Page 90 of Children of Anguish and Anarchy
“We take their ships?” Jörah arches his heavy brow.
“We destroyed one ship tonight.” I face the emperor. “What if we could do that to their entire fleet?”
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
TZAIN
KÖA DOESN’T SPEAK WHENwe leave the throne room. The warrior charges through the halls, ignoring the limp in his right leg. In all my time in New Gaia, I’ve seen his power. His confidence. His ridicule.
This is the first time I’ve felt the heat of his rage.
All around us, the people of New Gaia grieve the loss of their warriors and their sacred hierophant. Attendants huddle together to embrace. Servants drop to the vine-covered floor and weep. Even children fall to their knees.
Everything that once felt impenetrable crumbles before my eyes. Inan’s attack plan runs through my mind. We have one last chance to stop the Skulls before they come at us with everything they have. But how am I supposed to fight when I can’t stay in control?
Shame rips through me at the thought of what I did in the cave. I wait for Köa to retaliate, but he stares straight ahead.
When we make it into the Lâminas’ quarters, the entire forces wait in the squares. Köa stumbles to a halt before his warriors. His face twists, and I feel his despair.
“Saiam!” he barks.
All at once, his warriors file back into their barracks. I try to follow along, but he shoves me back.
Here we go.
I’m surprised Köa doesn’t want an audience. Even if tonight were a victory, I would expect him to retaliate. Green light glows around his bloodstained fingers as he reaches into his skin, pulling out his ivory barong.
“Fight me!” the Lâmina demands. He motions to my axe, but I shake my head.
Köa comes at me so quickly, I don’t have time to get out of the way. I cry out as the barong slices my side.
“Fight me,” Köa repeats. “Take out your axe.”
Something wild dances in the warrior’s eyes. Something I haven’t seen before. I don’t know if it’s because he lost his men or because I attacked him and Jörah in the cave. But I won’t let him bait me.
I won’t activate the power I can’t control.
“Köa—”
He lunges and I whip out my axe, catching the blade of his barong. He jumps back and changes form, coming at me again.
The training square rings as his ivory blade connects with the crimson metal of the Skulls. I feel the heavy weight of soldiers watching from the barracks. The trainees’ shaved heads peek at our battle from behind the armory. Köa doesn’t let up. He hits me with everything he has.
“Where is your strength?” The warrior bares his teeth. “Where is your dignity? You vow to protect your sister with the metal of the enemy?”
He strikes again, and I finally understand the source of his rage—the axe I continue to wield. But he doesn’t understand.
I don’t know what power I have without it.
“When you have nothing left—” The warrior swipes at me. “When the world has pushed you to your knees, that is when you learn who you really are! That is when you find your true strength!”
Köa lunges and our blades meet in midair. My arms tremble as he tries to cut me down.
“Has the world pushed you to your knees, Tzain?”
Köa strikes again and I see it—that slow, fateful night. The guards who kicked down our door. The agony on Baba’s face when they broke his back. Mama’s hands reaching out for me, clawing for help. The blood streaming down Zélie’s face.
“Has it pushed you to your knees, Tzain!”
