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This close to Yemi, the only thing I see is her luscious black hair, her coconut-brown skin, so much lighter than my own. Her complexion carries the soft brown of Orïshans who’ve never spent a day laboring in the sun, a privileged life funded by hush coin from a father she never met. Some noble who banished his bastard daughter to our village in shame.
Oh damn. Shit getting real!
I push my shoulders back and thrust my chest forward, straightening though I need to bend. Yemi’s features stand out in the crowd of divîners adorned with snow-white hair. Divîners who’ve been forced to bow to those who look like her time and time again.
I’m ready for it!
Muffled giggles break out among the girls, quickly silenced by a sharp wave of Mama Agba’s hand.
So, clearly the others don’t feel that way about Yemi if they laugh with her at Zelie’s expense.
“Commence!” And instantly I’m on the defensive.
Damn. So much for that.
She speeds toward me hot with fury, her staff only a finger’s breadth from my head. As she rears back to attack,
If her staff was right at her head already, why is she now rearing back to attack?
Before she can pivot, I whip around, ramming my staff into her sternum.
Really? Not taking her legs out from under her, slamming her to the mat? You stick a staff into her chest? What kind of sparring is this?
His gaze shifts to me; though my body drips with sweat, my insides freeze. The guard runs his eyes up and down my frame, a warning of what he can take. Try it, I want to snap, but my mouth is too dry to speak.
He just did. You did nothing but panic. Why are you still talking big? Isn’t she still clutched tight to Mama’s chest?
and the stomping of their metal-soled boots fades away.
How can they walk in those boots all day?
Mama Agba reaches down and tugs on a strand of her white hair, a marker we’ve all been taught to hide.
Hide? How? She just said the majority of them in there have white hair.
They rub their behinds, probably calculating how many lashes my own is about to get. Twenty for ignoring the exercise … fifty for speaking out of turn … a hundred for almost getting us killed …
50 lashes? A hundred? Mama hasn’t killed anyone yet?
Part of me wishes she would abandon us, spare herself the pain. With her tailoring skills, she could probably become a merchant, get her fair share of coin instead of having them all ripped away.
Idkw, but for some reason this paragraph has me thinking that Mama had something to do with what happened and that maybe she’s helping out of guilt.
“It’s Baba.”
I hope the guard didn’t come for her father in retaliation.
The man cries out for help, voice choked and weak. But it’s a voice I’d know anywhere. The voice of my father.
How did he even get out there?
Two fishermen row toward him, frantic as they paddle in their coconut boats. But the force of the waves pushes them back. They’ll never reach him in time.
And her brother doubled back to retrieve her. If Yemi hadn’t have stopped him…
Run by the king’s army, the stocks act as our kingdom’s labor force, spreading throughout all of Orïsha.
The stocks are a mechanism that holds you in place all day in the Sun and all night. How is that a labor force? Unless it’s the one that allows them to walk with the plank on their shoulders/neck.
Like the regal oloyes who can proudly trace their lineage back to the royal families who first wore Orïsha’s crown.
Weren’t they diviners then?
I force a smile and try to pull my hand away, but Samara tightens her hold, as if I am not allowed to let go. Her gold rings press into my skin, each band set with a special stone.
Why would the top of her rings bite into her hand?
She did not want to take it; she feared the price of a gift from the throne. But Father raised the divîner taxes. If she didn’t sell my bangle, she and her family would’ve lost their home.
You just got this girl killed. that was dumb.
“Pardon me,” I say as I step back. “Amari, sit down.” “Mother, I—” “Amari—” “Mother, please!”
Why are you still talking to her?
How could I be so foolish? I chastise myself, swerving to avoid a servant. I should have left the moment that girl told me of Binta’s summoning.
Exactly!
“You were tasked to destroy them,” he hisses. “How did this happen?” “I tried, Your Highness! After the Raid, I tried for moons.
It’s been 11 years!
I watch as he walks to the third floor and pushes a painted black door open. Suddenly I realize where he’s headed. Commander Kaea’s quarters.
He’s no longer “headed”. He just walked into her rooms.
“My gods.” I roll my eyes. “What do you want from me?” “How about an apology?” Tzain snaps. “Baba almost died! And now you want to sit here and pretend like it never happened?” “I already said sorry,” I snap back. “To you, to Baba.” “That doesn’t change what happened.”
So then it’s not an apology you’re looking for…
I open my mouth to take the deal, but something in the noble’s eyes makes me hesitate. If he folded so quickly on the last offer, maybe he’ll fold again.…
OMG. Girl!
“You’re surrounded!” The captain’s amber eyes bore into me. “By the decree of King Saran, I order you to halt!”
So now they know exactly who they are? And is this Captain the princess’ brother?
