“I’m proud of you, son. No matter what. I’ll always be proud.”
Tzain hurriedly wipes his tears away. He’s not one to show his emotions. He saves his pain for the isolation of night.
“I love you,” Baba whispers to us both.
“We love you, too,” I croak.
He gestures at Tzain to mount Nailah. Amari follows, silent tears leaking onto her cheeks. Despite my grief, a prickle of anger flares. Why is she crying? Once again, her family is the reason mine is being torn apart.
Mama Agba kisses my forehead and wraps her arms around me tight.
“Be careful, but be strong.”
I sniffle and nod, though I feel everything but strength. I’m scared. Weak.
I’m going to let them down.
“Take care of your sister,” Baba reminds Tzain as I mount the saddle. “And Nailah, be good. Protect them.”
Nailah licks Baba’s face and nuzzles his head, a sign of a promise she’ll always keep. My chest seizes when she walks forward, traveling away from my heart and my home. When I turn back, Baba’s face shines with a rare smile.
I pray we’ll live to see that smile again.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
INAN
“COUNT TO TEN,” I whisper to myself. “Count. To. Ten.”
Because when I finish counting, this horror shall end.
The blood of the innocent will not stain my hands.
“One … two…” I grip Father’s sênet pawn with a shaking hand, so tight the metal stings. The numbers rise, but nothing changes.
Like Ilorin, all my plans have gone up in flames.
My throat tightens when the village falls in a fiery blaze, taking the homes of hundreds with it. My soldiers drag the corpses through the sand, bodies charred beyond recognition. The shrieks of the living and the injured fill my ears. My tongue tastes nothing but ash. So much waste. Death.
This was not my plan.
Amari should be in one hand, the div?ner thief chained in the other. Kaea should’ve retrieved the scroll. Only the div?ner’s hut need have burned.
If I had succeeded in returning the scroll, Father would’ve understood. He would’ve thanked me for my discretion, praised my shrewd judgment in sparing Ilorin. Our fish trade would be protected. The only threat to the monarchy would be crushed.
But I’ve failed. Again. After begging Father for another chance. The scroll is still missing. My sister at risk. An entire village wiped away. Yet I have nothing to show for it.
The people of Or?sha are not safe—
“Baba!”
I grab my blade as a small child hurls his body to the ground. His cries cut through the night. It’s only then I discover the sand-covered corpse at his feet.
“Baba!” He grasps at the body, willing it to wake. The blood of his father stains the skin of his small brown hands.
“Abeni!” A woman trudges through the wet sand. She gasps at the sight of the approaching guards. “Abeni, no, you must be quiet. B-baba wants you to be quiet!”
I turn away and squeeze my eyes shut, forcing my bile down. Duty before self. I hear Father’s voice. The safety of Or?sha before my conscience. But these villagers are Or?sha. They’re the very people I’m sworn to protect.
“This is a mess.” Admiral Kaea stomps to my side, knuckles bloody from beating the soldier who lit the fire too soon and started the blaze. I fight the urge to walk over and beat him myself as he lies moaning in the wet sand. “Get up and bind their wrists!” Kaea barks at the guard before lowering her voice again. “We don’t know if the fugitives are dead or alive. We don’t even know if they came back here.”
“We’ll have to round up the survivors.” I release a frustrated breath. “Hope that one of them…”
My voice trails off as a vile sensation crawls up my skin. Like in the market, the heat prickles my scalp. It pulses as a thin wisp of air floats toward me. A strange turquoise cloud cutting through the black smoke.
“Do you see that?” I ask Kaea.
I point, stepping back as the smoke slithers near. The strange cloud carries the scent of the sea, overwhelming the bite of ash in the air.
“See what?” Kaea asks, but I don’t have a chance to respond. The turquoise cloud passes through my fingers. A foreign image of the div?ner ignites in my head.…
The sound around me fades out, turning murky and muddled. The cold sea washes over me as the moonlight and fire fade from above. I see the girl who haunts my thoughts, sinking among the corpses and driftwood, falling into the blackness of the sea. She doesn’t fight the current that pulls her down. She relinquishes control. Sinking into death.
As my vision fades, I return to the screaming villagers and shifting sand. Something stings under my skin, the same bite that started when I last saw the div?ner’s face.
Suddenly all the pieces come together. The thrashing. The vision.
I should’ve known all along.
Magic …
My stomach twists in knots. I rake my nails over my tingling arm. I have to get this virus out of me. I need to rip the treacherous sensation from my skin—
Inan, focus.
I squeeze Father’s sênet pawn so hard my knuckles crack. I swore to him I was prepared. But how in the skies could I have prepared for this?
“Count to ten,” I whisper again, gathering all the pieces like pawns. By the time I hiss “five,” a terrifying realization hits: the div?ner girl has the scroll.
The spark I felt when she brushed against me. The electric energy that surged through my veins. And when our eyes locked …
Skies.
She must’ve infected me.
Nausea churns inside my stomach. Before I can stop myself, this morning’s roasted swordfish fights its way up. I double over as vomit burns my throat and hits the sand with a splash.
“Inan!” Kaea wrinkles her nose as I cough, a hint of concern eclipsed by her disgust. She probably thinks me weak. But better that than her discovering the truth.
I clench my fist, almost positive I can feel the magic attacking my blood. If maji can infect us now, they’ll defeat us before we have a chance to take them out.
“She was here.” I wipe my mouth on the back of my hand. “The div?ner with the scroll. We need to locate her before she hurts anyone else.”
“What?” Kaea’s thin brows crease. “How do you know?”
I open my mouth to explain when the sickening sting erupts under my scalp again. I turn. The prickle grows—it’s strongest when I face the southern forest.
Though the air stinks of charred flesh and black smoke, I catch the fleeting scent of the sea again. It’s her. It has to be. Hiding among the trees …
“Inan,” Kaea snaps. “What do you mean? How do you know she was here?”
Magic.
My grip tightens around the tarnished pawn. My palm itches at the touch. The word feels dirtier than maggot. If I can hardly stomach the idea, how will Kaea react?
“A villager,” I lie. “He told me they went south.”
“Where is the villager now?”
I point blindly at a corpse, but my finger lands on the scorched body of a child. Another turquoise cloud shoots toward me. All rosemary and ash.
Before I can run away, the cloud passes through my hand with sickening heat. The world fades out in a wall of flames. Screams bleed into my ears.
“Help—”