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“‘Our’?” Zélie asks.
They have his sister too dummy. It was one thing when she ran away of her own free will, another entirely when she’s been taken.
It’s what he’s already done. But the maji hanging from the tree still scar my mind. Just one of Orïsha’s endless crimes. Looking at Zélie, I finally have the answer to the question I was too afraid to ask. I cannot be like Father.
So, all these kodisans and diviners he has encountered since he awakened his power and only now, seeing her past, does he see what his father has done? He could have seen it touching Kaea! I understand that he wouldn’t have felt the depth of her pain and hurt but he still would have aw the slaughter of his kingdom and its people. Those kodisans also gave birth to and had diviners in their families. They had to feel some type of hurt as well.
You’re just after the scroll.” “Do you see the scroll?” Zélie looks around for where she tossed her pack before our fight, but even when she spots it her face falls. They took her brother. Her ryder, her ally. And the scroll we both need is gone.
That only backs up her point. Besides, why would the scroll be in her pack when it was Amari’s to carry?
But when she can oppose me no longer, Zélie walks back to the boy bleeding in the dirt.
Funny how he hadn’t attempted to sneak away while they bantered forever and had staring and glaring contests.
“Hold him up.” “Why?” “For skies’ sake, just do it.”
She really doesn’t need to hold him up though…
So many masked figures, quick and silent, blending with the shadows. These strange fighters are the culprits.
Wow. You needed to recall all of that to come to that conclusion?
This has to be something different, an attack shrouded in a greater aim. With enough time, I can decipher it.
No shit.
“Without Jailin, we need to go to her with answers.”
Jailin must be one of the ones killed.
“A kosidán and a noble are on a mission to bring magic back, yet not one maji is with you?”
If they were lying in wait to attack, why wouldn’t they see the other two? Amari had been chasing after them AND yelling to them to stop. Ridiculous.
“Good. Tell the truth. How did you find us? How many of you are there? What’s a noble like you doing with a scroll like this?”
So they accidentally stumbled into their territory. And he doesn’t know what the scroll or dagger is exactly.
Because this isn’t the first time he’s held it.… In fact, it might just be the thing he and his fellow masked vigilantes are after.
Clever.
“They started moving. We had to act or they’d be out of our range.” “They?” Zu asks. “There were more of them?”
They would make sense already considering there are two of them.
She climbs with an unyielding resolve, but I struggle to keep up. Slung over my shoulder, the unconscious fighter weighs down my frame, making each inhale a battle. I almost forgot how much it hurts to breathe when I have to push my magic down.
Why push down your magic when you could definitely use it now? Especially after you have claimed to come to terms with the truth.
“Maybe if you hadn’t beaten him half to death, we could’ve gotten more answers.” Zélie snarls. “If I didn’t beat that boy, we wouldn’t have found this place at all.”
No, you may have gotten more if Inan handled it because you were about to kill him with your rage.
point to the areas around the gate. It takes Zélie a moment to see through the shadows. The hidden soldiers are so still they blend completely into the darkness. “There are at least thirty of them on this side alone. And that doesn’t count the archers hidden in the trees.”
So why can’t they see them if they are supposed to be watching the terrain and guarding the camp?
“So we’ll attack at daybreak,” Zélie decides. “When they can’t hide.”
She’s dumb.
“Gombe is only a day’s ride away. If I leave now, I can bring back guards by morning.”
Oh,he’s dumb too.
“Then what do you propose we do without guards?” I push. “I don’t see a way past that wall without a fighting force.”
How about walk up and demand entry. You’re both maji.
“At least eight, maybe more.” “That won’t do.” I shake my head. “They’re powerful.” “There’re too many fighters down there. We need a stronger force—”
How about just sending them in to find Tzain and Amari to start?
“Show me how weak I am. Show me how strong you really are!”
That part. Why isn’t he doing anything?
“mí àwọn tí ó ti sùn—” I chant again, giving three more animations new life. I hope the rush will slow Inan down, but after a few frenzied seconds, he stands alone. Sweat rolls down his forehead, dried soil crunches under his feet.
What is the point of this? She’s only draining herself. She should already know how to do this since she did it at the arena!
“If I can take down twelve at full strength, how do you think fifty fighters will fare?” I press my palms into the cliff. I’ll make an animation he can’t defeat.
This is stupid. If he can’t defeat it, doesn’t that mean it will kill him? Can we just get back to Amari…
The color drains from his skin. His vigor dies as he pushes his magic away.
Stupid.
“Are you sure?” I press, remembering Mama’s stories, Lekan’s pictures of the Connectors. “You’ve never stunned anyone? You’ve never cast a mental attack?”
These are valid, but dumb questions to ask him considering his power was only recently awakened by the scroll AND she knows he’s been fighting it.
