“I don’t know.” She takes a deep, shuddering breath. “I can’t do it. No one can.”
Her words rip the floor out from under me. I can almost feel myself falling through the hole. Lekan said only a maji tethered to Sky Mother’s spirit could perform the ritual. Without another sêntaro to awaken others, no one else can take Zélie’s place.
“Perhaps you just need the sunstone—”
“I tried that.”
“And?”
“Nothing. It doesn’t even feel warm.”
I chew on my bottom lip, brows furrowed as I try to figure out something else. If the sunstone isn’t helping her, I doubt the scroll will.
“Didn’t this happen in Ibeji?” I ask. “After the arena battle? You said your magic felt blocked.”
“Blocked, not gone. It felt stuck, but it was still there. Now I feel nothing.”
Hopelessness builds inside me, making my legs go numb. We should turn back. We should wake one of Ro?n’s men and redirect the ship.
But through it all Binta’s face shines through, overpowering my fear, Father’s wrath. I’m taken back to that fateful day a moon ago, standing in Kaea’s quarters, holding the scroll. The odds were against us then. Reality told us we would fail. But again and again, we fought. We persevered. We rose.
“You can do it,” I whisper, feeling it even more when I say it aloud. “The gods chose you. They don’t make mistakes.”
“Amari—”
“I’ve watched you do the impossible since the first day we met. You’ve taken on the world for the people you love. I know you can do the same to save the maji.”
Zélie tries to look away, but I grab her face and force her to meet my eyes. If only she could see the person I see now, the champion prevailing inside.
“You’re that sure?” she asks.
“I have never been more sure of anything in my life. Besides, just look at you—if you cannot do magic, no one can.”
I hold up a mirror, showing Zélie the six thick plaits that fall to the small of her back. Her hair’s grown so curly over the past moon I forgot its former length.
“I look strong.…” She fingers her braids.
I smile and put the mirror down. “You should look like the warrior you are when you bring magic back.”
Zélie squeezes my hand, something sad still leaking through her grip.
“Thank you, Amari. For everything.”
I rest my forehead against hers, and we sit in a comfortable silence, translating our love through touch. The Princess and the Warrior, I decide in my head. When they tell the story of tomorrow, that is what they shall call it.
“Will you stay?” I pull back to look at Zélie’s face. “I don’t want to be alone.”
“Of course.” She smiles. “Something tells me I might actually fall asleep in this bed.”
I roll over to make space and she climbs in, nestling under the panthenaire covers. I lean over to put out the torchlight, but Zélie grabs my wrist.
“You really think this will work?”
My smile falters for a moment, but I hide it.
“I think no matter what, we have to try.”
CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN
ZéLIE
THE SKY LIGHTENS to pinks and tangerines as sunrise nears. Soft clouds move across the colors with ease, almost peaceful despite what today could bring. I’m eternally grateful for the navy’s armor when I grab the helmet that obscures my face. I put it on and tuck in my braids as Ro?n approaches with his mischievous grin.
“I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to chat last night.” A fake pout fills his face. “If this was about your hair, you should know I’m an excellent braider, too.”
I narrow my eyes, hating that the uniform suits him. He wears the armor with confidence; if I didn’t know better, I would think it was actually his.
“Nice to see a day of impending death hasn’t dampened your spirits.”
Ro?n’s smile widens. “You look good,” he whispers as he fastens his helmet. “Ready.”
With a sharp whistle he rallies our crew and everyone huddles up. Amari and Tzain push their way to the front, followed by Kenyon and the four members of his team. Tzain gives me an encouraging nod. I force myself to nod back.
“I interrogated Saran’s soldiers last night.” Ro?n’s voice rises above the sea wind. “They’ll be stationed around the perimeter of the island and within the temple itself. There’s no way to avoid them when we dock, but if we don’t draw attention to ourselves, we shouldn’t arouse suspicion. They’re expecting Zélie to storm in with a maji army, so as long as we’re in their armor, we’ll maintain the element of surprise.”
“But what about when we get inside the temple?” Amari asks. “Father will order his soldiers to shoot at the first sign of a disturbance. Unless we divert their forces, they’ll attack the moment they see us with the sacred artifacts.”
“When we’re near the temple, we’ll stage a distant assault to divert their forces. That should free Zélie up for the ritual.”
Ro?n turns to me and gestures, giving me the floor. I step back, but Amari pushes me forward; I stumble into the center of the crowd. I swallow hard and clasp my hands behind my back, desperate to sound strong.
“Just stick to the plan. As long as we don’t call attention to ourselves, we should make it to the temple alright.”
And that’s when you’ll see I can’t do it. That the gods have abandoned me once again. That’s when Saran’s men will attack.
That’s when we’ll all die.
I swallow again, shaking away the doubts that make me want to run away. This has to work. Sky Mother has to have a plan. But the prodding eyes and anxious mutters tell me my words aren’t enough. They want a rousing speech. But I need one myself.
“Gods…,” Tzain curses.
We whip around to the small fleet anchored around the island coordinates. As the sun peeks over the horizon, the island materializes before our eyes. At first it’s transparent like a mirage out at sea. But as the sun rises, the island solidifies into a large mass of fog and lifeless trees.
A warmth spreads through my chest, strong like when Mama Agba cast magic again for the first time. In that moment I felt so much hope. After all these years, I stopped feeling so alone.
Magic is here. Alive. Closer than it’s ever been. Even if I can’t feel it now, I have to believe I will feel it again.
I entertain the thought, pretending magic swirls through my veins, stronger than ever before. It would blister today, burning as hot as my rage.
“I know you’re scared.” Everyone turns back to me. “I’m scared, too. But I know your reason for fighting is stronger than your fear, because it’s led you here. Each of us has been wronged by the guards, by this monarchy that’s sworn to protect us. Today we strike back for us all. Today we make them pay!”
The shouts of agreement ring through the air; even the mercenaries join in. Their cries bolster my spirits, unlocking the words trapped within. “They may have a thousand men in their army, but not one of them has the support of the gods. We have magic on our side, so stay strong, stay confident.”
“And if everything goes to hell?” Ro?n asks when the cheers die down.
“Strike,” I answer. “Fight with everything you’ve got.”