Page 102 of Children of Virtue and Vengeance

“Zélie, you must rest.” Mama Agba approaches her, feet dragging with hesitation. Zélie’s sorrow forms a ring around her. No one else dares to get close as she howls.

Zélie doesn’t respond when Mama Agba calls her name again. But when our Seer lays a hand on Zélie’s shoulder, Zélie snaps.

“Don’t touch me!”Her shriek pierces my ears like shattered glass. She pushes Mama Agba so hard the elderly Seer stumbles into a column.

“He couldn’t be saved!” Tears well in Mama Agba’s eyes. “You would’ve died—”

“Then I die!” Zélie yells back. “I should’ve died!” Her hands fly to herchest as her face twists with pain. She digs her nails into her skin, clawing as if she could reach her own heart.

“I should’ve died.” Her voice goes quiet and she falls to her knees. “I should’vedied.”

The world feels like it’s falling out from under me. Because of me, Mâzeli’s dead. Because of me, we might have lost this war.

We may have chased Inan’s armies off today, but they’ll be back with stronger forces. There’s no place for us to hide. Every advantage we had is gone.

Zélie’s sobs grow feral, forcing Khani to step in.

“Sedate her!” the Healer orders. “Her body can’t handle the strain!”

Zélie thrashes like a wild animal as the Healers close in. I have to run out of the room as their incantations ring. I can’t take the sight of what I’ve caused.

I can’t stomach the sound of her screams.

Her shriek rings through the swinging doors, and I clasp a hand to my mouth to stifle my tears.

I’ve ruined everything.

And I don’t know if I can fix it again.

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

INAN

IT’S NEVER ENOUGH.

The simple truth is a sword through my abdomen. A spear in my heart. As I stare at the carnage outside theIyika’s base, my hand trembles around the bronze coin. This was supposed to be the place where we brokered peace. Instead, we can’t even count our dead.

“I thought we had them.” Ojore’s jaw quivers and he has to look away. Mother takes him in her arms, shielding him from the slaughter. Bodies lie in the remains of the jungle. The rolling hills are now battered mounds of dirt. Every colossal tree lies ripped from its roots. Jokôye’s body still hasn’t been recovered.

I’ve been training my tîtáns. The general’s last words to me return.The next time we face the Iyika, we’ll be ready for their games. We’ll annihilate those traitors where they stand.

I hang my head, crossing a fist to my chest to honor Jokôye’s spirit. She gave everything to this kingdom. Everything to protect its throne.

The general was supposed to be our secret weapon. A force even Zélie couldn’t beat. Her strength was the only reason I felt powerful enough to enforce peace, but what kind of peace could last when our enemy is capable of this?

“I don’t want to be crass,” Mother says to me. “But there is no timeto mourn. We can’t give theIyikaa chance to regroup. If they retaliate in Lagos…”

Her voice trails off, but she doesn’t need to speak the words. It only took moments for the jungle to become a wasteland. If this had been a city, thousands of civilians would’ve died in our fight.

“Duty before self,” I whisper the vow. If Father were here, that’s what he would yell now. This war has spun out of control. Soon there won’t be an Orïsha left to protect.

I wanted to be a better king, but after all that’s passed, there are no more options. It doesn’t matter if I didn’t sanction this attack. Any hope of peace lies with my dead on this battlefield.

Duty before self.I squeeze the bronze coin.Duty before self.The next time we meet, there will be no reconciliation. Only complete annihilation.

One victor shall stand at the end of this war. One ruler shall sit on my throne. I can’t hold back anymore. I have to take out theIyikano matter what it does to Amari and Zélie.

This war ends with me.

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