’s center to pay their respects. They whisper words of gratitude into the vines like the fallen hierophant can hear.

Guilt weighs down every breath I take. At times I worry Yéva made a mistake. In her absence, attendants talk to me. At me. They search for answers I can’t give. Yéva had been with her people for nearly two hundred years.

She used her last light to keep me here.

If I’d only been strong enough…

Regret eats at me. We wouldn’t be here if I had been able to stay in control. My gut twists with the golden lightning trapped inside. I hear the words King Baldyr whispered. They shudder down my spine.

Blóðseiðr.

My fingers scrape the medallion in my chest. It’s like King Baldyr stands over my shoulder, staring down at the city of New Gaia.

His presence haunts me though we’re oceans apart.

I can still feel the paralysis that hit me when he invoked the blood oath, the sear of the medallion activating at his command. I yearn to take back the magic he ripped from my skin, the powers he used to reanimate his fallen men.

His actions desecrated every sacred Reaper act I’ve ever known, magic only meant to be used over the spirits caught between this life and the next world. With that power over me, I don’t know how to fight back.

I don’t know what I’ll do if he lands on New Gaia’s shores and attacks.

As the days tick away until the Blood Moon, the city prepares to wage war. The Lâminas train like beasts. The shouts of battle echo from their training squares. Every night they travel into the jungle to activate their newest warriors, tattooing fresh weapons on the trainees’ bare skin.

Vineweavers work day and night to create new videiras for the attack, reshaping their boats to add more riders. Their new additions triple the vessels’ speed, allowing us to race to King Baldyr’s lands.

Other weavers work to erect new fortresses around New Gaia’s borders. Thick vine towers rise from the ocean shores. They take turns practicing their defenses, using elongated vines to snap massive fish from the ocean as if they were the Skulls’ ships.

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