I STARE AT the maps and battle plans scattered across our table as reality sinks in. They’re only parchment and black ink, yet they outline our road to victory. Our troops are stationed outside Lagos. Mother and I are out of harm’s way. Every trap has been put in place.
This time we’re going to win.
“Is everyone clear on their marching orders?” Mother takes charge in my silence. Her low voice echoes through the pyramid ahéré outside Ibadan’s village center, clay padding insulating the stone from the cool mountain air. I stare at the fire burning in the back of the hut as the military officers nod.
“That’s all for now.” I wave my hand. “Send me updates when you make progress.”
As they salute and exit the room, I walk to the fireplace. The heat of the flames warms my skin as I wait to feel a sense of satisfaction, a flicker of relief. But no matter how much time passes, I only feel numb. It’s hard to believe that this really is the end.
“I shouldn’t be here.” Ojore comes to my side when the last officer walks out the door. “Send me back to Lagos. Let me be your boots on the ground.”
“I already have boots on the ground,” I say. “I need you here.”
“Inan, it’s not your job to keep me safe!”
“It is after what happened to Jokôye!” I whip around and get in his face, nostrils flared. “Orïsha will need you when this is all over. I will, too.”
Mother puts a hand on Ojore’s shoulder, breaking the tension between us. “There’s still work to be done. Coordinate with the perimeter guards to make sure everything’s in order.”
Ojore blows out his cheeks, but manages to nod before marching into the night. I wish I shared his burning desire to fight.
I can’t look at our battle plans without picturing Zélie and Amari on the other end. I don’t want to beat them like this. Who knows if they’ll even survive?
“That boy.” Mother shakes her head and smiles to herself. She hands me a cup filled with red wine before lifting her own in a toast. “To protecting the throne.”
We clink our glasses together and Mother takes a long sip. She exhales as she brings the cup to her chest.
“You’re doing the right thing,” she says.
I sigh and turn back to the crackling flames. “It doesn’t feel like it.”
“No cost is too great if it means finally ending this fight.”
To that, I take a drink, savoring the rich liquid. “It feels like this war’s been going on for years.”
“In a way, it has.”
Mother runs her painted finger over the rim of her cup. She stares out the square window, watching the families that line up in front of the village well.
“This war didn’t start when magic came back, Inan. You are only seeing the end of a battle countless have given their lives for. By winter’s dawn, we will have wiped the scourge of maji from this land. Even your wretched father couldn’t achieve that.”
“Mother, what are you talking about?” I grab her arm. “We’re fighting the Iyika. Not the maji.”
“We’re fighting them all. We have been for decades. This war started long before the Raid. It began before you were even born.”
Mother sets her cup down and wraps her hands around my own. The tone in her voice puts me on edge. I don’t like the way her amber eyes shine.
“Did your father ever tell you how close the monarchy came to unifying with the maji clans?”
I nod, recalling our talk on the warship before we reached the sacred island. It was the closest I ever felt to him. The only time I’d ever seen him conflicted about what it took to be king.
“That referendum would have changed everything,” Mother hisses. “In no time at all, the maggots would’ve usurped the throne. This crusade began the moment I realized that I was the only person who could stop it.”
“Stop what?” I tread with care. What in the skies is she talking about? “Burners assassinated the king. They’re the ones who killed the referendum.”
I wait for her to correct her mistake, but she only holds my gaze. “The throne had to be protected, Inan. No matter the cost.”
I yank my hands back, eyes widening as realization dawns.
“You were the cause of that attack?” I whisper. “You killed all of those people just to kill the referendum?”
“I didn’t tell those Burners what to do.” Mother reaches after me. “I only showed our people what would happen the moment we allowed maggots to set foot in the palace—”
I press my hands to my ears, trying to block out the venom that drips from her mouth. The room starts to spin. My fingers go numb.
Those rebels nearly burned the palace to the ground. Father was the only member of the royal family to survive. If not for that act, he would’ve never become the king.
He wouldn’t have retaliated with the Raid.
It could’ve worked. It would’ve worked. There was a chance for a better path.
But Mother destroyed that chance herself.
She’s the reason we’re still fighting now.
“Those Burners started a war!” I push my chair back from the table as I leap to my feet. “A war we are still fighting today! Thousands have paid the price! How can you live with yourself?”
“Keep your voice down!” Mother reaches for my arm again, but I back away from her touch. I search for regret in her eyes. An ounce of remorse.
I find none.
“All the blood on your hands…” I grab my abdomen as my scar throbs. “For skies’ sake, Ojore was there that day. He had to watch his parents burn before his eyes!”
“Those people gave their lives so the true Orïsha could live.” Mother shakes her fist. “When this kingdom is rid of the maji, there will be no pain. No war. You are the ruler who will make sure every sacrifice wasn’t in vain!”
She puts her hands on my cheek, fingers shaking as she smiles.
“Remember what I said. No cost is too great if it means defeating the maji.”