Page 32 of Children of Virtue and Vengeance

“HOLD UP!”

I stifle a grunt of frustration and lean against a canopy tree at Roën’s command. Nailah yawns and stretches out by my side, her injured paw still too fragile for us to ride her. We pause amid the thinning stretch of rain forest lining the mountainside near the center of the Olasimbo Range. Though we’re more than a half-moon from meeting theIyikain Ibadan, each delay feels like a lifetime.

“Don’t give me that look,Zïtsol.” Roën wags his finger in my face before walking ahead. “We’re about to lose our cover. I need to stop and do a check.”

I tap my foot as he takes the lead, making his way through the thinning trees. Rich greens surround us, coating every sloping branch and tangled vine. As the rain forest breaks, the grass-covered slopes expand, stretching beneath the mountain peaks. The hot sun shines down on them from above, rays bright in the cloudless sky.

“All clear?” I call after Roën. “Or should we wait while you pat down the sheep?”

“I’m sure these maji wouldn’t have minded traveling with someone like me.”

He steps away from a dip in the wild grass, and my chest grows tight.Two maji lie at his feet, neither one much older than I am. Dried blood stains their worn tunics, darkest around the blade wounds in their chests. The burns along their skin point to the majacite Nehanda’s soldiers must have used to stop them.

“Don’t stare.” Tzain nudges my arm, moving straight ahead. Amari follows after him, lightening my load by taking Nailah’s new reins.

“From the gods comes the gift of life.”I bend down.“To the gods, that gift must be returned.”Though I don’t want to feel magic’s rush, I whisper the words of theìbùkún, laying the poor souls to rest. My eyes sting as the memories of Baba’s death resurface, but I push them down. Roën crosses his arms as I rise.

“That’s the first time I’ve seen you do magic since the ritual.”

I brush past him without saying a word, covering the maji with palm ferns before forging ahead.

“Really? This again?” He falls in step by my side. “Are we just going to pretend you didn’t call after me when I left?”

“Are we just going to pretend you didn’t leave at all?”

Roën pushes his tongue into the side of his cheek, a coy smile dancing across his lips.

“At least tell me what changed,” he says. “I thought you wanted to be free.”

I turn my focus back to the mountain path, stepping over the thick stones littered throughout the wild grass. At times my thoughts still drift to the seas. To the lands that could be waiting beyond all this pain. But each time, Inan’s face returns, keeping me anchored to Orïsha’s soil.

“My plans haven’t changed,” I say. “I just need to take care of something first.”

“I see.” Roën smiles. “I hope that something is savoring his last breath.”

He winks and I glare back at him. I hate the way he cuts through mywords. It’s like when Inan would read my mind, but with Roën there’s no magical cause.

“Why’d you really come back?” I ask. “You would’ve had an easier time selling us out.”

“Honestly?” Roën cups my chin, stopping me in my tracks. Though I don’t want to feel anything, his touch makes an ember flicker in my stomach. It’s like when he brushed my cheek after the rally. I can still remember the scratch of his callused fingers. There was so much said in that simple caress. I don’t know what to make of it now that he’s back.

“When I heard what happened, I couldn’t take it.” He shakes his head. “I knew you liked me, but to ram yourself into a tree at the very thought of living another day without me?”

Roën laughs as I shove him away, mischief twinkling in his stormy eyes.

“You’re impossible.”

“Don’t be embarrassed, love. You’re far from the first woman or man to lose the will to live in my absence—”

“Zélie!”

Our heads snap to the left as Tzain’s yell echoes through the mountains. The crack of splitting rocks fills the air. Hairs rise on the nape of my neck. Roën grabs my arm, but I take off in a sprint before he can hold me back. More shouts ring as my feet pound against the wild grass.

“Up there!” Amari points when I skid around the bend.

Almost a full kilometer up, a troop of guards looks down at us from the edge of a cliff. The sun glints off their golden armor. For a moment we all stand still.

I scramble back when three of the guards jump, skidding down the towering mountain ledge. The tîtán Grounders move like lightning, pushing through the gravel as if it were snow.

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