NO …
I count again and again, waiting for someone to announce that there’s been a mistake. We can’t outlast twenty-nine other boats. Our plan could barely outlast ten.
“Tzain,” I shriek as I run to him, betraying all my fear. “I can’t do it! I can’t take them all down.”
Amari follows, shaking so much she nearly trips on the deck. The crew trails her, bombarding Tzain with endless questions. His eyes go wild as we swarm him, trying to focus on any one thing. But then his jaw sets. He closes his eyes.
“Quiet!”
His voice booms over the madness, silencing our cries. We watch as he surveys the arena while the announcer riles up the crowd.
“Abi, take the boat on the left. Dele, the one on the right. Form an alliance with the crews. Tell them we’ll last longer if we target the boats farther away.”
“But what if—”
“Go!” Tzain shouts over their objections, sending the brother and sister running. “Rowers,” he continues, “new plan. Only half of you guys stay at the paddles. Keep us moving. We won’t get much speed, but we’re dead if we stay still.” Half the laborers scramble to resume their positions at the wooden oars. Tzain turns back to us, the agbön champion alive in his eyes. “The rest of you join the cannon assembly line and aim for the boats in front. I want steady cannon fire. But be measured—the blastpowder will only last us so long.”
“And the secret weapon?” Baako, the strongest of the crew, asks.
The brief calm I felt under Tzain’s leadership evaporates. My chest squeezes so tight a sharp pain runs up my side. The weapon isn’t ready, I want to shout. If you put your faith in her, you’ll die.
I can picture it now: Tzain screaming above the water, me holding my breath as I try to push my magic out. I’m not the maji Mama was. What if I can’t be the Reaper they need?
“It’s under control,” Tzain assures him. “Just make sure we stay alive long enough to use it.”
“Who’s ready … for the battle of a lifetime?”
The crowd roars in response to the announcer’s goading. Their screams drown out even his amplified voice. I grip Tzain’s arm as the crew splits. My throat is so dry it’s hard to speak. “What’s my plan?”
“Same as the old. We just need you to take out more.”
“Tzain, I can’t—”
“Look at me.” He puts both hands on my shoulders. “Mama was the most powerful Reaper I’ve ever seen. You’re her daughter. I know you can do this.”
My chest tightens, but I can’t tell if it’s fear or something else.
“Just try.” He squeezes my shoulders. “Even one animation will help.”
“Ten … nine … eight … seven…”
“Stay alive!” he yells before positioning himself by the armory.
“Six … five … four … three…”
The cheers rise to deafening levels as I run to the ship’s railing.
“Two…”
There’s no chance to back out now. We either get the stone—
“One!”
—or we die trying.
The horn sounds and I jump overboard, crashing into the warm sea with rushing speed. As I hit, our ship shakes.
The first cannons fire.
Vibrations shudder through the water, rippling through my core. Spirits of the dead chill the space around me; fresh kills from today’s games.
Alright, I think to myself, remembering Minoli’s animation. Goosebumps prick my skin as the spirits near, my tongue curls at the taste of blood though I keep my mouth closed. The souls are desperate for my touch, for a way to return to life. This is it.
If I’m truly a Reaper, I have to show it now.
“4
mí àwọn tí ó ti sùn, mo ké pè yín ní òní—”
I wait for the animations to swirl out of the water before me, but only a few bubbles escape my hands. I try again, drawing from the energy of the dead, but no matter how hard I concentrate, no animations come forth.
Dammit. The air in my throat thins, going faster as my pulse quickens. I can’t do this. I can’t save us—
A blast thunders from above.
I spin as the ship beside ours sinks. Corpses and shattered wood rain down. The water around me reddens. A bloodied body plunges past me to the bottom.
My gods …
Terror grips my chest.
One cannonball to the right and that could’ve been Tzain.
Come on, I coach myself as the air in my lungs shrivels further. There’s no time to fail. I need my magic now.
Oya, please. The prayer feels strange, like a language half-learned and entirely forgotten. But after my awakening, our connection should be stronger than ever. If I call, she has to answer.
Help me. Guide me. Lend me your strength. Let me protect my brother and free the spirits trapped in this place.
I close my eyes, gathering the electric energy of the dead into my bones. I’ve studied the scroll. I can do this.
I can be a Reaper now.
“4mí àwọn tí ó ti sùn—”
A lavender light glows in my hands. Sharp heat courses through my veins. The incantation pushes my spiritual pathways open, allowing ashê to flow through. The first spirit surges through my body, ready for my command. Unlike Minoli, my only knowledge of this animation is his death; my stomach aches from the cannonball that ripped through his gut.
When I finish the incantation, the first animation floats before me, a swirl of vengeance and bubbles and blood. The animation takes the shape of a human, forming its body out of the water around us. Though its expression is clouded by the bubbles, I sense the militant resolve of its spirit. My own soldier. The first in an army of the dead.
For the briefest moment, triumph overpowers the exhaustion running through my muscles. I’ve done it. I’m a Reaper. A true sister of Oya.
A pang of sadness flashes through me. If only Mama could see me now.
But I can still honor her spirit.
I will make every fallen Reaper proud.
“4mí àwọn tí ó ti sùn—”
With the dwindling ashê in me, I chant, casting one more animation to life. I point to a ship, then give my command.
“Bring it down!”
To my surprise, the animations tear through the water with the speed of arrows. They shoot forward at my target, moments away from a strike.
The water rumbles when they hit, blowing straight through the vessel’s hull. Planks of wood fly like spears, twisting as water rushes in.
I did it.…
I don’t know whether to search for Oya in the sky or within my own hands. Spirits of the dead answered my call. They bent to my will!
The water swallows the ship whole, capsizing the vessel. But before my excitement can settle, falling divîners crash into the water.
I spin, taking in the collateral damage. The fallen crew thrashes for the top, kicking toward the edge of the arena. Terror hits when I see one girl plunge through the water with limp limbs. My chest seizes as her unconscious body begins to sink like lead.
“Save her!”
I push the command out, but my connection to the animations withers like the final breath left in my chest. I can already feel the spirit soldiers fading, leaving the hell of this arena for the peace of the afterlife.
As I kick upward, the animations dive like horn-tailed manta rays, surrounding the girl before she can hit the bottom of the arena. Ashê buzzes in my veins as they pull her up to a floating piece of dirftwood, granting her a chance to live.
“Ugh!” I cough when I break through the surface. Something leaves me as the animations disappear. I send silent thanks to their spirits as I wheeze for air.
“Did you see that?” the announcer booms. The arena erupts, not knowing what took the boat down.
“Zélie!” Tzain shouts from above, a crazed smile on his face despite the nightmare around us. His grin holds a glow I haven’t seen in over a decade, a light he would have whenever he watched Mama’s magic at work.
“That!” He points. “Keep doing that!”
Pride swells in my chest, heating me from within. I take a deep breath before diving back down.
Then I begin to chant.