“Don’t compare your scars to mine, Princess. You’ll lose every time.”
“I’ll lose?” I charge forward. “I’ll lose? You had two parents who loved you till their dying breath. A brother who stands by your side. Both my parents tried to kill me with their own hands! I took the life of my own father to protect you and the maji!” My voice shakes with the tears that want to break free, but I don’t let them fall. I won’t let her win. I will not allow her to bring that out of me.
“I am sorry for everything my family’s done,” I continue, “but don’t you dare act like my pain isn’t real. You’re not the only one with scars, Zélie! My family’s hurt me just as much as it’s hurt you!”
Zélie’s face goes cold, and I stop in my tracks. I want to fix the chasm between us, yet every word we speak drags us further apart. She stares at me for a long moment, that horrible, empty look in her silver eyes. Then she turns and guides her ryder down, low enough so that she can mount.
“Zél, stop.” Tzain walks after her. “This has gone far enough. We’re all upset. We’re all hurting. The last thing we need is to turn on each other!”
Zélie pushes her tongue into her lower lip as she settles on Nailah’s back. “How quickly ‘you and me’ became ‘you and Amari.’”
“Gods, Zél—”
“Did you hear me?” she cuts him off. “When my skin was burning and I couldn’t breathe? Did you hear me scream your name, or were you too busy looking after Amari?”
Tzain’s lips part. His forehead creases with shame. “That’s not fair,” he says. “You know that’s not fair!”
“You two deserve each other.” Zélie squeezes her thighs, commanding Nailah to rise. “Say hello to her mother for me. I’m sure she loves poor fishermen’s sons just as much as she loves maji.”
“I swear to the gods—”
“Yah!” Nailah shoots forward at Zélie’s command, sprinting through the trees.
“Zélie!” Tzain runs after her, but within moments she’s too far away to be seen. He digs his hands into his scalp before pounding his fists against the nearest tree.
“She’ll be back,” he mutters into the bark. “Just let her breathe.”
I nod, but as I sink to the ground, I don’t know who he’s trying to convince.
CHAPTER TWELVE
ZÉLIE
TEARS BLUR MY VISION as we race through the trees of the Adichie Forest. My hands slip from Nailah’s horns. Without a saddle, I can barely hold on.
I grip with my thighs as the world passes by, a whirlwind of mountain cliffs and blowing leaves. I try to pretend Nailah’s speed is the only reason I can’t breathe.
Gods, help me.
I clench my teeth, fighting it all back. It’s like everything I’ve done wrong surfaces at once, a sea drowning me in its current.
No, I think to myself. Not them. Believing in the gods is what’s brought on this mess.
They’re the reason Baba’s dead.
Despair swells inside me as the terrain starts to dip. The earth beneath our feet slopes downhill. The forest trees start to thin. I clutch Nailah’s fur, struggling to stay upright when her paws slip. But the thought of how the gods used me makes me want to let go and tumble into the dirt.
All this time I believed in the gods’ greater plan. Their path when I couldn’t see. But all they led me to were the scars on my back. The open wounds on my heart. The gods used me like a pawn and cast me aside when magic returned. I can’t trust them to bring me anything but pain.
Mama, take me.
The new prayer forms, my heart breaking for the only thing I can still believe in. I think of standing in alâfia with her and Baba. The peace of death and being back in her arms.
She told me Orïsha needed me, that my work wasn’t done. But bringing magic back only made things worse. The maji are worse off than before.
I close my eyes, muscles clenching at the memory of Queen Nehanda ripping the ashê from her tîtáns’ veins. Magic was all we had to defend ourselves, and now our magic isn’t even as strong as hers.
It doesn’t matter what I do. It doesn’t matter how hard I fight. The maji will never be free.
All that awaits us in this world is heartache.
“Mama, take me!” I scream the words, throwing my head to the sky. The whipping winds cut at the burns on my face. Blood mixes with my tears.
“Take me back,” I whisper, burying myself in Nailah’s coat. No more fighting against the monarchy. No more fighting just to exist. No more tears. No more strife. No more pain.
No more Tzain.
The thought creates a canyon out of the hole in my heart. It’s almost enough to make me turn Nailah around and run back into his arms.
And Amari …
I breathe deep, wishing I could take back every word I screamed. I don’t know how to tell her that it’s not her fault. That I scream at her because I can’t scream at Inan—
“Whoa!” I gasp as we break free of the forest. The silver moon hangs in the night sky, shining over the black silhouettes of the Olasimbo Mountain Range. The terrain changes without warning as the trees disappear, bringing us to a steep cliff that juts out over plummeting darkness.
Nailah roars and digs her nails into the ground to slow us down. Gravel and dirt fly as we careen across the mountainside.
“Hold on!” I yank back on her horns with all the force I have. With a yelp, my lionaire tumbles onto her side. I cry out as the collision throws me from her back.
I claw at the sky as I fly toward the forest. My body smashes through wiry branches before slamming into a tree. I wheeze as my chest collides with hard bark. My ribs fracture with a loud crack.
Blood flies from my lips as my vision blacks out and I tumble to the ground. I curl into myself, lying there until my sight returns.
After a few moments, my cheek grows slick with licks from Nailah’s tongue. Her wet nose nudges my face as the world fades away. For once, I don’t try to hold on.
Take me back. I lift up the prayer once more. Mama was wrong to keep me on earth.
I’m far too broken to help anyone.
Mama, please …
I release it all, allowing the blackness in. But when I open my eyes, I see white.
I see dirt.
I see reeds.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ZÉLIE
I DON’T KNOW if I’m trapped in a dream or a nightmare.
No chains bind me, but I can’t move.
Crisp air fills my lungs, yet I can’t breathe.
Gray, wilting reeds surround me, a haze of white peeking through like a blanket of clouds. Brittle dirt presses against my bare skin, falling away as I force myself up.
How?
The question pulses through my mind when I look around the dreamscape. The last time I was brought to this ethereal space, Saran’s knife had just carved through my back. I kissed Inan through my tears.
Now there’s no lush forest. No trickles of flowing water.
There’s only me.
And him.
Inan lies in the dying reeds, far closer than I ever want him to be. I don’t know if he’s just in my head.