Page 77 of Children of Anguish and Anarchy

I watch in awe as she greets attendants in their native tongue. She even moves like the New Gaians, swaying like she’s spent her entire life under the safety of the city’s vines. She’s never looked more at peace. I start to wonder if she’ll ever leave.

“This way.”

We follow Orïsha’s former princess through thick stone pillars, past crystal pools and servants’ quarters. We walk across an entire field filled with grazing elephantaires. We travel through banquet halls set with ceramic bowls of rice and seafood stew.

When we clear the back gardens, Amari points to a boathouse on the canal waters. Sleek vessels woven from vines sit tied to the dock, ready to embark.

“They call them videiras,” Amari explains. “They take over half a year to create. The vines are pulled from the hierophant’s hanging gardens. They’re supposed to fly across the waters.”

“How do we steer them?” I ask.

“You can’t.” We freeze at the sound of our tongue colored with the melody of the New Gaian accent. “They can only be steered by vineweavers.”

Mae’e appears behind us, long arms crossed. Amari’s face falls. My muscles tense as Mae’e stares at the three of us.

“Jörah could have your heads,” she hisses. “Or worse!” She grabs Amari’s wrist. “You know how my people fear you! You could have been killed!”

“Mae’e, please.” Amari reaches for Mae’e’s hands. “I have seen the Skulls with my own eyes. If Jörah won’t send an army, then we need to be there to protect Zélie.”

“Help us,” Inan joins in. “If not for Zélie, then for your people. For yourself. A small force can’t take on the Skulls alone. We need every fighter we can get.”

Mae’e looks over her shoulders. A group of patrolling vineweavers nears. She twists the bangles on her wrist as she thinks of what to do.

“Please,” I beg. “Don’t send my sister out there on her own.”

Mae’e exhales a deep breath. The vines start to slither around Mae’e as she boards.

“Quick.” She looks back at the approaching vineweavers. “Get on!”

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

ZÉLIE

SEA AIR WHIPS THROUGHmy white braids. The crescent moon glows above. We fly through choppy waters, riding one of the New Gaians’ videiras.

Two vineweavers work the shifting vessel we sail across the sea. One weaves the dark vines into sails of different sizes, while another works to shape the craft we ride. Her brows knit in concentration as she plays the vines like the keys of a balafon. One moment, the videira’s hull expands to face a mighty wave. The next, it narrows, allowing us to pick up speed. I press my hand to the medallion as we race across the seas.

This is it.I ready myself for what it will take to end this. The secrets Yéva shared with me on the mountaintop return, rumbling inside me like the stone we stood on.

I see the destruction of Orïsha. I count the skeletons of all my obliterated people. King Baldyr will be there tonight.

This might be the only chance I have to end our war.

You must fight.Yéva’s ancient voice rings in my ears.You must take the power he seeks to harvest from your soul and use it yourself!

I look to the bow of the ship, where Jörah stands with Köa and fiveother Lâminas. The emperor’s wide arms are crossed over his chest. Jörah promised me he would bring his best.

Each warrior is built like an ox. They wait, unfazed by the mission they sail into. They follow their emperor with no hesitation. Their conviction makes me want to believe there is nothing to fear.

But the veins of the medallion buzz in my chest. Yéva didn’t mince her words. I can’t rely on the others.

King Baldyr’s defeat is up to me.

I close my eyes and try to summon the sound of thunder between my ears. Only silence answers my call. I attempt to draw forth the golden lightning that broke free in the town circle, but nothing comes out.

Though I’ve practiced, I’ve yet to summon my power without Yéva’s touch. A wave of panic rises inside.

If I could just use an incantation…

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