THE STEADY ROCKING reaches through the blackness first. I blink open my eyes, meeting paneled wood. A constant creak rings through my ears, in harmony with the patter of paws. My body feels like it’s been set on fire as the memories trickle back in.
“Ojore…”
His hatred sears into my core. It all happened so fast. So fast, it’s like it wasn’t even real.
One moment he was there, sharpened blades held to my neck. The next …
I didn’t know Mother could strike that way.
“Oh, thank the skies.” Mother rises from the front of the caravan. She sets down the parchments in her hand, moving to the side of my bed. She looks strange with the blood splattered across her face.
She places her palm against my head. “How do you feel?”
“What happened?” I croak. I attempt to sit up, but the pain is too severe. Mother keeps me on the bed, perusing her collection of glass vials to bring a sedative to my lips.
“It’s alright, Inan.” She strokes my sweat-soaked hair. “You can rest. We did it.”
Her words carve a hollow pit in the little that’s left of my heart. “We captured the Iyika?”
“Your plan worked.” She nods. “The maggots who marched past Lagos put up a fight, but without their leaders they weren’t a match for my tîtáns. We’ve captured every single one.”
I try to feel the victory, the warmth spreading through my body. It’s over. Done.
The war is won.
But tears rise to my eyes as I squeeze my gut. Ojore …
Skies, he was my oldest friend.
“Do not grieve him.” Mother squeezes my hand. “Do not let that traitor twist your mind! After everything we did for that boy, you’d think he could show a modicum of restraint—”
“Restraint?” I yank my hands back, shooting up from the bed despite the agony it sends through my chest. “You killed his family. You killed him!”
Mother narrows her eyes, coldness sharpening her features. “He attacked the king. That foolish boy killed himself.”
It’s the last sword in my gut. I’m surprised when I don’t feel blood. Ojore saved me more times than I could count. He needed me today.
But instead of backing him, I let him down.
I let Mother sacrifice him for the throne.
“He was right,” I whisper. “We’re poison.”
“We are rulers, Inan. We are victors!” She speaks with such conviction. I hate how much I want to believe her words. To purge myself of this guilt. Remove this hollow pit in my chest.
“You did what was required of you. You stayed strong until the end. You won this war, and now you can rule your kingdom with grace. You can spread the peace you desire!”
She smiles at me, and in her expression, I finally see my truth.
I wanted to be the king my father couldn’t be.
All I did was finish his work.