“4mí àw?n tí ó ti sùn—”
Though I chant, the last of my ashê dwindles from my fingers. I’m not strong enough. My magic’s run dry. But if I can’t do it, Tzain and Amari might die. Our ship will go down, our chance at the sunstone will disappear. We won’t be able to bring magic back.
I stare at the scar on my palm. Mama’s face flashes behind my eyes.
I’m sorry, I think to her spirit.
I don’t have a choice.
I bite into my hand. The copper tang of blood fills my mouth as my teeth break through the skin. The blood spreads into the water, glowing with a white light that wraps around my form. My eyes bulge as the light travels within me, vibrating in my blood, radiating through my core.
Ashê tears through my veins, searing my skin from the inside out.
“4mí àw?n tí ó ti sùn—”
Waves of red flash behind my eyes.
Oya dances for me again.
Water twists around me, writhing with new and violent life. The blood magic takes over, enacting my will. With a rush, a new army of animations swirls before my eyes.
Their watery skin bubbles with blood and white light, coming alive with the force of a storm. Ten more animations awaken to join the army, water swirling as their bodies take form. They draw the blood and the debris into their skin, creating new armor for my army of the dead. They look to me when the last animation comes forth.
“Save the boat!”
My spirit soldiers shoot through the water like dual-finned sharks, fiercer than any ship or cannon in sight. Though my insides burn, the thrill of my magic overwhelms the chaos of our fight.
Pleasure swells through me as they follow my silent directive and disappear into the holes left by the cannonballs. A second later all the water inside begins to rush out.
Yes!
In an instant our ship gains buoyancy, bobbing back up to the surface. When all the water is out, the animations join with the wood, patching the holes with the watery remains of their bodies.
It worked!
But my wonder doesn’t last long.
Though the animations have disappeared, the surge of the blood magic remains.
My skin sears as it tears through me, burning as if the blood magic is ripping my organs apart. The violence shreds through my muscles. My hands go numb.
“Help!”
I try to scream, but bubbles rush through my throat. Horror sinks into my bones. Mama was right.
This blood magic will destroy me.
I swim for the surface, but each kick is harder than the last. My arms lose feeling, then my feet.
Like vengeful spirits, the blood magic overwhelms me, clinging to my mouth, my chest, my skin. Though I fight for the surface, I can’t move. Once so close, our ship now falls farther and farther away.
“Tzain!”
The crimson sea muffles the sound of my screams.
The little air I have in my lungs disappears.
Water rushes in.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
AMARI
I GRIP THE EDGE of the boat, heartbeat racing as its sinking slows to a rough halt.
“She did it!” Tzain pounds a fist against the ship’s railing. “Zél, you did it!”
But when Zélie doesn’t resurface, Tzain’s triumph disappears. He yells her name over and over again, shouting himself hoarse.
I lean over the edge of the ship and scan the waters, frantically searching for a shock of white hair against the red. There’s only one vessel left, but Zélie is nowhere in sight.
“Tzain, wait!”
He jumps overboard, leaving the boat without its captain. The final ship turns in the water, altering its course.
“And just like that, our final competitors are out of blastpowder!” the announcer’s voice sings. “But only one captain can make it to the end. To win, only one captain can live!”
“Tzain!” I scream over the edge of the ship, heart quaking as the final boat nears. I can’t do this on my own. We need him to take down the last ship.
The enemy’s rowers paddle as fast as they can, while those who manned their cannons arm themselves with blades. Our own crew abandons their posts, scrambling for the spears and swords attached to the ship. Though I shake, they do not hesitate. They are ready, eager, prepared to bring this hell to an end.
Relief rocks my core when Tzain breaks above the surface, one arm wrapped tightly around Zélie’s unconscious body. I untack a rope from the side and throw it over the edge; Tzain secures it under Zélie’s arms and yells at us to pull her up.
Three laborers join me as I yank, raising Zélie onto the deck. The enemy is moments away now. If she can summon her animations again, we can all live through this.
“Wake up!” I shake Zélie, but she doesn’t stir. Her skin burns to the touch. Blood drips from a corner of her lip.
Skies, this won’t work. We have to bring Tzain back up. I claw at the knots binding Zélie’s torso, but before the final knot is undone, the enemy ship smashes into ours.
With a wild roar, our competitors jump aboard.
I scramble to my feet and wave my sword like a child trying to keep a lionaire away with a flame. There is no technique in my thrust, no sign of the years spent in pain.
Strike, Amari, Father’s voice thunders in my head, bringing me back to the tears spilled when he commanded me to fight Inan. I dropped my sword. I refused.
Then my brother’s blade ripped through my back.
My stomach lurches as our crew dives into the fight, the chance at victory spurring them on. They overpower the other crew with ease, blowing past their swords to land lethal strikes. Crazed men run toward us, but by the grace of the gods, our crew cuts them down. One man dies just steps from me, blood pooling in his mouth as a knife protrudes from his neck.
Let it end, I plead. Just let me make it out!
But as I pray, the captain breaks through, sword plunging forward. I brace myself for the attack, but then I realize he’s not coming at me. His sword aims down, angled to the side.
He’s targeting Zélie.
Time freezes as the captain nears, his glinting blade drawing closer and closer by the second. Everything around me goes quiet.
Then blood splatters into the air.
For a moment, I am too shocked to realize what I have done. But when the captain falls, my blade goes with him. Pierced straight through his gut.
The arena falls quiet. Smoke begins to clear.
I cannot breathe when the announcer speaks.
“It appears we have a winner.…”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
ZéLIE
538.
That’s how many times my body was ripped apart.
How many spirits perished for sport. How many innocent souls shriek in my ears.
Corpses float among the wood in the never-ending sea of blood. Their presence stains the air, invading my lungs with every breath.
Gods, help us. I close my eyes, trying to drown the tragedy out. Through it all, the cheers never stop. The praise never ends. As we stand on the platform, the crowd rejoices as if there’s a reason to celebrate this bloodbath.