Page 39

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

AMARI

W HATEVER SALVE THE Green Maidens give me keeps me unconscious for the next half-moon.

At times I think I’m back in Lagos, safe in the pampered comforts of my old quarters.

In the brief moments I stir, Mae’e’s maidens surround me, feeding me spiced meats and freshly picked fruits.

At times they draw me baths and rebraid my dark curls.

If it weren’t for the flashes of the Skulls’ ship, I would think I’d passed into a new life.

By the time I pull myself from the sea of satin pillows and woven blankets, the crescent moon hangs in the starry sky. The ground beneath me quakes. The mountain rumbles with a sudden force before the tremble quietly fades away.

A bronze table to my right withstands the quake. Welded to the mosaic floor, it holds a full spread with jasmine tea. The candles that never seem to go out flicker against the vine-covered walls. A warm bath steams in the other room, calling to me with its floating lilies and bright sunflowers.

But as I sip the tea, my gaze shifts to the wooden entrance of my room. I set the ceramic saucer down. Soft pink silks glide across my skin as I slide the gilded doors apart.

A melodic voice echoes from down the hall.

I follow the sound to find Mae’e kneeling before a magnificent portrait carved out of the entire stone wall.

More candles dance across the intricate sculpture, bringing it to life.

The work of art captures every detail of New Gaīa, from the rice fields to the underground canals.

Children gather in front of the floating schoolhouses.

Chiseled villagers stand before the imperial palace, heads bowed for a coronation.

At the top of the stone sculpture, I see the goddess of their statues, the largest of the majestic faces carved into their mountains. The goddess opens her arms to the cloud-filled skies and vines made of emeralds shoot from her hands. Lava crafted from shattered rubies erupts around her in waves.

Something about the sculpture captures me. I’m surprised at the way I drift near. It’s as if the goddess looks right at me, seeing me for who I truly am.

“ Obrigada. ” Mae’e kisses her fingertips and offers them up to her goddess before bowing her head. Free of her usual braid, her raven hair cascades down her back in waves. Orange skirts shift around her russet skin.

I step back as she moves to her feet. The air seems to shimmer in her presence. Her eyes widen in surprise when she turns and spots me. My cheeks flush as I take in the sacred space. What was I thinking? I shake my head. I am a stranger in a foreign land.

“I apologize—” I start, but Mae’e smiles and presses a hand to her heart.

“You are up!” The melody of her voice tickles my ear.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You are my guest.” Mae’e waves her hand.

“You could never interrupt.” She speaks as if she were hosting a royal envoy, instead of escaped prisoners from King Baldyr’s ship.

Mae’e beckons me over, and I dare to answer her call.

Her honeyed scent wraps around me as the scent of ash travels through the halls.

“This is Mama Gaīa.” Mae’e’s face radiates with light as she speaks the sacred name. She gazes at the sculpture as if she hasn’t seen the goddess’s image every day of her life.

“You have to see it from here,” Mae’e insists. A shiver runs down my skin as Mae’e takes me by the arms. She brings me to the sculpture, placing me exactly where she knelt. Despite the goddess above me, I find myself staring at Mae’e instead.

Mae’e chews on her bottom lip. Mischief fills her sparkling gaze.

“We are not supposed to leave.…” She looks down the hallways. “But do you wish to see more?”

R UNNING THROUGH THE TEMPLES at night brings back memories long since forgotten. I hear my old handmaiden’s laughter. I see the white tendrils that would fall around her angular eyes.

We used to dream of traveling to all the corners of Or?sha. We spoke of journeying from the port of Lagos and making it all the way to the white sands of Zaria. There were days I never thought I’d leave the palace.

Binta was convinced I’d see the world.

I wish you were here , I think to her spirit. I’m brought to tears at the beauty that surrounds me. Brilliant vines cover stone columns. Jewel-encrusted arches hang above our heads. Emerald-green tiles fill the walls, accented with golden flowers.

