Page 119 of Children of Blood and Bone

“That’s not true—”

“Bring the guards into this, and I’ll tell them your secret.” She crosses her arms. “When they come for us, I’ll make sure they kill you, too.”

My insides twist and I step back. Kaea’s blade strikes back into my mind. The fear in her grip. The hatred in her eyes.

A strange sadness settles in me as I reach into my pocket and wrap my hand around Father’s pawn. I bite back all the words I want to shoot back. If only she was wrong.

“Then what do you propose we do without guards?” I push. “I don’t see a way past that wall without a fighting force.”

Zélie turns back to the camp and wraps her arms around herself. She shivers even though the humidity around us makes me perspire.

“I’ll get us in,” she finally says. “Once we break through, we go our separate ways.”

Though she doesn’t say it, I know she’s thinking about the scroll. Once those walls come down, the fight for it will be fiercer than ever.

“What kind of plan do you have in mind?”

“That’s not your concern.”

“It is when I’m putting my life in your hands.”

Her eyes flick to me. Sharp. Untrusting. But then she presses her hands into the ground. A hum ignites in the air.

“4míàw?n tí ó ti sùn—”

Her words bend the earth to her will. It creaks and crumbles and cracks. An earthly figure rises beneath her touch. Brought to life by the magic of her hands.

“Skies,” I curse at her power. When did she learn this trick? But she doesn’t care what I know; she turns back to the camp.

“They’re called animations,” she says. “They follow my command.”

“How many can you make?”

“At least eight, maybe more.”

“That won’t do.” I shake my head.

“They’re powerful.”

“There’re too many fighters down there. We need a stronger force—”

“Fine.” Zélie turns on her heel. “If we’re attacking tomorrow night, I’ll figure out how to make more in the morning.”

She starts to walk away, but pauses.

“And a piece of advice, little prince. Don’t put your life in my hands unless you want that life to end.”

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

ZÉLIE

BEADS OF SWEATsoak through my cropped dashiki and drip onto the mountain stone. My muscles shake with the strain of practicing a hundred incantations, but Inan doesn’t let up. He rises from our latest skirmish, brushing hardened earth from his bare chest. Though a red welt swells on his cheek from my last animation, Inan squares his stance.

“Again.”

“Dammit,” I pant. “Just give me a break.”

“There’s no time for a break. If you can’t do this, we need another plan.”

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