AS THE SUN sets on Lagos, I finally decide how to respond to the Iyika’s attack on our rations. Right now we’re sitting ducks, but if I could locate their camp, we could launch our own offense.
If I don’t free Lagos from their grasp, we won’t have a shot at winning this war. At this rate, they’ll storm our broken walls or let us starve to death.
I have to act now. Before it’s too late.
I wait until night falls. Until the sliver of candlelight turns to blackness outside Father’s door. By the time all falls quiet in the palace, a half-moon hangs in the smoke-filled sky.
I crawl out of bed, replacing my embroidered robe with a tattered kaftan. A stolen canister of black pigment sits under my pillow. I pull it out and cover the white streak in my hair.
Hopefully this is enough. I shift, inspecting my reflection in Father’s mirror. The last time I wore something so simple, I was with my sister and Zélie in the divîner camp. It all seems so far away, it feels like it never happened at all. Back then I was only a prince. Zélie wasn’t the Soldier of Death.
This is only the beginning! Raifa’s words terrorize my thoughts. All of Lagos will burn!
If I don’t find a way to stop the Iyika, the fall of Orïsha will be my fault.
I crack open my window, inspecting the drop from above. Father’s quarters sit on the fifth floor of the palace, but a series of balconies and railings stand below. I climb onto the ledge, holding the windowsill for support. If I time it just right …
“You’d better be sneaking out to meet a girl.”
I jump at the deep voice, nearly tumbling from the windowsill. Ojore stands in my doorway, arms crossed with a sly smile on his face.
“If you are, I’ll look the other way,” he says. “You could use a nice lay.”
“Then that’s where I’m going.” I look back out at the jump. “You never saw this.”
“Oh, give me more than that.” Ojore closes the door behind him. “You’re about to risk death. At least tell me her name.”
Though he jokes, Zélie’s face fills my mind. I think of her mane of white hair. Her silver gaze. Her dark skin.
For an instant, I’m alone with her in the dreamscape’s waterfall, too ignorant to understand what will come. But I don’t get to sit with the memory before I remember the pain of her black vines choking me to death.
“What happened yesterday was because of me,” I sigh. “Me and this girl. If she’s leading the Iyika now, it’s only a matter of time before they attack Lagos again.”
“So what do you intend to do?” Ojore crosses his arms. “Smooth it over with a kiss?”
“The Iyika are in that forest. If I can find their location, we can attack. I truly think Mother’s magic is powerful enough.”
I try to jump, but Ojore grabs my arm, forcing me to stay back. “You can’t go after them alone.”
“I can’t ask anyone to risk their life for me again.” I shake my head. “Not after what I caused. The Iyika achieved a great victory yesterday, but they also suffered a great loss. No matter their numbers, their guard will be down. This is the best chance I have to locate them.”
Ojore stares at me before releasing a heavy sigh. My brows furrow as he removes his brass breastplate, placing it next to my canister of black paint.
“What’re you doing?” I ask.
“What do you think?” He grabs an old pair of pants off my floor. “Like I said—you’re not going in alone.”
OJORE AND I TAKE OFF, moving under the cover of darkness. We duck past the soldiers stationed around the palace. The guards outside Mother’s door.
When we make it into the marketplace, it takes a full hour to get past Lagos’s broken gates on foot. We pick up speed when we finally reach the charred forest surrounding the capital, beyond the military’s watch.
“All we have to do is find them,” I repeat my plan. “Find them, and Mother can take care of the rest.”
I look at my own hands, wondering if my power could ever match hers. Out of curiosity, I reach for my magic, but my skin burns with the faint blue wisps that fall from my fingertips. I grab my temple as the meager attempt causes a splitting headache.
“It still hurts?” Ojore observes me, and I nod. The more time that passes, the more I worry my magic will always be like this. Before the ritual I could stun my opponents. Now I only seem to stun myself.
“It was never easy,” I say. “But it used to respond when I was in need. I almost grew used to having it around. It was like another part of me.”
Ojore wrinkles his nose, and I wonder if I’ve said too much. But before I can say more, branches rustle to our left.
My heart jumps into my throat and I grab my sword, waiting for the maji to attack. But when a spotted hyenaire runs past, relief almost brings me to my knees.
