Page 106 of Wings of Ebony
“Next time, it’s your head,” I say, hoping I sound tougher than I feel. This is not the way. Not my way. I slip the cuffs out my pocket and their eyes light up like Christmas. I clip them on my wrists one at a time, careful to keep the gun pointed at his head. He’s backing away slowly, but practically salivating.
“Get out of here. You’re not getting these.”Please, cuffs, whatever you got, I need it now. I do not wanna fire this gun again.
They turn to go, but keep looking back at me, eyes on my wrist jewelry.
“Keep moving, that’s right!” I grip the gun with both hands. They’re not walking away fast enough.
Whatever power you want to help me find, Ancestors, please—I need it now.
I reach for the warmth, that familiar tickle inside, willing myselfto feel something from the gold on my wrists. Willing myself to hear.
Magic, where are you?
My wrists warm and my heart pounds.I-is it working?A tiny burst of energy tickles my chest.Are they answering?
Suddenly the guys stop and turn toward me, a sick grin on one of the twisted faces. A shadow moves on the ground and an eerie feeling settles over me.
Everything in me goes cold.
“You have what I want, I see.” The General’s voice behind me is like ice on my skin. His smug face is somehow even more gross up close. He practically struts toward me, stepping over fallen groceries and past the blood on the ground like he’s trying to make sure his polished shoes don’t get too dirty.
My magic.I bite down and copper spreads on my tongue.
Even more are behind him, hands full of bottles of liquid with torn rags inside them.
“We can keep this cordial.” The General swirls a ball of fire in his hand. “Or I can burn this place to the ground. Hand over the cuffs.”
These cuffs are the gateway to reaching whatever magic I’m supposed to have. Without them I don’t stand a chance.
I point the gun at him. “No!”
Come on, cuffs… Come on. WORK!
He chuckles. “You think you’re brave, child. So smart. Like you know so much. And yet you know very little.” He steps so close to me I can smell him. There are dozens around us now.
“The cuffs. I’ll only ask this once more.”
I-I can’t.These are my power, my magic, our hope. I study them, glistening on my skin, and they warm a touch.
“A-ancestors, I-I am your Ghizoni daughter and I call on you to help,” I mutter. “P-pleasehear me.”
The cuffs rattle, warming.
I gasp.Something’s happening.
“You won’t cooperate?” the General asks. “Fine. Just need the proper motivation.” His men take off around us.
The cuffs are suddenly piping hot and I reach for a faint tickle in my chest.
It’s happening, I can feel it.
Glass shatters in the distance as his dawgs move from house to house, breaking windows, tossing bottles inside. Flames erupt from one of the windows and a woman bursts through the front door, screaming. Mommas hold their babies, fumbling for phones to call someone.
More screams.
More running.
A keyboard and a pair of TVs fall out an upper window, shattering on the ground. Cloudy haze swallows the fire, some man spraying foam from a red can. The fire’s out, but another’s started as the General’s men make their rounds, looting, ransacking.
