We shimmy out of the crawl space and tear down another path, accidentally slamming into a pair of curious div?ners. One drops his bottle of rum, and the sharp scent wafts into my nose, so strong my nostrils burn. With its odor, another lesson from Mama Agba’s hut resurfaces.
I scoop the bottle off the ground and scan the streets for my missing ingredient. There. It’s only a few meters from the girl’s head.
“Grab the torch!”
“What?”
“The torch!” I shriek. “The one right in front of you!”
It takes her a second to wrestle the metal torch from its hold, but when she does, we take off running. As we pass the last of the slums, I rip a piece of cloth from my cloak and stuff it into the bottle.
“What is this for?” she asks.
“Let’s hope you don’t find out.”
We break free of the slums, and the wooden gate of Lagos’s entrance comes into view. The key to our escape.
Barred by a royal blockade.
My stomach sinks as we skid to a halt before the endless line of armed guards. The soldiers ride menacing black panthenaires, each giant beast baring its fangs. Their dark fur shines like a thin layer of oil under the sun, matte rainbows of color embedded throughout their black coats. Even as the panthenaires crouch, they still tower over us, primed and ready to pounce.
“You’re surrounded!” The captain’s amber eyes bore into me. “By the decree of King Saran, I order you to halt!”
Unlike his soldiers, the captain rides a vicious snow leopanaire nearly as big as my hut. Eight thick horns protrude from its back, sharp and glistening in black. The monster licks its long, serrated fangs as it snarls, eager to decorate its spotted white coat with our blood.
The captain has the same dark copper complexion as the girl, skin free of wrinkles and the scars of battle. When the girl sees him, her hands fly to her hood; her legs begin to shake.
Though the captain is young, the guards follow his lead without question. One by one, each soldier unsheathes his sword, pointing the blades our way.
“It’s over,” the girl breathes in dismay. Tears stream down her face as she kneels to the ground. She drops the torch in defeat and pulls out a scroll of wrinkled parchment.
I pretend to follow her lead and crouch, touching the cloth in the bottle to the torch’s flame. The acrid stench of smoke fills my nose. As the captain closes in, I hurl the weapon at the line of panthenaires.
Come on, I will the glass bottle, trailing its arc with my eyes. As it flies, I worry nothing will happen.
Then the world erupts in flames.
The fire burns brilliantly, sweeping men and horned panthenaires into its blaze. The beasts howl in hysteria, bucking their riders in an attempt to get away.
The girl stares in horror, but I grab her arm and force her to move. We’re only a few meters away from the gate now, only a few meters away from freedom.
“Close the gate!” the captain yells as I brush by. The girl crashes into him but manages to slip through his grasp when he stumbles.
The metal gears groan and churn and the wooden gate starts falling down. The checkpoint guards brandish their weapons, our last obstacles to freedom.
“We won’t make it!” the girl wheezes.
“We don’t have a choice!”
I sprint faster than I knew it was possible to run. The drunk guard from before unsheathes his sword, raising his arm to slash. His sluggish movement invites more laughter than fear. I smack his skull with a vengeance, taking an extra second to knee him in the groin when he drops.
Another guard manages to get in a swing of his sword, but it’s easy to block with my staff. I spin the metal rod in my hands, knocking the sword from his grip. His eyes widen as I deliver a roundhouse kick to the face, slamming him against the wooden gate before I pass.
We did it! I want to scream as I run under the cover of the jackalberry trees. I turn to smile at the girl, but she’s not there. My heart seizes as I watch her tumble to the ground, a finger’s breadth before the gate. Clouds of dirt greet her fall.
“No!” I shriek. The gate’s only moments away from shutting.
After all that, she’s not going to make it.
After coming so close, she’s going to die.
Run, I order myself. Escape. You have Tzain. Baba. You’ve done all you can.
But the despair in her eyes pulls me back, and I know my blessings have run out. Because despite every protest in my body, I dash through the gates, rolling through moments before they slam shut.
“You’re done.” The captain steps forward, bloody from the firebomb. “Drop your weapon. Now!”
It seems like every guard in Lagos is staring us down. They circle us in droves, blocking each path before we can attempt another escape.
I pull the girl to her feet and hold my staff high. This ends here. They will not take me. I will force them to kill me where I stand.
My heart slams against my chest as the guards close in. I take a moment to enjoy my last breaths, picturing Mama’s soft eyes, her ebony skin.
I’m coming, I think to her spirit. She probably roams alafia now, floating through the peace of the afterlife. I imagine myself beside her. I’ll be with you so—
A thunderous roar rings through the air, freezing the guards in their steps. The cry grows louder and louder, deafening in its approach. I barely have enough time to pull the girl out of harm’s way when Nailah’s monstrous figure leaps over the gate.
Guards tumble back in fear as my lionaire lands on the dirt path, saliva dripping from her massive fangs. I’m convinced she’s a hallucination until I hear Tzain shouting from atop Nailah’s back.
“The hell you waiting for?” he yells. “Get on!”
Without wasting another second, I hop onto Nailah’s back and pull the girl aboard. We take off, jumping from shack to shack before the shanties crumble under her weight. When Nailah gets enough height, she makes a final leap, flying toward the gate.
We’ve almost cleared it when a shock like lightning surges through my veins.
The shock travels through every pore in my skin, igniting my being, catching my breath. Time seems to freeze as I look down, locking eyes with the young captain.
An unknown force burns behind his amber gaze, a prison I can’t escape. Something in his spirit seems to claw onto mine. But before I can spend another second locked in his eyes, Nailah flies over the gate, severing our connection.
She lands on the ground with a thud and takes off, thundering through the jackalberry trees.
“My gods,” I breathe. Every part of my body screams with strain. I can’t believe we actually made it.
I can’t believe I’m still alive.
CHAPTER SIX
INAN
FAILURE.
Disappointment.
Disgrace.
Which insult shall Father brand me with today?
I run through the possibilities as I enter the gate and ascend the white marble steps of the palace. Failure would be fitting. I’m returning with no fugitive in hand. But Father might not waste his words.
He could lead with his fist.
This time, I cannot blame him. Not truly.
If I can’t defend Lagos from a single thief, how in the world am I supposed to become Or?sha’s next king?
Curse the skies. I pause for a moment, gripping the smooth alabaster railing. Today was to be my victory.