Page 34 of Children of Anguish and Anarchy

“Be here,” I whisper to myself. My legs don’t carry me fast enough. Sharp rocks shift under my hardened feet, and thinning branches nick my skin. So much swirls inside me, I can barely feel the pain.

The moment our ship hit the water, everything went black. There was no way to keep Zélie in my grasp. The raging ocean tore us apart. I couldn’t save her or myself.

I gave in to the dark.

When I awoke on the sandy shores, it didn’t feel real. I couldn’t understand how we’d made it to the island chains. But only Nailah and Amari were by my side.

Zélie and Inan were gone.

Nâo was the first to find us. I couldn’t speak as she walked us to the nascent maji camp. When we arrived, I spotted all the maji who had made it off the ship. I looked for Zélie in every tent. With every newlifeboat that’s been discovered, I’ve waited to see her face. Every single time I’ve been left waiting in the sand.

“Behere.” I repeat the prayer. The palm trees give way to the open shore. Jagged bluffs fill the white sands, and tangles of seaweed line the beach. A group of yellow crabs skitters by my feet.

The hot sun blinds from above. I shield my eyes as Nâo leads another boat of rescued maji down the coastline. I scan the twelve maji for my sister’s face, and something deflates inside.

Despite how hard I search, Zélie is nowhere to be found.

Where are you?I close my eyes, fighting back the swell that wants to burst. We were finally free of the Skulls. I held her in my arms.

I look out to the ocean waters. A steady tide laps the beach. I refuse to believe she’s gone.

After all we endured to escape, Zélie can’t be lost to the seas.

But as the maji make their way toward me, I don’t have time to sit still. The maji’s limbs drag through the wet sand. They’re all so weak they can barely stand.

“Here.” I run forward to meet them. I extend my arms to the two maji who struggle the most. The young girls hold on to me as I lead them away from the beach. When one of them falls, I stop, taking her off her feet and into my arms.

“Thank you.” She squeezes my hand. I offer her a smile in return. I see Zélie in her scars. The thought of this girl in chains makes my stomach turn.

Her small voice brings me back to what we’ve done, reminding me of the magnitude of our escape from the Skulls. I take great care as I hike back up the cliff. I lift the maji over the edge one at a time, watching as the new arrivals disperse through the modest shelter we’ve built.

Eight tents surround our signal fire, each crafted from the strongest branches we could find on this side of the island. Gathered moss binds ourshelters together. Woven banana leaves form our blankets. Stone pots sit under the trees, collecting the rainwater that falls at night. Fresh catch fries over the open flame. It’s more than any of us has had in days.

The strongest in our camp come to meet us. The new arrivals seem taken aback by the nourishment they bring. One maji offers large seashells full of rainwater. Another maji follows with fried swordfish and oysters.

Khani, one of my old agbön mates, rushes forward. A pit forms in my chest as I watch her work. From the day I first met her, she was always a part of a matched set. I’ve never seen her without Imani, her twin.

The sunlight warms Khani’s freckled skin, but I sense the emptiness she holds within. She approaches a maji cradling his arm. She’s focused and gentle, taking great care as she inspects the broken limb.

“Come with me,” Khani soothes. “I don’t have my magic, but I can set your bones.”

Despite the death of her own sister, the elder of the Healers helps everyone she can.

I don’t know if I could be that strong.

I gaze over the camp, taking everything in. Though we’ve found a moment of respite, the toll of those we’ve lost hangs in the air. When I’m still, I feel the weight of my old chains. I’m choked with the stench of our cell. Though my feet grip the sand, I feel myself being pulled under the ocean, pulled back into the pain. Those Skulls locked me up.

But someone else broke out of that cage.

“Come on.” I nod to Nailah. I place my hand on her neck as we make our way back to the coastline. The faint echo of foreign chants fills my ears. I squeeze my eyes shut to keep them at bay.

We walk to an isolated part of the beach and climb over moss-covered reefs. I wade into the warm waters, and Nailah follows me in. She plunges her massive head below the surface, returning with a mouthful of fish.

As she feeds, I pull myself through the tangled roots of a mangrove tree. I push the branches away, revealing the Skull’s crimson axe.

Blóðseiðr…

My skin prickles at the words that run through my head. It’s as if the axe calls to me, daring me to wield it again. In the sunlight, the bloodmetal shines. Crimson stains the rectangular runes carved into its rosewood hilt. My fingers drift toward the handle, and I remember the way I lost control. I see the bodies of the fallen Skulls. With a drop of blood, I know the axe would awaken once more.

---