Two Green Maidens herd a litter of baby tigenaires onto an open lawn. Dozens of the young ryders tangle together in an open field. One black tigenaire stumbles into our path, and Mae’e scoops it into her arms. She plants a kiss on its striped forehead before sending it back to its pack.

I watch Mae’e as she runs, enraptured by the way her black hair swishes behind her. Though the Green Maidens move through all levels of the temples, Mae’e knows how to evade them. The vines squeal and hiss in her presence, instructing Mae’e on when she can move.

“Wait, wait!” Mae’e whispers when a vine unfurls before us. She squeezes my shoulder as more Green Maidens pass.

“ Obrigada. ” Mae’e grazes the vine’s stem. It curls back into the wall.

Mae’e pulls me down a long hall filled with emerald fountains. When she leads me out of a tunnel, my hands fly to my heart. Another world unfolds before me.

The hanging gardens are endless.

A vast forest in the center of the temple, vibrant flowers shine from every bush—purple alliums, fuchsia angelonias, and azaleas in full bloom. Deep red plums hang over our heads. Mae’e grabs one and takes a bite. A trail of juice drips from her full lips down her chin.

Mosaic tiles create paths throughout the greenery. They circle around countless fires that burn inside sculptures of Mama Gaīa. A river runs through the vast forest, sliding over smooth basalt.

Mae’e takes a lantern in her hand, leading me through the gardens.

As we walk, I see Mama Gaīa’s face everywhere I look—she stares from the statues and the faces behind trickling waterfalls.

Her figurehead rises in the sparkling fountains.

I see her in the birds that sing. I feel her life pulsing inside of the leaves.

“This is my favorite part of the island.” Mae’e closes her eyes and inhales. I follow her lead, taking in the sweet scent for myself. “You can feel her spirit everywhere. You can hear her in the air.”

“She’s in everything?” I ask.

Mae’e nods. “She is the Mother Root. All of New Gaīa stems from her.”

Mae’e drifts to a sculpture of Mama Gaīa cut from black glass. Her shoulders fall in awe. I consider all that surrounds us: the hanging gardens, the temples, the city of vines. I can hardly believe all of New Gaīa grew from one being.

“Right now, Yéva maintains our connection to our civilization’s source. As the sacred hierophant, Yéva has connected my people to the Mother Root for almost two hundred years.”

“ Two hundred years?” I marvel, and Mae’e smiles.

“As a direct descendant of Mama Gaīa, Yéva grows like the trees. But her time is nearing its end. Soon, her sacred duties will fall to me.”

For the first time all night, the serenity leaves Mae’e’s eyes. For a moment, I feel what she must mean to her people, the sacred being King Baldyr threatens to take away. Of course her people feared our arrival.

What will become of New Gaīa if Baldyr harvests her heart?

“My people are looking to me to see them through this. It is my duty to keep them safe. When you first arrived, I felt so sure we would prevail. But the mountain has started to shake.” Mae’e turns to me, and her eyes break into my soul.

“Over the past few nights, I’ve had dreams,” she whispers. “I have seen the Blood Moon.”

The vines slither near us as Mae’e sits back. They wrap themselves around her, almost taking the future hierophant into their arms. The scent of lavender leaks from the garden in waves. Mae’e softens as she inhales the sweet aroma.

“Tell me.” Her lightness fades. “Should we be afraid?”

“You should be terrified.” I am surprised at the honesty she pulls from my throat. But a few weeks spent in the safety of her mountains doesn’t erase all we’ve had to face. Every maji who didn’t make it out of the Skulls’ chains.

“He hunted my friend across the earth. He didn’t care how many of our people he hurt. And with what Yéva said…” My voice trails off. “I don’t know how he can be stopped.”

Mae’e returns to her knees. She continues to pray before Mama Gaīa.

“What do you pray for?” I whisper.

“Protection,” she answers softly.

Though the action is foreign, I join her on the floor. I think of all those I love and bow my head, praying for the same.