Tomi Adeyemi - Legacy of Orisha [01] Children of Blood and Bone

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To Mom and Dad

who sacrificed everything to give me this chance

&

To Jackson

who believed in me and this story long before I did

I try not to think of her.

But when I do, I think of rice.

When Mama was around, the hut always smelled of jollof rice.

I think about the way her dark skin glowed like the summer sun, the way her smile made Baba come alive. The way her white hair fuzzed and coiled, an untamed crown that breathed and thrived.

I hear the myths she would tell me at night. Tzains laughter when they played agbn in the park.

Babas cries as the soldiers wrapped a chain around her neck. Her screams as they dragged her into the dark.

The incantations that spewed from her mouth like lava. The magic of death that led her astray.

I think about the way her corpse hung from that tree.

I think about the king who took her away.

P ICK ME .

Its all I can do not to scream. I dig my nails into the marula oak of my staff and squeeze to keep from fidgeting. Beads of sweat drip down my back, but I cant tell if its from dawns early heat or from my heart slamming against my chest. Moon after moon Ive been passed over.

Today cant be the same.

I tuck a lock of snow-white hair behind my ear and do my best to sit still. As always, Mama Agba makes the selection grueling, staring at each girl just long enough to make us squirm.

Her brows knit in concentration, deepening the creases in her shaved head. With her dark brown skin and muted kaftan, Mama Agba looks like any other elder in the village. You would never guess a woman her age could be so lethal.

Ahem. Yemi clears her throat at the front of the ahr, a not-so-subtle reminder that shes already passed this test. She smirks at us as she twirls her hand-carved staff, eager to see which one of us she gets to defeat in our graduation match. Most girls cower at the prospect of facing Yemi, but today I crave it. Ive been practicing and Im ready.

I know I can win.

Zlie.

Mama Agbas weathered voice breaks through the silence. A collective exhale echoes from the fifteen other girls who werent chosen. The name bounces around the woven walls of the reed ahr until I realize Mama Agbas called me.

Really?

Mama Agba smacks her lips. I can choose someone else

No! I scramble to my feet and bow quickly. Thank you, Mama. Im ready.

The sea of brown faces parts as I move through the crowd. With each step, I focus on the way my bare feet drag against the reeds of Mama Agbas floor, testing the friction Ill need to win this match and finally graduate.

When I reach the black mat that marks the arena, Yemi is the first to bow. She waits for me to do the same, but her gaze only stokes the fire in my core. Theres no respect in her stance, no promise of a proper fight. She thinks because Im a divner, Im beneath her.

She thinks Im going to lose.

Bow , Zlie. Though the warning is evident in Mama Agbas voice, I cant bring myself to move. This close to Yemi, the only thing I see is her luscious black hair, her coconut-brown skin, so much lighter than my own. Her complexion carries the soft brown of Orshans whove never spent a day laboring in the sun, a privileged life funded by hush coin from a father she never met. Some noble who banished his bastard daughter to our village in shame.

I push my shoulders back and thrust my chest forward, straightening though I need to bend. Yemis features stand out in the crowd of divners adorned with snow-white hair. Divners whove been forced to bow to those who look like her time and time again.

Zlie, do not make me repeat myself.

But Mama

Bow or leave the ring! Youre wasting everyones time.

With no other choice, I clench my jaw and bow, making Yemis insufferable smirk blossom. Was that so hard? Yemi bows again for good measure. If youre going to lose, do it with pride.

Muffled giggles break out among the girls, quickly silenced by a sharp wave of Mama Agbas hand. I shoot them a glare before focusing on my opponent.

Well see whos giggling when I win.

Take position.

We back up to the edge of the mat and kick our staffs up from the ground. Yemis sneer disappears as her eyes narrow. Her killer instinct emerges.

We stare each other down, waiting for the signal to begin. I worry Mama Agball drag this out forever when at last she shouts.

Commence!

And instantly Im on the defensive.

Before I can even think of striking, Yemi whips around with the speed of a cheetanaire. Her staff swings over her head one moment and at my neck the next. Though the girls behind me gasp, I dont miss a beat.

Yemi may be fast, but I can be faster.

When her staff nears, I arch as far as my back will bend, dodging her attack. Im still arched when Yemi strikes again, this time slamming her weapon down with the force of a girl twice her size.

I throw myself to the side, rolling across the mat as her staff smacks against its reeds. Yemi rears back to strike again as I struggle to find my footing.

Zlie, Mama Agba warns, but I dont need her help. In one smooth motion, I roll to my feet and thrust my shaft upward, blocking Yemis next blow.

Our staffs collide with a loud crack. The reed walls shudder. My weapon is still reverberating from the blow when Yemi pivots to strike at my knees.

I push off my front leg and swing my arms for momentum, cartwheeling in midair. As I flip over her outstretched staff, I see my first openingmy chance to be on the offensive.

Huh! I grunt, using the momentum of the aerial to land a strike of my own. Come on

Yemis staff smacks against mine, stopping my attack before it even starts.

Patience, Zlie, Mama Agba calls out. It is not your time to attack. Observe. React. Wait for your opponent to strike.

I stifle my groan but nod, stepping back with my staff. Youll have your chance , I coach myself. Just wait your tur

Thats right, Zl. Yemis voice dips so low only I can hear it. Listen to Mama Agba. Be a good little maggot.

And there it is.

That word.

That miserable, degrading slur.

Whispered with no regard. Wrapped in that arrogant smirk.

Before I can stop myself, I thrust my staff forward, only a hair from Yemis gut. Ill take one of Mama Agbas infamous beatings for this later, but the fear in Yemis eyes is more than worth it.

Hey! Though Yemi turns to Mama Agba to intervene, she doesnt have time to complain. I twirl my staff with a speed that makes her eyes widen before launching into another attack.

This isnt the exercise! Yemi shrieks, jumping to evade my strike at her knees. Mama

Must she fight your battles for you? I laugh. Come on, Yem. If youre going to lose, do it with pride !

Rage flashes in Yemis eyes like a bull-horned lionaire ready to pounce. She clenches her staff with a vengeance.