And not just my magic …
The memory of Kwame’s inferno rages so hot, my skin prickles at the imagined heat. I convinced myself I had nothing to fear, but now fear is all I feel. What if Zu couldn’t control him? What if she had never arrived? If Kwame hadn’t stopped his flames, I wouldn’t even be here.
“It’s not the right time,” I finally say. “The solstice is only four days away—”
“So why not give these div?ners their powers back now?” Amari’s hold on my hair tightens. “Please, Zélie, talk to me. I want to understand.”
I hug my knees to my chest and close my eyes, almost smiling at Amari’s words. I remember the days when the sight of magic made her flinch. Now it’s her fighting for it as I cower.
I try to will away memories of Tzain’s face, the coldest look I could ever get. I recognized the terror in his eyes. When Kwame touched the sunstone and ignited, I looked at him the same way.
“Is it because of Inan?” Amari presses when I stay silent. “Are you afraid of what he’ll do?”
“Inan isn’t the problem.” At least not this problem.
Amari pauses, releasing my hair to kneel at my side. With her back straight and shoulders squared, she looks like the true princess she is, regal in a borrowed golden dress.
“What happened while Tzain and I were gone?”
Though my heart skips a beat, I keep my face blank. “I already told you—we teamed up to get you both back.”
“Zélie, please, I need you to be honest. I love my brother, I do. But I have never seen this side of him.”
“What side is that?”
“Going against my father. Fighting for the maji? Something happened to him, and I know it has to do with you.”
She looks at me with knowing eyes, and my ears burn. I think about the dreamscape, the moment our lips almost touched.
“He learned.” I shrug. “He saw what your father’s done, what his guards are doing now. He wants to find a way to make things right.”
Amari crosses her arms and arches her brow. “You must think I’m blind or stupid, and you know I’m not blind.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about—”
“Zélie, he stares at you. He smiles like—skies, I don’t even know. I have never seen him smile the way he smiles with you.” I look at the ground and she grabs my chin, forcing me to meet her eyes. “I want you to be happy, Zél. More than you realize. But I know my brother.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Amari pauses, pinning another coil back. “Either he’s about to betray us or something else is taking place.”
I wrench my chin out of her grasp and turn toward the floor. Guilt seeps through every part of my body.
“You sound like Tzain.”
“Tzain is worried, and he has every right to be. I can get through to him, but first I need to know if I should.”
You shouldn’t.
That’s the obvious choice. But despite everything he has done, the memory of Inan carrying me into the camp stays strong. I close my eyes and breathe deeply.
I don’t remember the last time I felt so safe in someone else’s arms.
“When you told me Inan had a good heart, I thought you were a fool. Part of me feels like the fool now, but I’ve seen that heart for myself. He saved me from getting captured by Zu’s fighters; he did everything he could to get you and Tzain back. And when the time came for him to grab the scroll and run, he stayed. He tried to save me.”
I pause and search for the words she wants to hear, the ones I’m almost too afraid to speak aloud.
“He has a good heart. I think he’s finally using it.”
Amari’s hands fidget. She presses them tight to her chest.
“Amari—”
She wraps her arms around me and squeezes. I stiffen in surprise. Not knowing what else to do, I slowly hug her back.
“I know this must seem ridiculous to you, I just…” She pulls away and wipes the tears threatening to fall from her eyes. “Inan has always been caught between wrong and right. I just want to believe he can be right.”
I nod, thinking of the things I want from Inan. I hate how many times I’ve thought about him today, thought about his lips, his smile. Despite how much I push against it, the longing remains: a desperation to feel his touch again.…
More tears threaten to fall from Amari’s eyes and I wipe them away with the sleeve of my kaftan.
“Stop,” I order. “You’ll ruin your makeup.”
Amari snorts. “I think you did that for me.”
“I told you not to trust me with the charcoal!”
“How can you wield a staff and not keep a steady hand?”
We dissolve into a fit of giggles, a sound so foreign it takes me by surprise. But our laughter dies as Tzain bounds into the tent. When he meets my eye, he stops.
At first, he regards me like a stranger, but something inside him thaws.
“What is it?” Amari asks.
Tzain’s chin trembles. He drops his gaze to the ground. “She … Zél looks like Mama.”
His words rip through my heart and warm it at the same time. Tzain never speaks of Mama like this. At times, I think he’s truly forgotten her. But as our eyes meet, I realize he’s just like me; he carries Mama like the air, a passing thought of her in every breath.
“Tzain—”
“The procession’s starting.” He turns to Amari. “You should finish up.”
And with that he’s gone, wringing my heart.
Amari slips her hand in mine. “I’ll talk to him.”
“Don’t.” I ignore the bitter taste on my tongue. “He’ll just get mad at you, too.” And no matter what you say, it’ll still be all my fault.
I stand and tug the sleeves of my dress, smoothing out a crease that doesn’t exist. After a lifetime of mistakes, there are so many things I regret. But this … this is the one thing I would give anything to take back.
With a heavy chest, I move for the exit, pretending my heart doesn’t ache. But before I can leave, Amari grabs my hand again, forcing me to stay.
“You still haven’t explained why you’re not sharing the scroll.” Amari stands, studying me. “There’s a whole valley of div?ners out there waiting to become maji. Why aren’t we giving that to them?”
Amari’s words hit me like Mama Agba’s smacks. Like the sword Lekan took to the chest. They gave up everything to give me a chance like this, and yet all I can do is throw it away.
When I first thought about sharing the scroll tonight, I couldn’t stop imagining all the beauty and joy the new magic would spread. For once it would feel like it did before the Raid. The maji would reign again.
But now each smiling div?ner twists into all the pain that could lie in their wake: Grounders ripping the earth under our feet; Reapers losing control and unleashing waves of death. I can’t risk their magic coming back. Not without rules. Leaders. Plans.
And if I can’t do this now, how will I be able to complete the ritual?
“Amari, it’s complicated. What if someone loses control? What if the wrong person touches the sunstone? We could awaken a Cancer and all die of a plague!”