Page 47 of Children of Virtue and Vengeance

It just feels wrong.

“You’re scared.” Tzain kneels in front of me. “But there’s no one better for this job. Say what you want, but I remember the way your eyes lit up after you and Mama watched that Reaper elder ascend.”

The memory he speaks of comes flooding back in. I see Mama’s beautiful dark skin; her crown of thick white hair.

The last time a new Reaper elder was chosen, we traveled all the way to Lokoja to witness his ascension. Mama squeezed my hand as the ritual started. Her palms always smelled of coconut oil.

I remember holding my breath when the ascension site lit up with a deep purple light, the sign of Oya’s presence. Black smoke filled the ritual grounds, obscuring the new elder from our view.

“What’s happening?” I whispered.

“His ìsípayá,” she whispered back.“Every clan elder receives a piece of their god’s wisdom when they ascend. The prophecy is meant to help them lead their clans.”

“I want an ìsípayá!” I said, and Mama laughed.

“Me too.” She held me tight. “One day we might get one for ourselves.”

I didn’t know what it meant to be an elder back then. I just knew that whatever Mama wanted, I had to have.

“You can do this.” Tzain helps me to my feet. “I know it. You just need to prove it to yourself.”

I nod and exhale a deep breath, looking back to the temple door.

“Okay,” I say. “Let’s go.”

AHUSH FALLSover the crowd of maji as Mama Agba steps into the stone circle at the base of the third mountain. Almost eighty members of theIyikawatch from the stone’s borders, accompanied by the divîners in their clan. Mama Agba looks like a goddess in a tall, silver headwrap andmatching patterned cloak. The shining silk glides behind her as she walks to the center of the circle, white paint highlighting her brow and tracing her cheekbone.

“The gods are smiling today,” she addresses the crowd. “Your ancestors smile as well. Each time a new elder rises to lead their clan, we breathe life into what our enemies tried to destroy!”

Cheers echo throughout the crowd and I have to inhale to take it all in. It’s a sight I wish I could carry to Baba’s grave. For the first time, his death feels like it means something.

“Before the Raid, the role of elder was reserved for the most powerful maji in a clan,” Mama Agba continues. “If one believed that title belonged to them, they had the right to challenge for the chance to prove it. Alternatively, an elder could recognize a new power and step aside. It has been brought to my attention that is what one of you would like to do now.”

Mama Agba clasps her hands together and turns to the three Reapers gathered in the far corner. Though it’s the smallest clan at the sanctuary, seeing that many Reapers in one place makes my throat tight. A few moons ago, there were no Reapers in Orïsha at all.

“Mâzeli Adesanya,” Mama Agba declares. “Elder of the Reaper clan. You are faced with a challenger. Do you want to concede or accept?”

Mâzeli puffs out his chest as he walks across the bloodstone. A black silk robe hangs off his shoulders, its dark base accented with Reaper purples.

“I happily concede.” He bows in my direction. “Who else could lead the Reapers than the Soldier of Death herself?”

His call makes hollers erupt throughout the mountain. The shouts should bolster me, but instead sweat gathers along my temples. It feels like the world presses down on my shoulders as I rise. Every footstep I take across the bloodstone stretches into an eternity.

I think of my fantasy of sailing away. I feel the burn of my scars. But as I meet Mama Agba in the center, I can’t deny the hunger in my heart.

“Zélie Adebola.” Mama Agba’s voice thickens with emotion as I kneel before her. Her mahogany eyes sparkle with tears; I have to dig my nails into my palm to keep my own in.

“?é o gba àw?n ènìyàn wònyí gégé bí ara r???é ìw? yóò lo gbogbo agbára r? láti dábòbò wón ni gbogbo ònà?”

Do you accept these people as your own?

Will you use your strength to protect them at all cost?

The burden of her questions expands in my chest as I look to the Reapers gathered around Mâzeli. Bimpe watches with fingers pressed to her lips. Mári frantically waves her hand, almost immune to the gravity of the moment. Though I’ve only known them for a few hours, they already feel like blood. Like home. Being around them feels more right than anything has felt in years.

“What do you say?” Mama Agba asks.

I square my shoulders and nod. For the first time since the Raid, I see our potential. The beauty in what we could become.

---