“BROTHER?”
I yearn to say more, but the words don’t come out. I’ve spent so long trying to get to this moment; I didn’t think about what would happen once I was actually here.
With the rough beginnings of a beard around his jaw and the heavy bags under his eyes, my brother looks far older than his nineteen years. If it weren’t for the streak of white running through his unruly curls, I might even think he looked like Father.
“Yours is different.” He blinks at me, a half smile rising to his tired face. His eyes fall closed as he breathes in my dreamscape, tasting the cinnamon-scented air.
He forces me to take in the world around us, the magical space of my creation. A sea of deep blue flowers lie at our feet. A star-filled sky twinkles above.
Though I’ve never set foot in this space, somehow it feels like returning to myself. In here, the air is sweet. The light shines brightly though there isn’t a moon.
Inan bends down, smelling a flower before the half smile falls from his face.
“Did you bring me here to kill me, or do you want to talk?”
He keeps a joke in his tone, but I see the way his fingers tremble. The way he expects everything and everyone to hurt him. He carries the same scars I fight to live above.
My eyes water as I take a step toward him. I break into a run when Inan opens up his arms. I think of how much I’ve missed him. How much I’ve wanted to hold him tight.
Everything that’s passed between us flashes behind my eyes as I run. I see every way we’ve been hurt. Every face that we have lost. Binta. Admiral Kaea. Father. But worst of all, each other.
The moment I place my head against his chest, I don’t know who weeps harder. Me, or him.
BY THE TIME our tears dry, it’s difficult to tell how long it’s been. Even pain is different in this magical space. It doesn’t hurt to cry.
We settle into soft mounds of dirt, picking at the flowers at our feet. So much passes between us, but none of it needs words.
“Are there flowers in yours?” I ask. Inan shakes his head.
“Just reeds.” He holds a lily in front of his nose, plucking its petals off. “Zélie found a way to make forests and waterfalls, but I don’t know how to do more. I can’t even get back into mine. Every time I try, it feels like someone’s driving an axe into my brain.”
I’m surprised at the smile that rises to his lips. Even after all that’s passed, she brings out a different side of him.
“How is she?”
I roll my eyes and look away. “She’s determined to kill you. Completely blinded by rage.”
“Believe me, I know.” Inan peels up the hem of his shirt, allowing me to see the new scar across his side. “But when she’s not out for my blood, how is she? How does she feel?”
I wrinkle my nose, attempting to see Zélie through another lens. We’ve been at each other’s throats for so long. I miss looking at her as my friend.
“She has her clan now,” I speak slowly. “Not many Reapers, but enough. Taking care of them makes her happy. They actually make her laugh.”
“That’s good.” Inan sinks into the flowers, a softness filling his amber eyes. “She deserves to be happy.”
“You say that like we don’t.”
“We’re royalty,” he snorts. “We suffer so everyone else can smile.”
I hug my knees to my chest, hating the words he speaks. I’m tired of suffering because the people of this kingdom refuse to believe in peace. I know there’s a world where we can make this work. An Orïsha where maji, tîtáns, and kosidán can live as one.
I still see the Orïsha of my dreams even if reality only gives me nightmares.
“They’re training to annihilate you.” I exhale a deep breath. “I keep trying to convince the Iyika that peace can work, but they don’t trust the monarchy. They want to put Zélie on the throne.”
“Zélie?” Inan shoots up, brows knitting together.
“They call her the Soldier of Death. To them, she’s a living legend. But if that happens…” my voice trails as my chest grows tight. I want to believe that Zélie would do the right thing, but after all that’s happened since magic came back, that feels naive. She has no interest in unification. Only annihilation.
“What are they after?” Inan asks. “What do they need to end the fighting?”
“Power.” I picture the elders’ faces. “True freedom. They want an end to the torture and the baseless persecution. A real place in this monarchy and a say in what happens in this kingdom.”
Inan inhales, chest seeming to expand with each demand. He rubs his fingers together as he considers my words.
“That’s it?”
I shrug. “More or less.”
“Alright.” He nods. “How do I give that to them?”
I grab onto his arm, eyes nearly bulging out of my head. “You’re serious?”
“If that’s what it takes to end this war,” he says. “I want those things myself.”
“I knew it!” I clap my hands together. Excitement floats like a balloon in my chest. But as soon as it rises, reality dawns. This still isn’t enough.
“What’s wrong?” Inan asks when my shoulders slump.
“It doesn’t matter that we want the same things. The Iyika will never trust that your declaration is real.” I shake my head. “As soon as they hear that I’ve talked to you against their orders, they’ll be too enraged to listen to what I have to say.”
Inan rubs his fingers together, brows creasing as he thinks.
“What if they don’t hear it from you?” he asks. “What if they hear it from me themselves? I could draw up a treaty. Present it to their leaders.”
My heart skips a beat as I realize the sincerity of his words. If the king himself offered a treaty like this, even Zélie would have to listen.
“You’d have to come alone…” I tread with care.
“I don’t have a choice. After what happened at Chândomblé, the royal council would have me executed before they ever agreed to this.”
“But how would you get out of the palace?” I ask.
“Ojore will cover for me if he knows I’m going to meet with you.”
Inan holds out his hand and a tightness fills my chest. This is everything I wanted; the peace I knew we could get.
But as I stare at the lines along my brother’s palm, Zélie’s voice bleeds into my mind.
He’ll do the right thing when it’s easy, but when it matters most, he’ll stab you in the back. You can’t trust him, Amari. All he leaves us with are scars.
“What will happen to me?” I look up at him. “When you were gone, I prepared to be queen. What comes after peace?”
Inan sets down his hand, considering my words. “Mother is a fierce ally, but she’s tainted by the past. Orïsha needs a queen who’s willing to do whatever it takes to make amends.”
My fingers fall limp as Inan opens his arms, extending the invitation.
“You mean it?” I ask.
“We’ll rule the kingdom together,” he says. “The way we should’ve from the start.”
The weight of the world falls off my shoulders as I lunge forward, wrapping my arms around my brother. My heart swells to see him this way. I always knew he could be a magnificent king.
But as he hugs me back, a prickle erupts along my scars.
I pray Zélie allows him to breathe long enough for us to bring Orïsha the peace we both desire.