Page 56 of Children of Anguish and Anarchy

A daughter of the Great Mother’s storms…

“Uma filha da forja da Grande Mãe…”

A daughter of the Great Mother’s forge…

“Um pai criado com sangue…”

A father formed from blood…

The triple arrowhead ignites as words rip from Yéva’s throat. Storm clouds circle above my head. A hard rain fills my ringing ears. Screams ripple through the stands as golden lightning crackles free from my hands.

“Before the Blood Moon, all three will unite.

On the Old Stone, the bodies shall be sacrificed.

He will feel the touch of the Great Mother again.

The skies will open once more,

And a new god will be born.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

ZÉLIE

ANEW STORM IS UNLEASHEDthe moment Yéva collapses. An uproar spreads through the crowd like smoke. All at once villagers rise, pushing to break into the town circle.

“Keep them back!” Köa orders.

Vineweavers descend from the stands by the dozens, long green stems whirring around them like the tentacles of an octopus. Scores of vines crawl above, creating a dome over the town circle that keeps the villagers sectioned off.

A thick black blade cuts through the new net of vines, creating a hole big enough for someone to pass through. A villager starts to descend, but the vineweavers react in an instant. Long vines wrap the villager up like a fly caught in a spiderweb.

Beneath the chaos, girls in matching silk kaftans run across the stone floor. Their petite frames move in perfect unison. Each sports a long dark braid wrapped tight atop her head like a rose. Like Yéva, golden pigment coats their throats and their jawlines.

Two of the girls reach Yéva first. They lift her body into a woven stretcher. Another pair help me out of the crystal bath. They take my hands with a delicate touch, wrapping my shaking body in soft robes.

More villagers attempt to cut through the new dome of vines. Agroup of warriors flanks me on both sides. The girls lead me through the opening Yéva appeared in as the town circle devolves.

This can’t be happening.

I stare at my trembling hands. They still spark with remnants of the golden lightning. When the brilliant bolts pulsed through the skies, I couldn’t believe my eyes. My entire body shook with the force that broke free.

A grief I wasn’t prepared to face hits me like one of the Skull’s bombs. Deep down, I prayed my magic would return. If not like the other maji, then at least when I returned to Orïsha.

But with the golden lightning’s presence, I feel the truth. The magic of life and death, my connection to Mama and the other Reapers—this means it’s really gone.

King Baldyr’s stolen it with his medallion.

The skies will open once more, Yéva’s prophecy echoes through my ears.And a new god will be born.

I stare at the glowing metal. It’s already transformed from before. New veins spread out around the rim, digging into my skin.

With Yéva’s words, I finally understand what Baldyr’s after. I know where the last two medallions must go. If he catches Mae’e, he’ll plunge it through her chest. Whatever magic she wields naturally will mutate, twisting to King Baldyr’s will. He’ll harvest both our powers, using the last medallion to transform himself.

But if he does that…

I think of the Skulls’ own magic—the superior strength granted by the bloodmetal they all wield. It’s hard enough to stop Baldyr now. With our combined powers, he’d be impossible to kill.

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