Page 80 of Children of Blood and Bone

Before Amari can finish, deafening blasts explode through the air.

The arena quakes as the first ship fires.

Two cannonballs shoot from the metal muzzles, merciless in their aim. They crash into the next boat’s rowers, obliterating lives on impact.

“Ah!” Vicious pain rips through my body, even though nothing strikes me. The thick taste of blood coats my tongue, stronger than it’s ever been.

“Zél!” Tzain shouts. At least, I think he shouts. It’s impossible to hear him over the screams. As the ship sinks, the crowd’s cheers blur with the shrieks of the dead overwhelming my mind.

“I feel it,” I say, gritting my teeth to avoid a mangled cry. “Each one, each death.”

A prison I can’t escape.

The blast of cannonballs shakes the walls. Shattered wood flies through the air as another ship goes down. Blood and corpses rain into the water, while injured survivors fight not to drown.

Each new death hits me as hard as Lekan’s spirit did at Chândomblé, flowing through my mind and body. My head surges with broken disparate memories. My body harbors all their pain. I black in and out of the agony, waiting for the horror to end. I get a flash of the girl in white, only now she’s drowned in red.

I don’t know how long it lasts—ten minutes, ten days.

When the bloodshed is finally over, I’m too weak to think, to breathe. Little remains of the ten ships or their captains, each blown apart at another’s hand.

“Looks like another night without a victor!” The announcer’s voice booms over the cries of the spectators. He brandishes the stone, making sure it catches the light.

It glimmers above the crimson sea, shining above the corpses floating among the shards of wood. The sight makes the crowd scream louder than they have all night. They want more blood.

They want another fight.

“We’ll just have to see if tomorrow’s captains can win this magnificent prize!”

I lean into Tzain and shut my eyes. At this rate, we’ll die before we ever touch that stone.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

INAN

THE DISTANT SHOUTSof stockers ring over the faint clinks of construction. Kaea’s disgruntled barks reign over them. Though reluctant, she appears to be taking the assembly lead. After three days under her rule, the bridge is almost complete.

But as our path to the other side of the mountain grows, I’m no closer to finding any clues. No matter how far I get, the temple is an enigma, an endless mystery I can’t crack. Even loosening my hold on my magic isn’t enough to track down the girl. I’m running out of time.

If I’m to have any chance at finding the girl, I have to let all my magic in.

The realization haunts me, challenging everything I believe. But the alternative is far worse. Duty before self. Orïsha first.

Taking a deep breath, I release every last restraint bit by bit. The ache in my chest decreases. With time, the sting of magic rises to my skin.

I hope the scent of the sea will hit me first, but like every day thus far, only the scent of timber and coal fills the narrow halls.

When I turn a new corner, the scent becomes overwhelming; a turquoise cloud hangs in the air. I pass my hand through it, allowing Lekan’s lingering consciousness to break in.

“Lekan, stop!”

Shrieks of laughter ring when I turn another corner. I press against the cool stone as the sêntaro’s memories overtake me. Phantom children pass, each squealing and painted and naked. Their joy bounces and echoes, sharp against the rock walls.

They’re not real, I remind myself, heart pounding against my chest. But even as I try to hold on to the lie, the mischievous glint in a child’s eyes champions the truth.

Torch in hand, I move on, rushing through the temple’s narrow halls. For a moment a whiff of sea salt hangs in the air, shrouded in the scent of coal. I turn the corner and another turquoise cloud appears. I race to it, teeth clenching as the new flash of Lekan’s consciousness takes hold. His timber scent becomes overwhelming. The air shifts. A soft voice sounds.

“But do you have a name?”

---