“For gods’ sakes, Inan. Have some resolve. If your magic could help save Amari, why aren’t you doing everything you can?”
He sure had no problems using it to try and find her…
When Inan shouts my name,
So these diviner guards can’t hear them? And where is Jailin?
I’ll never get back the dagger or the scroll. I shake my head, fighting the swirl of emotions that wants to explode.
How about use Jailin as a trade? Or at least trying to.
“Keeping my magic a secret is how I keep Orïsha safe!” The air warms as his powers surge. “Magic is the root of all our problems. It’s the root of Orïsha’s pain!”
WTH. Didn’t the author just have him conclude that his father was wrong? That maji should live as well?
“My father is your king.” Inan closes in. “A king trying to protect his people. He took magic away so Orïsha would be safe.”
I hate when authors do this, forget when someone makes a breakthrough.
Maybe you can’t trust my father, but if you could learn to trust me, to trust my guards—”
They aren’t your guards. You are not the king. They are your father’s guards.
“Your people, your guards—they’re nothing more than killers, rapists, and thieves. The only difference between them and criminals is the uniforms they wear.”
That part.
My legs were so short I had to grip the alabaster railing, scooting from step to step.
That sounds so adorable.
Only a young boy’s screams. A loud crack rang through the air—Kaea’s fist against a servant’s face. Kaea wore sharp rings on her fingers; when she smacked the servant, the rings cut into his skin.
She definitely deserved to die.
She must’ve been a baby when the Raid occurred. Where did she learn the incantation she’s whispering now?
This is who she should be telling that they are trying to bring magic back. Not how, just that they are. Kwame likely didn’t tell her. Folack may have though.
Our? I focus on the word. It can’t be a coincidence that she, Kwame, and Folake are all maji. There must be more outside this tent.
Well, duh.
He runs his fingers over the blade of the bone dagger, threat evident on his face. “Is it time?” Zu’s chin quivers as she nods. She squeezes her eyes shut.
So why heal Tzain?
“You are. You push it down, you fight it back. You carry around that pathetic toy.” She stomps over and rips the sênet pawn out of my hand, shoving it in my face. “This is majacite, you idiot. I’m surprised all your fingers haven’t fallen off.”
Wow! His father knew and sent him after Amari and the scroll, knowing the risk!
I take it from her hands, holding it gently, feeling the way it pricks my skin. All this time I thought I was just squeezing too tight. Of course … I almost laugh at the irony. The realization brings me back to the moment I got it. The day Father “gifted” it to me.
So now think, stupid. He already knew what you were. Question your childhood and your “mother”.
This pawn was the only piece I managed to salvage. Shame ripples through me as I stare at the tarnished metal. The only gift he’s ever given me, and at its core is hate.
So he didn’t even give you that! You been running around like he gave it to you as a keepsake or something! That’s sad.
My plan seemed perfect before, but now that it’s time, I can’t stop thinking of all the ways it could fail.
Yes because doesn’t that sunstone shine very brightly?
What if Tzain and Amari aren’t inside?
Why didn’t you sent the spirits to find out?
A SHARP CRACK rings through the air. I reel as Kwame’s fist crashes into Tzain’s jaw. Tzain’s head lolls to the side, a mess of reds and blacks and bruises.
Are you serious? I hope Tzain kills him. I don’t care if they are scared. How could they not see Zelie’s long silver hair as she fought in the moonlight? The man wasn’t even conscious!
Kwame’s face falls. “Her guards?”
“Her guards”? So he knows who she is?
I drop the dagger and pull my fist back,
Did you really need to drop the very important dagger, though?
Tzain takes his first labored step on his good leg.
I thought he stabbed both legs.
The gate is only a few meters away. Our family and the scroll are still inside. I push forward, making it through the gate and toward the camp. But before I can move on, a different sight gives me pause.
So no one heard him call Zelie’s name and came to attack him?
The sight stops me in my tracks, reigniting a fear Father’s pounded into me my whole life. The type of maji that incinerated Father’s first family.
No hun, that’s a repressed memory.
Its flames shine bright against the night, crackling so loud it practically roars. As it floods my ears, the sound twists into screams. The futile pleas Father’s family must’ve made.
Yeah, that definitely seems like a phantom memory.
And it’s a power he’s hungry to use. “Zélie!” I scream. He stalks toward her.
But why? There are no guards. They knew it was two more people in their party. Amari said she had a maji with her. This is ridiculous. This fight is for nothing.
The moonlight illuminates her face, glowing against the puff of white on top of her head. When she reaches us, she stares at the streak of white in my own hair. “They’re one of us.” The comet of fire in the Burner’s hands goes out.
And none of them could see that? I mean seriously, WTF! Especially Kwame, who’s been told this entire time that they were with a maji! Idiots! The lot of them. No wonder a child is leading them.
