Lula flashes her serrated fangs but quickens her pace. She weaves in and out of the marula oak trees, dipping under the baboonems skittering along the fruit-covered branches.
I stroke her spotted fur in gratitude when we catch up to Kaea. She lets out another low growl but rubs her face against my hand.
“Tell me,” Kaea says when I’m close. “What did the villager tell you?”
Again? Skies, she’s relentless.
“It doesn’t add up. I need to hear it once more.” Kaea reaches behind her panthenaire to release her red-breasted firehawk from its cage. The bird perches on the ryder’s saddle as Kaea fastens a note to its leg. Likely a message for Father. Following the scroll’s trail south. Also, I suspect Inan is a maj—
“He claimed he was a mapmaker,” I lie. “The thief and Amari visited him after they escaped Lagos.”
Kaea raises her forearm, and the firehawk spreads its wide wings before taking to the sky.
“How did he know they were going south?”
“He saw them charting their path.”
Kaea looks away, but not before I catch the doubt glimmering in her eyes. “You shouldn’t have interrogated anyone without me.”
“And the village shouldn’t have burned!” I snap. “I fail to see the point in obsessing over what should or shouldn’t have happened.”
Relax, Inan. It’s not Kaea I’m mad at.
But her lips are already pinched. I’ve pushed her too far.
“Sorry,” I sigh. “I didn’t mean that.”
“Inan, if you can’t handle this—”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you?” She trains her eyes on me. “Because if you think I’ve forgotten about your little episode, you’re sadly mistaken.”
Curse the skies.
Kaea was there the first time magic attacked me on the shores of Ilorin. The night it filled my head with sounds.
My gut clenches as I push the evil further down.
“I won’t have the prince die on my watch. If that happens again, you’re headed back to the palace.”
My heart seizes so hard an ache ripples through my chest. She can’t send me home like this.
Not until the girl dies.
I’ll make you a deal. Her voice crawls back into my mind. It’s so vivid it’s like she’s whispering in my ear. Leave me alone and I’ll keep your little secret. No one has to know you’re a dirty little—
“No!” I shout. “It wasn’t an episode. On the beach. I—I—” I take a deep breath. Relax. “I thought I saw Amari’s corpse.” That’s it. “I was ashamed at how much it rattled me.”
“Oh, Inan…” Kaea’s hardness fades. She reaches over and grabs my hand. “Forgive me. I can’t imagine how horrific that must have been.”
I nod and squeeze her hand back. Too tightly. Let go. But my heartbeat quickens in my chest. A turquoise cloud seems to radiate from my chest, billowing like pipe smoke. The smell of rosemary and ash returns. The shrieks of the burning girl surface again.…
The heat of the flames licks my face. Sweltering smoke fills my lungs. With each second the fire crawls closer to my body, eliminating any chance of escape.
“Help!”
I drop to the ground. My lungs reject the rancid air. My feet get caught in the blaze—
“HELP!”
I jerk on Lula’s reins. She lets out a menacing growl as we come to an abrupt stop.
“What is it?” Kaea whips her head around.
I dig my hands into Lula’s fur to mask their tremble. I’m running out of time. The magic’s getting stronger.
Like a parasite feeding on my blood.
“Amari,” I choke out. My throat burns as if it’s still full of smoke. “I’m worried. She’s never left the palace before. She could get hurt.”
“I know,” Kaea soothes me. I wonder if she speaks the same way to Father when his temper flares. “But she’s not completely helpless. There’s a reason the king spent so many years making sure you could both wield a sword.”
I force a nod, pretending to listen as Kaea continues to talk. Again, I shove my curse down, ignoring the way it makes the air around me thin. But even as my magic subsides, my heart still pounds.
The power burns inside me. Taunting. Tainting.
Kill her, I remind myself.
I’ll kill the girl. I’ll kill this curse.
If I can’t—
I force a deep breath.
If I can’t, I’m already dead.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
AMARI
I USED TO DREAM of climbing.
Late at night, when everyone in the palace had gone to sleep. Binta and I would run through the painted halls by torchlight, skidding over the tiled floors in our trek to Father’s war room. Hand in hand, we drew the torch over the handwoven map of Orïsha, a map that seemed as large as life itself to our young eyes. I thought Binta and I would see the world together.
I thought if we left the palace, we could be happy.
Now as I cling to the side of the third mountain we’ve climbed today, I question why I ever dreamed of ascending anything higher than the palace stairwell. Sweat clings to my skin, soaking through the rough cloth of my black dashiki. An endless swarm of mosquitoes buzz and sting at my back, feasting because I can’t bear to let go of the mountain long enough to swat them away.
Another full day of travel has passed, along with, thankfully, one night of restful sleep. Though the weather warmed once we left Sokoto and made our way farther into the jungle, I felt Tzain lay his cloak over me again just as I began to fall asleep. With our new supplies, eating comes easy. Even foxer meat and coconut milk start to taste like seasoned hen and tea from the palace kitchen. I thought things were finally improving, but now my chest is so tight I can barely breathe.
This late into the day we’ve ascended thousands of meters, giving us startling views of the jungle beneath. Greens of all hues cover the land, creating endless canopies beneath our feet. A rushing river curves through the tropical brush, marking the only water in sight. It grows smaller and smaller as we climb, shrinking until it’s only a thin blue line.
“How can anything exist up here?” I ask in between pants. I take a deep breath and give the rock above my head a firm pull. Earlier in our journey, I wouldn’t test my handholds. My scraped knees are a reminder not to repeat that mistake.
When the rock holds firm, I hoist myself farther up the mountain, wedging my bare feet into a crack. The urge to cry wells up inside me, but I force it down. I’ve already hidden my tears twice. It would be humiliating to weep again.
“She’s right,” Tzain calls from behind me, searching for an area wide enough for Nailah to clamber up. Their lionaire is skittish after almost slipping off the last mountain. Now she climbs only after Tzain proves it’s safe.
“Just keep going,” Zélie calls from above. “It’s here. It has to be here.”
“Did you actually see it?” Tzain asks.
I think back to the moment in Mama Agba’s hut, the moment the future exploded before our eyes. It all looked so magical back then. Stealing the scroll actually felt like a good idea.
“We saw ourselves climbing…,” I start.