SILENCE SURROUNDS US.
Thick and heavy, hanging in the air.
The only sound between Zélie and me are our footsteps as we trudge up the tallest hill in the forest. It amazes me that with the soft soil and weighted nets, the masked figures didn’t leave more tracks. Whenever I stumble on a path, it seems to disappear.
“This way.” Zélie takes the lead, scouting the trees.
Following the advice of the masked boy we interrogated, I search the trunks for the painted symbol of his people: an X with two diverging crescents. According to him, following the discreet symbols is the only way to discover their camp.
“There’s another one.” Zélie points to the left, changing the direction of our path. She climbs with an unyielding resolve, but I struggle to keep up. Slung over my shoulder, the unconscious fighter weighs down my frame, making each inhale a battle. I almost forgot how much it hurts to breathe when I have to push my magic down.
Fighting Zélie, I was forced to let go. I needed my full strength to gain control. Now it takes everything in me to block my magic again. No matter how hard I fight, the risk of feeling Zélie’s pain lingers. A constant and growing threat—
My feet slip on the soil. I grunt, digging my heel into the dirt to keep from sliding down the hill. The slip is all my curse needs.
Like a leopanaire escaping its cage, the magic breaks free.
I close my eyes as Zélie’s essence rushes in like a crashing tidal wave. First cold and sharp, then soft and warm. The smell of the sea surrounds me, the clear night sky mirrored bright against its black waves. Trips to the floating market with Tzain. Hours passed on a coconut boat with Baba.
There are parts of it, parts of her, that light something inside me. But the light only lasts a moment.
Then I drown inside the darkness of her pain.
Skies. I push it all down, push every part of her and this virus away. When it’s gone I feel lighter, though the strain of suppression causes sharp pains in my chest. Something about her essence calls to my curse, bringing it up at every chance. Her spirit seems to hover around me, crashing with the force of the turbulent sea.
“You’re slowing me down,” Zélie calls back, nearing the top of the hill.
“Do you want to carry him?” I ask. “I’m more than happy to watch him bleed on you instead.”
“Maybe if you stopped suppressing your magic, you could handle the extra weight.”
Perhaps if you closed your wretched mind, it wouldn’t take so much energy to block you out.
But I bite my tongue; not every part of her mind is wretched. Laced in the memories of her family is a fierce love, something I’ve never felt. I think back to days sparring with Amari, to nights spent flinching from Father’s wrath. If Zélie had my magic, what parts of me would she see?
The question haunts me as I grit my teeth to finish the final ascent. When I reach the top, I set our captive’s body down and walk until the hill plateaus. Wind whips at my face, and I yearn to take my helmet off.
I glance at Zélie; she already knows my secret. For the first time since getting this miserable streak, I don’t have to hide.
I unlatch my helmet and savor the way the cool breeze runs over my scalp as I approach the hill’s steep edge. It’s been so long since I could remove my helmet without fear.
Below us the forested hills of the Gombe River Valley spread beneath the shadows and moonlight. Mammoth trees fill the land, but from up here, one unique symbol makes itself clear. Unlike the random spread of trees throughout the forest, this grove is arranged, forming a giant circle. From our vantage point, their special X is just visible, painted onto some of the trees’ leaves.
“He told the truth.” Zélie sounds surprised.
“We didn’t give him much of a choice.”
“Still.” She shrugs. “He easily could’ve lied.”
Between the circular formation of trees, a secret wall has been erected, formed from mud, stones, and crisscrossed branches. Though rudimentary, the wall sits high, reaching several meters up the trees’ trunks.
Two figures armed with swords stand in front of the wall, guarding what must be their gate. Like the boy we interrogated, the fighters wear masks and are completely clad in black.
“I still don’t understand who they are,” Zélie mutters under her breath. I echo her question. Besides their location, the only other thing we learned from the boy was that his people were after the scroll as well.
“Maybe if you hadn’t beaten him half to death, we could’ve gotten more answers.”
Zélie snarls. “If I didn’t beat that boy, we wouldn’t have found this place at all.”
