Page 110 of Ashes of Gold
“I do not have much time in this form, dear one,” she says, her skin is deep ebony so radiant, I’m sure she gives the stars their light. “What is it you have called upon us for? Make it known.”
“I… I…” I try to look around, but like a dream, nothing I tell myself to do is working. I can’t take steps. I can’t turn my head. I can hardly breathe. “I… The magic you gave me. The magic you gave our people. It has been stolen.” Lightning crackles. “A-and we need you to restore it, so we can take our land back from the thieves.”
The Ancestor touches her crown, easing it more upright on her head, before clasping her hands. “Jelani, I am sorry but we cannot restore the magic.”
Her words knock the wind out of me. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. “No, w-wait, but y-you gave it.” Blood drains from me and I dig a nail into my palm. “Th-this was my plan. This was the entire plan.Y-youhave to fix this. I…”
“Listen closely, because time is short.” She takes my hand in hersagain and it is like holding fire. “The magic we gave was a gift from the gods, woven into our blood. It flowed through us; it even fertilized the soil where our people were buried. So much so that the ground burst forth with vegetation rich in magic. We’d eat it and it would nourish our abilities even further. It helped us strengthen our control over our powers, helped us find synergy. Magic saturated our corner of this island.”
I gaze at the ground; it pulses as she speaks and I can almost picture the way they lived.
“But any remnants of what used to be lie dormant, like seeds in winter.”
She coils one hand over the other and a ball of onyx appears there, like the one the Grays wear. I reach for it but it’s nothing more than air.
“Understand me, untilthisstolen magic”—she indicates the stone—“is removed from the traitors and returned back to the very soil it came from, there’s no magic left to give.”
“B-but…”
“You see, Jelani, the magic wasn’t forthem. It was forus.And the moment its purity was broken by binding to those for whom it wasn’t meant, it caved in on itself. Simple self-preservation. Magic is alive. It preserves, defends. You probably feel it moving, searching, humming inside you. But as living things live, they alsodie.”
I stagger, steadying myself, her words a dagger.
“Fortunate for us, our magic is not dead, not entirely… sleeping, more like.”
Something tinges inside me and my knees feel weak.
“Magic is home inourpeople. It draws strength fromusas we draw strength from it. And as long as it’s being forcibly used by others, itwill never be what it was for our people again.” Her hand, fire, cups my cheek. “Jelani, you are the gifted exception. The final arrow in the quiver. But even your hands have only had a taste of what we are truly capable of. Can you move mountains? Do your fingers command the wind?”
I shake my head.
She shows me her palms. “Mine once did. Return your Ancestors’ magic stored in that onyx to the earth. Let the soil soak in its richness, and it will flow fiercely through our people once again. Your heart for humanity, the rare tenacity you possess, the way you balance justice and mercy. You’re the perfectly balanced blend of the best parts of my saisa and coquella, Yakanna and Beerchi.”
Perfect. No, not me.
“Your perfection isn’t in that you don’t make mistakes, it’s how you grow from them,” she says, as if she can read my mind. “You have to fix this, dear one. You, Jelani. No one else. Our time is done. Trust yourself. Remember,asthe onyx is returned, the magic will be restored.”
“O-okay, b-but…” Wind howls so loudly it drowns out my words as she blows away like dust. I blink several times, but the sky has cleared. In moments the thunderclouds evaporate, and the sky is empty as if it were all a dream. Golden dirt is caked under my nails, so it had to be real.
“Th-they can’t help. They can’t—” The words choke me. I stare at everyone who is also staring at me. They all heard the Ancestors say thatI’mthe exception. It has to beme. My heart rams in my chest and I try to gulp down air, but I can’t take it in fast enough.
I can’t…
This can’t…
I rake my hands through my hair and run.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
RUE!”
It’s Julius, but I keep charging ahead, back to the shade of the jpango trees. Away from all the eyes, expectations. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
“Dammit, Rue, slow down. I’m supposed to be the track star.”
The ground softens under my feet when I slip beneath the canopy. Moonlight hides and I can barely make out my hands in front of my face. I pause for a breath, panting. Where am I going? Where can I truly run to on this island? I press my back into a thick trunk and slide down it, hugging my knees, itching to breathe. But the forest’s leaves, the blanket of darkness, this island. I claw at my neck.
“Jelani?” The voice is as small as she is. Rojala’s eyes are barely visible between the branches. Leaves crunch as she makes her way to me, and I wipe my face on my sleeve.
