“Now!” I hissed, the word tearing from my throat.
Tunde threw the bottle. It shattered against the marble floor near the Orisha of Earth. The kerosene spread, the match followed.
Whoosh.
Fire erupted. A hungry, physical world fire. The Orisha of Earth roared, not in pain, but in pure, undiluted disgust. Vines shot from his throne, slapping at the flames, but the fire just clung to them, spreading.
"Insects!" The shriek was a tidal wave. The Orisha of Water turned, her eyes finding me instantly. "The mortal! I knew your stench would return!"
Uzo was already moving. He slapped his hands against the wall, and a section of the marble floor vanished, swallowing a Mmuo guard who was charging us. It wasn't a fight. It was a distraction.
It was my only chance. I ran for the vault.
I didn't make it three steps. A wall of water hit me like a truck, throwing me back. I skidded across the floor, my old bones screaming. The Orisha of Water stood over me, her form towering. The beautiful face was gone, replaced by something ancient and furious.
"You are stubborn. I admire it." Her voice was soft again, the calm before the kill. "This struggle is beneath you. Join me. Become one of my collectors. You will have power. You can free your mother yourself and place her back in your world, rich beyond her dreams. No more suffering. No more fear. Why die for a city that will never thank you?"
The offer hung in the air. It was a good offer. I saw it. A life where my mother never had to smile through pain again. A life where we were the ones with power. All I had to do was say yes. All I had to do to save her was become the very thing that took her.
I looked past the Orisha, at the vault. I saw my mother's face again, not peaceful, but twisted in silent agony. And I remembered her smile. That small, curl of her lips she saved for when there was no light, no food, just us. That smile was a rebellion. She would never want this. She would rather be dead than see me become a monster.
I pushed myself up. My hand went to the amulet. It was so cold it was burning my skin. I could feel my life, thin as paper, almost gone.
"I am my mother's daughter," I said, my voice cracking with a final strength. "Not yours."
I saw her eyes widen. I ripped the amulet from my neck. The pain was like tearing my own heart out. I didn't throw it at her. I threw it at the spinning heart of the vault.
"For my mother!" I screamed.
The amulet hit the light. For a second, nothing. Then, a sound like the world tearing in half. A light, white and pure—my life, all of it, my last year exploding outward in one white-hot breath.
The amulet was human juju, a thing of desperate life. Against the cold, perfect purity of the spirit vault, it was like acid on silk. The Orisha of Water screamed, a real sound of shock and pain as her form flickered and steamed. The other Orishas recoiled, their power disrupted. The vault shuddered. A crack appeared on its surface, thin as hair. Then another. Beams of blinding light shot out.
Souls began to pour from the cracks, streaming away like shooting stars. It was working.
But the light from the amulet was fading. My life was almost spent. The crack wasn't big enough. I collapsed, empty. I saw the Orisha of Water starting to reform, her rage now hotter than the fire.
My sacrifice wasn't enough.