AS I STAND outside the dining hall doors, I wonder why I bothered to show up. Inside, the halls are filled with drink and song. In the face of Mâzeli’s death, it feels wrong.
It’s hard not to hear his giggle through the crowd. To picture the way he would shimmy up and down the hall. He always lit up when someone cooked súyà for dinner. If he were here with me, he’d probably eat too much and throw up.
Don’t be sad.
I close my eyes, wishing I could take his advice. I know he would want me to walk in. He would hand me a cup of palm wine. We would laugh and dance and he would declare his future as the greatest Reaper to ever live. He was so ignorant of how great he already was.
“You should join them.”
I freeze at the sound of Mama Agba’s voice. As her staff thuds near, my throat closes up. I haven’t seen her since that day in the infirmary. I don’t want to see her now.
“If not for yourself, go for your Reapers.” Her words carry a new rasp. “They are still here, Zélie. They still need you to fight.”
When I don’t react, Mama Agba places herself between me and the door. I have to turn my head away. I still can’t bear to look her in the eye.
“Can we talk?” Her voice shakes. “I have a special bench in the gardens.”
“I don’t care about anything you have to say.”
“Zélie, I am sorry.” Tears spill between the wrinkles in her cheeks. I hate how much it hurts to see her in pain. How much I want to take it away.
“There was no saving him,” she pleads. “Without a sacrifice to bind your connection, you both would have died. I need you to understand—”
“I understand.” I step away. “I know why you did what you did. But I know I could’ve saved him. I can’t forgive you for taking away that chance.”
“Zélie, please—”
I ignore the tightness in my chest as I turn my back on her.
“I should’ve died that day,” I say. “Just pretend that I did.”
Mama Agba sobs and it hits me in the heart. I’ve never heard her cry like that.
I nearly run away from her tears as I move up the stairs toward my quarters. Leaving my room was a mistake. There’s nothing for me out here.
“You’re back.”
I look up to find Roën sitting outside my bedroom door. Two thick bags hang from his shoulders, clinking as he rises. He gestures for me to grab the smaller one.
“Let’s go,” he says.
I roll my eyes and brush past him. “I’m going to bed.”
“No you’re not.” He follows me into my room. “I need your help.”
“Roën, please. Not tonight,” I beg.
“You get to ask for my help whenever you want, but the moment I need something in return, you’re too tired?”
I glare at him and he smirks. “That’s what I thought.”
I frown as he slides the smaller bag over my shoulder. “Will you at least tell me where we’re going?”
“Do you know what Zïtsōl means in my tongue?” He tightens the bag’s strap before marching off. “‘Beautiful girl who asks far too many questions.’”
HOURS PASS IN SILENCE as we ride on the back of Roën’s cheetanaire. The jungle humidity leaves us first, followed by the mountain rock. We gallop across the Opeoluwa Plains, heading north from the sanctuary. I hook my chin over Roën’s shoulder, lifting my face to the biting winds.
“Can you please tell me what we’re doing?” I yell.
“I see no point,” he shouts back.
“Can you at least tell me if it’s legal?”
“Zïtsōl, I never ask you all these silly questions.”
I roll my eyes and bury my face into his back. Forget it. It doesn’t really matter.
The farther away we get from the sanctuary, the better I can inhale. Mâzeli’s absence doesn’t strangle every breath. Beyond those walls, I can think of more than his death.
As we ride, I savor the break, not knowing when it will come back. I wonder if Roën always feels like this, unshackled from the weight of the world. From all those he’s lost.
“Here we go.”
I lift my head as Roën pulls on the reins of his cheetanaire. We stop along a thin stretch of the coast, meters before a rugged shore. Black waves crash against the shallow bluffs, foaming over the smooth and glassy rocks. The silver moon casts a path down the rippling water, beckoning me to come in.
“What’s going on?”
Roën takes both bags and walks across the shore, guided by the rays above. A wind-powered boat sits anchored against the coast, filled with more supplies.
“How far are we going?”
“Again with the questions.” Roën clicks his tongue. “It doesn’t matter. Get in.”
Though I don’t trust him, the prospect of the sea is far too great to pass up. The last time I saw the shore, we were racing from Zaria’s sands. My body itches to float above the rocking water. It only takes a few moments before we’re off. The boat’s hum intertwines with the crashing waves as we sail. I close my eyes and inhale the salt-filled air. I forgot how much I missed the sea. How close it made me feel to Baba.
Roën steers us until the coast is only a speck on the horizon. The wind turbine shudders as it comes to a stop. He throws the anchor overboard before removing his shirt and kicking off his pants.
“Is this a ploy to get me naked?” I ask.
“Zïtsōl, we both know I don’t need ploys for that.”
He unzips the smaller of the two bags and pulls out two strange-looking masks. As he works, I remove my tunic, leaving only the wrap fastened around my chest.