“Skies.” I press my hand against my chest, attempting to calm my racing pulse. I look back at Ojore, but he still hasn’t moved. A faraway look plagues his eyes.
“Are you alright?” I ask. Ojore’s free hand trembles by his side. It takes a few moments for him to fall back into himself. When he finally does, he turns away from me.
I feel the heat of his shame.
“You need a minute?”
“I’m fine.” He starts moving ahead, but I grab his arm, forcing him to stay still. Moments pass in silence as I wait for him to recover. It’s strange to see him this way.
The Ojore I know always rushes into battle.
He never seems afraid.
“I don’t know why it had to be Burners.” He closes his eyes. “I’m sure the Iyika have Reapers. Cancers. They could’ve attacked with anything but fire.”
He touches the burns on his neck, and his face twists with pain. I can almost see the flames burning in his mind. Staring at Ojore, I wonder if this was part of Zélie’s plan. Moons ago I brought the fire to her shores. I burnt her people. I destroyed her home.
This could be her way of paying me back.
“If you don’t want to do this—”
Ojore holds up his hand, cutting me off. “They’ve tortured us long enough. It’s time for those maggots to crawl back into the dirt.”
The hatred that settles on his face looks out of place, so different from the grin I know. I open my mouth to say more, but Ojore forges ahead. I have no choice but to follow.
Another hour passes as the distance stretches between us and Lagos. It feels like we’re halfway to Ilorin before we finally hear chatter. As soon as it echoes, we stop in our tracks. My muscles tense as we crouch behind a tree, scouting the Iyika’s camp.
“There it is,” I whisper, leaning forward to get a better look. A few dozen meters ahead, the rebels cook a hyenaire over an open fire. They all sport red-tinted armor as they pass around wooden plates.
From the strength of their attacks on Lagos, I expected to find dozens of maji, but only nine sit around the flickering flames. The same rage Raifa ignited in my core returns as I take in the faces of the rebels who’ve made my city burn.
“Where are the rest?” Ojore whispers. “I was told dozens stormed Lagos when magic returned.”
“Maybe this is all they could spare. After all, they only needed enough soldiers to keep us trapped in the capital.”
“Let’s turn back.” Ojore nudges me. “Your mother and her tîtáns should be more than enough to wipe them out.”
We rise to our feet, but when we turn toward Lagos, two rebels stand in our path.
“Drop your weapons!” the older of the two barks, the flames in her hand illuminating her snarl. My lips tremble as Ojore and I exchange a glance. With no other choice, we drop our swords and raise our hands into the air.
“Send word to the elders,” the girl orders. “Tell them we have the king.”
“Why wait?” The other Burner steps forward. “Let’s send them his head—”
Ojore lunges without warning, grabbing his sword from the ground. I flinch as he drives the blade through the rebel’s neck. Blood flies as the Burner falls into the dirt.
“Daran!” The girl’s shriek brings me back to life. I tackle her to the ground, driving my elbow into her temple.
“Attack position!” a maji yells from their camp, spurring the rest of the Iyika to action. My legs turn to lead as they form one circle, chanting in unison.
“Òòrùn pupa lókè, tú àwọn iná rẹ sórí ilè ayé—”
The magi lift their hands into the sky, igniting the red sun. It burns with a vengeance, so bright it covers the forest in its crimson light. The air scorches around us, almost too hot to inhale.
“We have to stop them!” Ojore tears across the forest, racing toward the flames. He runs like a man possessed as he reaches for the throwing knives clipped to his belt. No regard for his life. No fear of his death.
“Ojore, wait!” I sprint after him. Back in Lagos, someone sounds the Iyika alarm.
Ha-wooooooooo!
The siren blares, deafening despite how far we are from the city. Trees catch fire around us as the red sun grows. The flames sear my skin as I run.
Ojore grunts as he races, throwing two knives into a Burner’s chest. A guttural roar escapes the Iyika leader’s throat as her soldier falls. When she spots Ojore, her lips curl.
“Odi iná, jó gbogbo rè ni àlà rẹ!”
Ojore stops in his path as a wall of fire appears out of thin air. It builds in strength, flames lighting the horror on his face.
“Ojore!” I scream as time comes to a stop. The maji swings her hands back to attack. My mind goes blank.
Magic swells inside me, a surge beyond my control.
I raise my hand and my magic explodes with such force I hear the bones shatter in my arm.