Chapter 11: The Tempest’s Price

The storm screamed Adewunmi's name.

Oya hovered above the ravaged village, her talons clenched around Iyaoluwa's trembling form. Lightning etched the Orisha's face in jagged strokes, her eyes twin cyclones of wrath and resolve. Adewunmi stood in the square, the cracked amulet searing her palms, its darkness slithering up her arms like serpents.

"Choose, child of Oshun," Oya thundered. "The amulet for the woman who bore you. Or watch her fly."

The villagers' cries faded to a distant hum. Adewunmi's gaze locked with her mother's. Iyaoluwa shook her head, tears mingling with rain. "Don't," she mouthed.

The amulet pulsed, its voice a velvet hiss in Adewunmi's mind: "You need not fear the storm. Become it."

The Bargain

Adewunmi's fingers tightened around the amulet. "And if I give it to you? What becomes of the village? Of her?"

Oya's laugh was a gale tearing at rooftops. "You bargain with a goddess? How quaint. The amulet is but a key. The storm… the storm is inevitable."

A memory surfaced—Adéọlá's chains, her warning: "The curse isn't in the power… It's in the heart."

"No," Adewunmi said, her voice steady. "You don't want the amulet. You want me. To finish what Adéọlá began."

Oya's grip on Iyaoluwa slackened, surprise flickering across her storm-lit face.

Sango's Gambit

A crack of thunder split the sky. Sango materialized atop a crumbling hut, his axe balanced on one shoulder. "Clever girl. But cleverness won't stop the winds."

"You knew," Adewunmi accused. "You sent me here to die."

Sango grinned. "To prove. Mortals love their martyrs, but the Orishas? We prefer survivors." He pointed his axe at Oya. "She thinks razing this world will cleanse it. I say let it burn—and rise stronger."

Iyaoluwa struggled in Oya's grasp. "Adewunmi! The amulet isn't cracked—it's awake! It's—"

Oya silenced her with a clawed hand. "Enough. Your choice, girl."

The Vision

The amulet's darkness surged, plunging Adewunmi into a vision:

She stood in Orun, the spiritual realm, Oshun before her, her golden rivers running black. "The amulet is a vessel," Oshun whispered. "For light… or shadow. You must choose."

"Why me?" Adewunmi demanded.

"Because you are human," Oshun said, fading. "Flawed. Fierce. Free."

The Sacrifice

Adewunmi raised the amulet. "You want it? Take it!"

She hurled it into the storm. Oya released Iyaoluwa, diving after the artifact. But Adewunmi wasn't done.

Channeling the last dregs of Oshun's light, she slammed her hands into the earth. Golden roots erupted, tangling Oya's limbs. The amulet fell—not to Oya, but to Sango.

"Treacherous rat!" Oya shrieked.

Sango caught the amulet, his laughter booming. "You forget, sister. Thunder always rides the storm." He vanished in a bolt of lightning, the amulet with him.

Oya's cyclone collapsed. She dissolved into mist, her final words a promise: "This is not over."

The Cost

Adewunmi collapsed, her hands blistered, veins threaded with black. Iyaoluwa cradled her, sobbing. Villagers crept from hiding, their faces a mosaic of awe and fear.

Baba Ifa approached, staff trembling. "What have you done?"

"What I had to," Adewunmi rasped.

But as the villagers carried her home, she felt the amulet's whisper in her blood—a bargain struck in shadows.