“Listen closely.” Roën fastens the first mask around my head. “Bite down. Breathe in. Don’t let go of my hand.”
I stay still as he tightens the straps, running my tongue over the built-in mouth guard. It takes a few breaths before the oxygen begins flowing. The stale air dries my throat.
“Do everything I do,” Roën continues before fitting the second mask over his head. “There’s no time to hesitate.”
Before I can ask a single question, he pulls his mask over his face. With a grunt, he throws one bag overboard and stretches out his hand. I don’t get a chance to brace myself before we jump in.
I clench my teeth at the ocean’s bite. It feels like crashing through a sheet of ice. Bubbles fly as water surrounds us. I squeeze Roën’s hand, allowing the weight of his bag to drag us farther down.
My breath hitches when we slow to a stop and we hang, suspended in pure blackness. Roën guides my hands to the rusted chain connecting us to the boat above. From the way he squeezes my grip, I can almost hear him saying, “Hold on.”
I squeeze the chains as my breaths start to slow. There’s a strange peace this far underwater. I take it in as Roën brushes my side, hands moving to the large bag. He unhooks the latch and I have to squint at the glow. Orbs of light float up from the opened bag, all connected in a spiderweb of chains.
What is this? I tilt my head at the sight. The orbs fill the water above our heads, shining bright through the darkness. The spiderweb of light brings the ocean to life. I can hardly believe my eyes. A rush spreads through me like the first time I watched Mama do magic.
There’s no place fish don’t swim. Long eels with silver scales zip under our feet. Crabs with metallic shells skitter along the surrounding coral reefs. A giant sea turtle passes overhead, so close it swims through loose strands of Roën’s hair. My breath shudders as I run my fingers over the reflective mosaic on its shell.
The sea turtle swims toward the spiderweb of light, joining the thousands of fish now circling above our heads. The sight is so majestic I nearly lose my grip on the rusted chain. I didn’t know the water I loved could be so beautiful.
I try to catch Roën’s gaze, but he stares off into the distance. With no warning, he snaps into action, removing a crossbow from his pack that’s loaded with a flat hook instead of an arrow.
What’s going on? I drift closer to him, trying to figure out what he’s doing. He grabs my wrist and kicks down, taking us deeper into the blackness.
A speck of light shines in the distance, glowing brighter over time. But as seconds pass, I realize that it’s not glowing brighter.
It’s growing bigger as it races toward us.
I try to kick away, but Roën forces me to stay. It’s difficult to remain still when he places the crossbow against his shoulder and takes aim. The beast cuts through the water like a cannon, so large it changes the ocean’s currents. It lights up the sea with its approach. My heart thrashes when it nears.
For the love of Oya.
My chest constricts as the blue whale zooms overhead, so big I can’t take it all in. The sight is so bewildering, I forget to breathe.
The blue whale fills an entire stretch of ocean, glowing like the bioluminescent plankton of Jimeta’s coast. The light spreads from the tip of its nose to the flukes of its tail. It’s like the fabric of night shines through its smooth skin.
The beast opens its mouth to feed, consuming the tornado of fish that swim above. It devours thousands in one bite. Then it begins its ascent.
Hold on!
I feel the words through Roën’s grip. He hooks an arm around my waist as I wrap both of mine around him. With a jolt, he pulls the trigger of his bow, launching the flat hook through the water, and the projectile connects under the whale’s massive flipper. A moment is all we have before the connecting cord yanks us through the water.
Every bone in my body rattles as we shoot forth. It’s like being pulled by a thousand elephantaires. Water pounds against our skin as we fly through the ocean at unimaginable speeds. The whale’s glow lights up the sea like the sun, illuminating more than any lanterns ever could.
Massive stingrays flash by. Rainbow scales crackle across the water like lightning. It all feels like a dream, one I never want to end.
I wheeze as we breach the surface. The whale arcs through the air, so large it blocks out the moon.
Roën’s arms wrap around me as he lets go of our connection. The beast twists in a circle before crashing back into the sea.
“Brace yourself!” Roën yells over the roar.
The waves rip around us like a tsunami. I squeeze Roën tight as we thrash through the water. It feels like minutes before the ocean returns to its gentle tug.
As the water settles, I spot our boat floating half a kilometer away.
I rip off my mask with shaking hands, gasping for breath. A laugh escapes my throat and I grab my chest, kicking my legs in a circle to stay at the surface. The sea shines with the dying light of the whale’s glow. I stare down until it vanishes, leaving us in the black water.
“That was incredible!” I scream. “The most amazing thing I’ve ever seen!”
Roën smiles as I yell. “That’s usually what my lovers say about me.”
I splash water at him and he laughs, true joy crinkling his nose. It catches me off guard. He almost looks like someone else.
“Why’d you do that?” I ask.
His smile softens and he drifts closer to me, touching my cheek.
“That.” His fingers rest along the corners of my lip. “It’s been far too long since I’ve seen that.”