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Story: Children of Anguish and Anarchy (Legacy of Orisha #3)
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
TZAIN
“W E WENT FROM ONE cage to another.”
I pace the waiting room they’ve placed us in, unable to sit still. The walls of the holding chamber drip with emeralds and pearls. Golden lanterns swing above our heads.
Vines travel through the open windows, twisting in crisscrossed patterns across the floor. I fight the part of me that wants to rip through them all.
“Maybe it will work?” Amari looks between me and her brother. “He said they’re taking their best—”
“We need more than their best.” Inan rises from his chair. I can almost hear the gears ticking in his head. “If we can’t get him to send an army, we should at least be there. Emperor Jorah doesn’t know what he’s up against.”
As Inan speaks, I can’t stop thinking of my sister. I can’t erase the empty look in her eyes as they took her away. There was so much we didn’t get to say.
It was like they were leading my sister to her grave.
“We need a boat,” I speak up. “One strong enough to take us there.”
“They’ll never grant us one,” Amari replies.
“Then we steal,” I say.
“The New Gaīans don’t trust us as it is!” Amari pushes back. “If we disobey them now, we could lose the little favor we have. They could kick us out of their lands!”
“We have one chance.” Inan walks over to us. “ One chance to end this on our terms. If we don’t stop them now…” His voice trails off and he gazes at the open sky. Right now, the waxing crescent hangs above. We still don’t know when the Blood Moon will come. If it rises—
No. I shake my head. I can’t allow myself to think like that.
I don’t care what it takes.
I won’t let Zélie fall into King Baldyr’s hands.
“The Laminas have boats.” I think back to the square armories that sit behind the soldiers’ barracks. “There are always guards outside the gates, but with your magic, we might be able to get in.”
“You want to attack the Laminas?” Amari’s brows rise. “You won’t get out alive!”
“They have my sister!” I exclaim. “What am I supposed to do?”
“Tzain, even if we could get a boat, what does it matter if we’re not—” Amari struggles. “If we’re not—”
“Not what?” For the first time since the massacre at Ibadan, I really take Amari in and I’m struck by the way she blends in. Since landing in New Gaīa, she’s completely transformed. With her braided hair and green silks, she looks just like one of Mae’e’s maidens.
Amari drops her gaze to the floor. Her lip quivers as her truth breaks free.
“What if we’re not strong enough to help?”
Amari voices the question I have refused to face. The insult Koa hurtles at me every time he throws me onto the ground. I don’t have a choice.
If I can’t be strong enough, my little sister dies.
“The thought of facing the Skulls…” Amari puts a hand on her throat, and I squeeze my eyes shut. My jaw sets with the memories of the long, lonely nights before we staged our attack.
“I felt like we were trapped in those cages forever,” Amari exhales. “It felt like it would never end. We barely escaped with our lives. What do we have to add to Emperor Jorah’s best?”
“Don’t let this place make you think you’re weak.”
Amari looks up at me. Her amber eyes shine. Despite how hard I want to hold her at bay, I can’t fight the way she still makes me feel. The love I’ve buried inside.
“You’re still a fighter, Amari. You’re still her friend . Zélie needs you.” I look to Inan. “She needs us all.”
Amari lays her hand on my chest, and my shoulders soften at her touch. It feels right to be with her again. If not in love, a true friend.
“Alright.” Amari tilts her head. She chews on her lower lip with the start of an idea. “Forget the Laminas. Attacking them isn’t the way.”
Amari crosses the gilded room and places her hand on the brass doors. With a heavy push, they slide open.
“Come on.” Amari pulls down her veil. “As of now, we’re guests. Not prisoners.”
D ESPITE OUR FREEDOM, EVERY step we take through the imperial palace feels like walking on glass. Everywhere we go, attendants stare. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so out of place.
“Eyes ahead,” Amari coaches me under her breath. She keeps her chin lifted and shoulders raised, confidence woven through her regal gait.
I watch in awe as she greets attendants in their native tongue. She even moves like the New Gaīans, swaying like she’s spent her entire life under the safety of the city’s vines. She’s never looked more at peace. I start to wonder if she’ll ever leave.
“This way.”
We follow Or?sha’s former princess through thick stone pillars, past crystal pools and servants’ quarters. We walk across an entire field filled with grazing elephantaires. We travel through banquet halls set with ceramic bowls of rice and seafood stew.
When we clear the back gardens, Amari points to a boathouse on the canal waters. Sleek vessels woven from vines sit tied to the dock, ready to embark.
“They call them videiras,” Amari explains. “They take over half a year to create. The vines are pulled from the hierophant’s hanging gardens. They’re supposed to fly across the waters.”
“How do we steer them?” I ask.
“You can’t.” We freeze at the sound of our tongue colored with the melody of the New Gaīan accent. “They can only be steered by vineweavers.”
Mae’e appears behind us, long arms crossed. Amari’s face falls. My muscles tense as Mae’e stares at the three of us.
“Jorah could have your heads,” she hisses. “Or worse!” She grabs Amari’s wrist. “You know how my people fear you! You could have been killed!”
“Mae’e, please.” Amari reaches for Mae’e’s hands. “I have seen the Skulls with my own eyes. If Jorah won’t send an army, then we need to be there to protect Zélie.”
“Help us,” Inan joins in. “If not for Zélie, then for your people. For yourself. A small force can’t take on the Skulls alone. We need every fighter we can get.”
Mae’e looks over her shoulders. A group of patrolling vineweavers nears. She twists the bangles on her wrist as she thinks of what to do.
“Please,” I beg. “Don’t send my sister out there on her own.”
Mae’e exhales a deep breath. The vines start to slither around Mae’e as she boards.
“Quick.” She looks back at the approaching vineweavers. “Get on!”
Table of Contents
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- Page 45 (Reading here)
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