Page 73 of Children of Blood and Bone

But even dead, his corpse wraps a chill around my throat. He held my life in his hands.

He had every chance to throw it away.

My thumb grazes over Father’s tarnished pawn, my skin prickling as I back away from his body.I understand now, Father.

With magic we die.

But without it…

My gaze drifts back to the dead man, to the hands gifted by the heavens, stronger than the earth. Orïsha cannot survive that kind of power. But if I used it to get the job done…

A bitter tang crawls onto my tongue as the new strategy takes hold. Their magic is a weapon; mine could be one, too. If there are maji who can fling me from a cliff with a wave of their hand, magic is my only chance of getting the scroll back.

But the very thought makes my throat close up. If Father were here…

I look down at the pawn. I can almost hear his voice in my head.

Duty before self.

No matter the cost or collateral.

Even if it’s a betrayal of everything I know, my duty to protect Orïsha comes first. I release my hold on the pawn.

For the first time, I let go.

It starts slowly. Broken. Crawling limb by limb. The pressure in my chest is released. The magic I force down starts to stir underneath my skin. At the pulsing sensation, my stomach lurches, churning through every ounce of my disgust. But our enemies will use this magic against us.

If I’m to fulfill my duty and save my kingdom, I must do the same.

I sink into the warm thrum pulsing from within. Slowly, a cloud of the maji’s consciousness appears. Wispy and blue like the others, twisting above his head. As I touch it with my hand, the dead man’s essence hits first: a tinged scent. Rustic. Like burnt timber and coal.

My lips curl as I sink into his lingering psyche, reaching for it instead of running away. A single memory begins to flicker into my mind. A quiet day when his temple teemed with life. He ran across the manicured grass, hand in hand with a young boy.

The more I release the hold on my magic, the bigger the flicker grows. A whiff of clean mountain air fills my nose. A distant song rings through my ears. Each detail becomes rich and robust. As if the memory stored in his consciousness is my own.

With time, new knowledge begins to settle. A soul. A name. Something simple…

Lekan—

Metal heels clank against the stone cliff.

Skies!With a start, I force my magic down.

The smell of timber and coal vanishes in an instant. A sharp pain in my stomach reappears in its stead.

I pinch the bridge of my nose as my head reels from the whiplash. Moments later Kaea emerges from the thick underbrush.

Sweat-soaked hair sticks to her brown skin, now splattered with Lekan’s blood. As she nears, I reach up to make sure my helmet is still covering my head. That was far too close.…

“There’s no way across,” she sighs, sitting down beside me. “I scouted a full kilometer. With the bridge destroyed, we can’t travel between this mountain and the next.”

Figures.In the brief flicker I got of Lekan, I guessed as much. He was intelligent. He pursued the only path that would allow them to escape.

“I told him not to do this.” Kaea removes her black breastplate. “I knew this wouldn’t work.” She shuts her eyes. “He will blame me for their resurgence. He’ll never look at me the same way again.”

I know the look she speaks of; like she’s the sun, and he the sky. It’s the gaze Father reserves for her. The one he shares when he thinks they’re alone.

I lean away and pick at my boot, unsure of what to say. Kaea never breaks down in front of me. Before today, I thought she never broke at all.

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