THE SKY LIGHTENS to pinks and tangerines as sunrise nears. Soft clouds move across the colors with ease, almost peaceful despite what today could bring. I’m eternally grateful for the navy’s armor when I grab the helmet that obscures my face. I put it on and tuck in my braids as Roën approaches with his mischievous grin.
“I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to chat last night.” A fake pout fills his face. “If this was about your hair, you should know I’m an excellent braider, too.”
I narrow my eyes, hating that the uniform suits him. He wears the armor with confidence; if I didn’t know better, I would think it was actually his.
“Nice to see a day of impending death hasn’t dampened your spirits.”
Roën’s smile widens. “You look good,” he whispers as he fastens his helmet. “Ready.”
With a sharp whistle he rallies our crew and everyone huddles up. Amari and Tzain push their way to the front, followed by Kenyon and the four members of his team. Tzain gives me an encouraging nod. I force myself to nod back.
“I interrogated Saran’s soldiers last night.” Roën’s voice rises above the sea wind. “They’ll be stationed around the perimeter of the island and within the temple itself. There’s no way to avoid them when we dock, but if we don’t draw attention to ourselves, we shouldn’t arouse suspicion. They’re expecting Zélie to storm in with a maji army, so as long as we’re in their armor, we’ll maintain the element of surprise.”
“But what about when we get inside the temple?” Amari asks. “Father will order his soldiers to shoot at the first sign of a disturbance. Unless we divert their forces, they’ll attack the moment they see us with the sacred artifacts.”
“When we’re near the temple, we’ll stage a distant assault to divert their forces. That should free Zélie up for the ritual.”
Roën turns to me and gestures, giving me the floor. I step back, but Amari pushes me forward; I stumble into the center of the crowd. I swallow hard and clasp my hands behind my back, desperate to sound strong.
“Just stick to the plan. As long as we don’t call attention to ourselves, we should make it to the temple alright.”
And that’s when you’ll see I can’t do it. That the gods have abandoned me once again. That’s when Saran’s men will attack.
That’s when we’ll all die.
I swallow again, shaking away the doubts that make me want to run away. This has to work. Sky Mother has to have a plan. But the prodding eyes and anxious mutters tell me my words aren’t enough. They want a rousing speech. But I need one myself.
“Gods…,” Tzain curses.
We whip around to the small fleet anchored around the island coordinates. As the sun peeks over the horizon, the island materializes before our eyes. At first it’s transparent like a mirage out at sea. But as the sun rises, the island solidifies into a large mass of fog and lifeless trees.
A warmth spreads through my chest, strong like when Mama Agba cast magic again for the first time. In that moment I felt so much hope. After all these years, I stopped feeling so alone.
Magic is here. Alive. Closer than it’s ever been. Even if I can’t feel it now, I have to believe I will feel it again.
I entertain the thought, pretending magic swirls through my veins, stronger than ever before. It would blister today, burning as hot as my rage.
“I know you’re scared.” Everyone turns back to me. “I’m scared, too. But I know your reason for fighting is stronger than your fear, because it’s led you here. Each of us has been wronged by the guards, by this monarchy that’s sworn to protect us. Today we strike back for us all. Today we make them pay!”
The shouts of agreement ring through the air; even the mercenaries join in. Their cries bolster my spirits, unlocking the words trapped within. “They may have a thousand men in their army, but not one of them has the support of the gods. We have magic on our side, so stay strong, stay confident.”
“And if everything goes to hell?” Roën asks when the cheers die down.
“Strike,” I answer. “Fight with everything you’ve got.”