AS I MAKE my way to the war room, I feel the change in the air. With the Iyika’s Lagos operations dismantled a half moon ago, the smoke that’s lingered on my city’s horizon has finally begun to clear.
Once again, the sun shines down on us. Bright rays illuminate our efforts to rebuild. Food rolls in by the wagon. Not one villager hungers.
“Your Majesty!” The soldiers standing guard outside the war room salute when I approach. They move to open the black oak doors, but I stop them when I spot Mother across the hall. She calls off her guards, descending into the palace cellars alone. I frown as I follow after her.
She moves like she doesn’t want to be seen.
I try to keep my steps from echoing as I descend the stone stairs. An expansive brick labyrinth with dozens of rooms, the palace cellar seems to hold all of my darkest memories.
Father used to take Amari and me here when we were children. He forced us to spar. I still remember the way her screams bounced against the stone walls when I took things too far.
Where are you? I look up, wishing I could connect with her now. Mother’s convinced Amari’s working with the Iyika, but that’s not the sister I know.
Zélie may want to burn Lagos to the ground, but this is still Amari’s home. She should be here by my side. Not all alone in the world.
“Where’s the rest?”
I stop in my tracks as the husky voice fills the cellar’s damp halls. The boy speaks Orïshan with a strange lilt, as if he isn’t from this land. I peek around the corner to find Mother standing with two masked men clad in black. One wears a snake-like smile. The other has skin the color of sand.
I’ve seen him before.…
I rub my chin, trying to remember where. Something about the foreigner is familiar. I know our paths have crossed.
“You’ll get the rest when you finish the job,” Mother answers, handing over a velvet purse that clinks with coins. “The majacite was an effective start, but it’s only the beginning. And the Iyika are still interfering with my plans—”
“We’ve got company.”
I freeze; all three sets of eyes land on me. Mother’s lips part in surprise. The mercenaries don’t even bat an eye.
“You scoundrels,” she hisses at them. “Bow before your king.”
The foreign mercenary snorts in response, counting the gold in his velvet purse.
“What?” I walk forward. “You don’t bow before the kings of other lands?”
“I don’t bow before anyone I can kill.”
He looks me up and down before turning back to Mother. “This’ll work for now. We’ll be in touch.”
I expect them to make their way up the stairs, but instead they disappear down the cellar’s dark halls. They move with confidence, as if they’ve traversed this labyrinth before.
“What was that about?” I ask.
“Your sister has worked with them,” Mother explains. “I was seeing if they had any information on her and the Iyika.”
“Amari?” I lean in. “Any leads?”
“The look in your eyes is the very reason I didn’t want you involved.” Mother grabs my arm, leading me toward the stairs. “I know she is your sister, but she is also an enemy of this kingdom.”
“She’s also the only reason I’m alive.”
Mother doesn’t say more until we reach the war room doors.
“Remember, your duty is to the throne. Protect it above all else.”
“YOUR MAJESTY.”
Every advisor stands when Mother and I enter the war room. Their abruptness catches me off guard. They don’t sit until I give the command.
I smile to myself, taking my place at the head of the oak table. Ojore rises at my signal, moving toward the vast map of Orïsha that covers the far wall.
“I’m pleased to report that after the valiant efforts of our king, we’ve managed to turn the tides in this war,” he addresses the room. “Since liberating Lagos from the Iyika, we’ve reestablished communication with our bases in the north. Assassination attempts are down, and not one fortress has been breached.”
“Let’s not rush to celebrate yet,” General Jokôye jumps in, braid swinging as she rises from her seat. “While these gains are impressive, the Iyika still pose a significant threat. We still estimate anywhere between two hundred and five hundred soldiers in their forces.”
“Where are we on locating their base?” I ask.
“Closer, but not close enough.” Jokôye gestures to the mountains north of Lagos. “According to the fortresses in Gusau and Gombe, all their movements appear to originate from the Olasimbo Range. We’ve sent scouts, but none have returned. However, there are signs that the Iyika are on the move again.”
Ojore walks back to the table, grabbing two pieces of parchment. “I’m sure you’re all familiar with the former princess.”
Ojore hangs an old wanted poster with a sketch of my sister’s face. It’s strange to see Amari that way. The soft lines don’t capture how she’s changed.
“Her primary accomplice is a maji named Zélie Adebola,” Ojore continues. “Native of Ibadan, and then Ilorin. She was fundamental in bringing magic back. Maji across the kingdom regard her as the Soldier of Death.”
I try to avert my gaze, but I can’t look away from the illustration. It’s like Zélie stares at me from afar, ferocity piercing through her silver gaze. Look too long, and I feel her vines around my neck. Her lips against my ear.
If I can’t even be in a room with her illustration, I don’t know what I’ll do when we’re face-to-face.
“Do we know where they’re headed?” I ask.
“Our best guess is Lagos,” Jokôye answers. “They eluded our forces after an insurgent rally in Zaria, but today they were spotted moving south.”
“They’re coming here?” The color drains from Mother’s face. “We’re still a half-moon from completing the new wall.”
“What about the moat?” Captain Kunle dabs the sweat at his temple. “It’ll take weeks before the Tiders can fill it!”
I put my fingers to my ears as panic fills the room. Something doesn’t add up.
“Admiral, they’re already south of Lagos. What would they gain by doubling back?”
“We believe this route gives them direct access to the palace.” Ojore illustrates the winding path. “I’ve taken the liberty of moving more troops to Lagos’s borders, but we’re going to need significant resources to stop them.”
I scrunch my nose, extending their path in my head. The line takes me straight into the Funmilayo Jungle.
Right through an ancient temple.
I slap my hands against the oak table, rising to my feet.
“I know where they’re going!” I run to the map, tapping the old canvas. “There’s an ancient temple for the maji located here. It has the capability to amplify their powers.”
Mother’s face falls. “If they retrieve what they’re searching for, they could become too powerful to defeat.”
“Not if we intercept them,” I say. “If they’re coming from the mountains, we’re closer to the temple. Leave tonight, and we may be able to catch them!”
“Can you really face your sister?” Ojore voices the question no one else will. Gazes flick between me and Mother before finding any excuse to look away.
I walk over to the wanted posters, gazing at Amari’s face. I think of how she challenged Father for me. If she hadn’t intervened, I probably would have died.
“It would be a lie to say I could hurt my sister.” I face the room. “But I can take her in. Especially when she and the Iyika pose a threat to the kingdom.”
Mother’s lips pinch, but she nods to me in respect.
“What about the others?” Ojore asks. “Do we aim to kill?”
I glance back at the posters, this time stopping on Zélie’s face.
“Let’s focus on taking them down first,” I decide. “Once they’re captured, we can figure out a proper punishment.”