“It’s over,” the girl breathes in dismay. Tears stream down her face as she kneels to the ground. She drops the torch in defeat and pulls out a scroll of wrinkled parchment.
I want to know how she got found out so quickly.
I sprint faster than I knew it was possible to run.
Does she not realize that when you’re running WITH someone, you can’t keep running faster without holding their hand or something? You’d just risk leaving them behind.
Failure would be fitting. I’m returning with no fugitive in hand.
He doesn’t know it was his sister!?! Well, that explains why he never called her name.
“You said ‘them,’” Father finally says. “Who was the fugitive with? When she left the palace, she was alone.”
So does he know his daughter is the fugitive?
“You will do no such thing,” Mother says. “You could have died today! And then what? Leave Amari to take the throne?”
Lol. Nope. She’s gone.
Father and I are alone. “Do you know the fugitive’s identity?”
Ah, so father knows it’s Amari.
“I did!” I reach into my bag and throw a velvet purse at Tzain. Silver pieces spill across the ground.
That didn’t seem smart.
“W-what about me?” “What about you?” I ask. My hatred for her family flares. Now that we have the scroll, I long to leave Amari stranded in the forest, let her starve or become a hyenaire’s prey.
Wow.
Along with your older brother, I think silently. Your first wife, your firstborn son. There isn’t a noble in Orïsha who doesn’t know of the slaughter Father endured at the maji’s hands.
Conveniently it’s the people who would prevent him from ruling…except his wife and kid…
Destroy the people after our throne. “But if magic was gone…” My stomach twists into knots, but I need to know the answer. “Why go through with the Raid? Why … kill all those people?”
Good question, son.
“She sold him a rare fish from Ilorin.”
Damn.
“Did you cross-reference the ledger?” I ask. Kaea nods. “It shows only one divîner from Ilorin today. Zélie Adebola, age seventeen.” Zélie …
Double Damn.
“But Binta—” She pauses, collecting herself. “I wouldn’t have this if it weren’t for my handmaiden.… It is the only thing of hers I have left.” “I don’t care if the gods gave you that wretched thing.
Smdh. She is the worst.
He lifts Baba’s sleeping body with ease. Baba doesn’t even stir. “I’m going to get our things,” he says.
So why is he picking up their father? If they are leaving?
Mama’s silent for a long moment, staring at the scroll in Amari’s hands. For once her dark eyes are unreadable, obscuring the answers I seek. “Give it here.”
And watch she be a Maji…
She stares at her weathered hands, wrinkled from years as a seamstress.
Are the wrinkles really from being a seamstress… or just getting old in general?
A line of burning arrows cuts through the darkness; each explodes as it makes contact with the reeds and wooden beams of the ahéré. Blastpowder …
How did they get there so fast and why would they do that when the princess could be harmed?
I recognize the cries now. Little Bisi. Her screams cut through the darkness, desperate in their shrieks. My chest heaves as I sprint past Bisi’s ahéré. Will she even make it out of the blaze alive?
She left her in there? Wow.
Tears blur my vision. It’s difficult to make out the face of my assailant. But soon flickering flames illuminate copper skin. Amari.
How did she? Oh yeah! She used to train with Inan as well! I forgot. Thinking she was a fragile princess. Her mother’s fault.
I release Amari and whip toward the open sea. Nailah paddles in the ocean water with Tzain on her back. Trailing behind him, Baba and Mama Agba sit safely inside a coconut boat attached to Nailah’s saddle.
How did Mama Agba get there before her? Didn’t she leave her in her ahéré?
Ice-cold water engulfs our bodies in a rush, soothing the burns I’ve forgotten.
That’s going to leave some scars…
Though the crashing waves grow loud, the memory of Bisi’s screams crashes even louder in my head. Four deaths. Four people who couldn’t escape the flames.
You mean the Bisi you ignored and ran past? Wasn’t she “Little Bisi” as in a small child? Horrible.
“You can’t run from this, Zélie. Not now.” He takes my hands. “This is the second time these monsters took our home. Let it be the last.” “Baba?” I can’t believe his fury.
That was fury? I must have missed something…
He points across the shore to the northern coast, where five figures in royal armor herd the survivors together. The flickering light of the flames illuminates the seal on one soldier’s helmet. The captain … the same one who chased me and Amari. He burned my home to the ground.
I really don’t think he did that. The Admiral may have, but Inan wouldn’t have tried to burn out his sister, risking her life. May have even just been a disgruntled guard stationed there.
“You have to leave,” Baba presses, forceful as a new round of screams rings out. One guard grabs an elderly woman by her hair and holds a sword to her throat. “Baba, no!”
Girl, stop wasting damn time. They are killing people straight out now. Neither one of your groups will be able to get away.