She stalks forward, starting her trek down the forested terrain.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“To get our siblings back.”
“Wait.” I grab her arm. “We can’t just storm in.”
“I can take two men.”
“There are far more than two of them.” I point to the areas around the gate. It takes Zélie a moment to see through the shadows. The hidden soldiers are so still they blend completely into the darkness. “There are at least thirty of them on this side alone. And that doesn’t count the archers hidden in the trees.”
I point to a foot dangling from the branches, the only sign of life in the thick leaves. “If their formation matches the feet on the ground, we should expect at least fifteen of them up there as well.”
“So we’ll attack at daybreak,” Zélie decides. “When they can’t hide.”
“Sunlight isn’t going to change how many of them there are to fight. We have to assume they’re all as skilled as the men who took Amari and Tzain.”
Zélie scrunches her nose at me; I hear it, too. Her brother’s name sounds strange coming out of my mouth.
She turns; her white curls glow in the moonlight. Her hair was straight as a blade before, but now it bunches in tight spirals, twisting further in the wind.
Her curls remind me of one of her young memories, back when she was a child and her coils were even tighter. Her mother chuckled while trying to comb Zélie’s hair into a bun, magically summoning dark shadows to hold Zélie in place as her daughter struggled.
“What’s our move?” Zélie breaks through my thoughts. I return my focus to the wall, letting the facts of battle wash away all memories of Zélie’s mother and her hair.
“Gombe is only a day’s ride away. If I leave now, I can bring back guards by morning.”
“Are you serious?” Zélie steps back. “You want to bring the guards into this?”
“We need a force if we’re getting into that camp. What other choice do we have?”
“With the guards, you have a choice.” Zélie jabs her finger in my chest. “I don’t.”
“That boy is a divîner.” I point to the captive. “What if there are more behind that wall? They have the scroll now. We don’t know what we’ll have to face.”
“Of course. The scroll. Always the scroll. How stupid am I to think this could be about rescuing my brother or your sister—”
“Zélie—”
“Come up with a new plan,” she demands. “If there are divîners behind that wall and you summon the guards, we won’t get our siblings back. They’ll all die as soon as your soldiers arrive.”
“That’s not true—”
“Bring the guards into this, and I’ll tell them your secret.” She crosses her arms. “When they come for us, I’ll make sure they kill you, too.”
My insides twist and I step back. Kaea’s blade strikes back into my mind. The fear in her grip. The hatred in her eyes.
A strange sadness settles in me as I reach into my pocket and wrap my hand around Father’s pawn. I bite back all the words I want to shoot back. If only she was wrong.
“Then what do you propose we do without guards?” I push. “I don’t see a way past that wall without a fighting force.”
Zélie turns back to the camp and wraps her arms around herself. She shivers even though the humidity around us makes me perspire.
“I’ll get us in,” she finally says. “Once we break through, we go our separate ways.”
Though she doesn’t say it, I know she’s thinking about the scroll. Once those walls come down, the fight for it will be fiercer than ever.
“What kind of plan do you have in mind?”
“That’s not your concern.”
“It is when I’m putting my life in your hands.”
Her eyes flick to me. Sharp. Untrusting. But then she presses her hands into the ground. A hum ignites in the air.
“4mí àwọn tí ó ti sùn—”
Her words bend the earth to her will. It creaks and crumbles and cracks. An earthly figure rises beneath her touch. Brought to life by the magic of her hands.
“Skies,” I curse at her power. When did she learn this trick? But she doesn’t care what I know; she turns back to the camp.
“They’re called animations,” she says. “They follow my command.”
“How many can you make?”
“At least eight, maybe more.”
“That won’t do.” I shake my head.
“They’re powerful.”
“There’re too many fighters down there. We need a stronger force—”
“Fine.” Zélie turns on her heel. “If we’re attacking tomorrow night, I’ll figure out how to make more in the morning.”
She starts to walk away, but pauses.
“And a piece of advice, little prince. Don’t put your life in my hands unless you want that life to end.”