THE SEARING PAIN forces my mind awake. My head throbs as my lids flutter open, eyes only finding the dark.
The stench of vomit and urine fills my nose. My throat burns as I choke. I try to rise to my feet, but the moment I shift, I trip over chains.
What in Oya’s name?
I wince, tumbling to the wooden floor. Thick metal unlike any I’ve encountered before binds my ankles and wrists. The chains rattle through the silence as I struggle to break their hold.
It takes a few moments before my mind returns to the cloud of white. The gas knocked me unconscious before I even hit the ground. My heart stops as the realization sets in.
I didn’t get him.
We didn’t win.
“No!” I shout, banging my fists against the wooden wall. My breaths hitch as I try to smash the chains binding me apart, desperate to break free.
We had them. I had them. Yet the monarchy stole the victory right out of our hands.
Somehow they’ve captured us, and I have no idea where they’re taking us now.
“Inan!” I roar, though I don’t know if he’s close. I look around me, trying to see who surrounds me through the darkness. Dozens of silhouettes fill the cramped space, linked by the same chains. I think of Mári, Roën, and Tzain. How many of us escaped? How many maji lie with me in shackles?
The floor rocks and I lift my head to the thin rays of light spilling through the cell. I strain to free my body from its fog. I have to know where he’s taking us.
Amari stirs as I step over her leg. I perch myself on her side and use her unconscious body to climb upward. My neck strains as I lift my eyes to the windowpane, but the sight makes the world fall away.
There are no dirt roads to Lagos’s gallows. No charred jackalberry trees.
There’s no Orïsha at all.
All that surrounds us is open sea.
As I stare at the never-ending waves in every direction, a coldness like I’ve never known freezes me from my core.
Someone has stolen us from our land.
And I have no idea where we’re going.