Page 128 of Children of Virtue and Vengeance

“Zïtsol.” He forces the word out through his final gasp. He grips me with the last strength he has.“Home.”

Confusion racks me as his fingers fall limp. But when the meaning hits, my body turns to stone.

Home…

That’s what it’s meant this entire time.

“Roën!” I scream, but he doesn’t move. His eyes won’t open. His chest doesn’t rise.

“Roën!” My shriek echoes. “Roën, please,” I whisper into his hair. But he’s not here.

He’s gone.

Grief tears a hole inside my heart. My bloodied hands fly to my chest. Though there’s air, I can’t draw breath. But when my tattoos shine with dim light, I see a flicker of gold in Roën’s heart. It’s smaller than a seed.

Smaller than a tear.

As it fades before my eyes, I think of myìsípayá: the gold tether of life intertwining with the purple. I thought Oya was trying to show me the truth behind the cênters and the source of their magic. But what if I was the purple light?

What if the gold was Roën all along?

“Oya, please.” The tattoos on my skin flicker to life again. For the first time, they don’t shine in gold. They shine with Reaper purples.

The glowing seed is the only sign of life in Roën’s body, but it’s enough. It still holds a remnant of life.

“? t?nná agbára yin.”

Particles of purple light crystallize before my chest. They weave together like my shadows of death, forming a broken, twisting thread.

I push though I can hardly keep myself conscious. The thread moves like a knife, piercing through Roën’s chest as his body rises above the stone. I feel the moment it digs into his heart. My teeth clench as my own heart strains.

“? t?nná agbára yin,”I gasp.“? t?nná agbára yin!”

The thread takes all that I have, though there’s barely life to give. The world blurs out of focus as the moonstone’s light dims.

Roën’s body floats back to the ground and my body falls with him, slumping over his corpse. I press my ear to his chest. The blackness closes in.

Oya, please…

My vision goes first. Then my body hangs limp. Sound starts to disappear, but as it goes, I hear it. Soft like the ocean tides.

The fragile beating of his heart.

Now connected to mine.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR

AMARI

FOR THE FIRST TIMEsince his death, I wish Father still lived. Chained up in the palace cellars. Somewhere I could talk to him.

As the sun breaks over the mouth of the cave, the voice in my head isn’t enough. I need someone to give me answers. Tell me which path is right.

“We need to go after them!” Tzain breaks through my thoughts. Concern sharpens all the hard lines in his face. He doesn’t beg to follow them as he has every hour. This time he states his command. “Something happened.”

“Don’t jump to conclusions!” I snap. I can’t have Tzain unravel on me now. I’m already unraveling on myself.

What do I do?

---