“A sudden coldness hit me right in my chest. My reflection from the slanted, broken mirror showcased a seven-year-old’s face exposed to something dark.”

After Malik kills the men in his mother’s room and his mother disappears, Malik sees himself reflected in the broken mirror. This cracked visage symbolizes Malik’s loss of innocence. He has discovered his magic, killed three men, and seen the loss of his mother, all of which will set him on a difficult path of death and darkness.

“The rumors of me having something to do with my mama’s death flooded Liberty Heights like a river of blood.”

This simile—which compares the spreading rumors through Malik’s town to a “river of blood”—emphasizes the impact that his mother’s death had on his childhood. After losing his mother, not only was Malik left without family as a seven-year-old, but he also lost his neighborhood and his friends as they blamed him for his mother’s death.

“Adrenaline of fear and magic rushes through my veins. Just like clockwork, the memory floods my head like a basketball game on replay. My mama’s screams. The cloaked figures reciting a chant that I’ve been spending ten years trying to decode. One of them lurching forward, trying to grab me. My seven-year-old self yelling, ‘Mama!’”

Even 10 years after his mother’s disappearance, Malik still sees her last moments so vividly that it is like watching a replay of it. This simile emphasizes The Lasting Effects of Trauma. Malik is overwhelmed by the trauma of what he experienced, so much so that it overwhelms his senses and causes him to have flashbacks, reflected by the rhythm of the series of images and interrupted sentences.

“I’m trying not to get mad. But the more I look at [Mama Aya], the more I do. Those lonely—and I mean lonely—nights in foster care. The confusion and fear I had when it all first happened. My magic…sweeping over me like a blanket. Seeing all this, I now realize there were so many things I could have avoided.”

Malik’s first thoughts when meeting Mama Aya emphasize the trauma that he has experienced for the last 10 years. Instead of feeling comforted or supported by now having family, he initially feels bitterness and resentment for being left alone for so long. These thoughts provide important insight into Malik’s characterization. He has had to live his life alone, emphasized by his repetition of the word “lonely,” and fight to survive, causing initial resistance to someone who is actually trying to help better his life.

“This man that’s in front of me is probably six foot four. A little on the lighter side but still on the edge of having light-skinned privilege. The way he has his hands in his pockets, he looks like he stepped off GQ magazine or a pulpit at the church. […] Ah, hell. I know this type. He’s definitely like one of those school principals that already hate me. Growing up the way I did, you can detect that type of tone a mile away.”

The first introduction of Taron is through Malik’s eyes, where he emphasizes the man’s “privilege,” his clothing, and his air of being a “school principal” type. Malik’s reaction reflects his past experience, as he immediately dislikes Taron as a defense mechanism as he assumes that Taron will dislike him. This introduction sets up Taron as an antagonist in the text, creating bias as Malik lets his prejudice against Taron cloud his judgment.

“Around the corner are a few wooden shacks laid out in a row. Slave shakes. When I step inside, a heavy feeling weighs down on my shoulders. Blood, sweat, and tears stain these walls. Light slashes in through small slates crudely made in the wood. The dirt floor feels cold. […] It’s so secretive and beautiful even though it was built on pain. Pain builds everything in this world, and pain is all that’s left when everything’s been stolen from you.”

This vivid, descriptive imagery emphasizes the importance of the setting of Dessalines Parish. Mama Aya has made her home on her ancestral land that is deeply tied to the enslavement of her ancestors. Malik recognizes the duality with his references to both beauty and pain: It is a history of death and pain, but it is also part of what defines Malik’s family and their magical ability. These thoughts emphasize the theme of The Importance of Community and Belonging, as Malik is beginning to understand his history and, therefore, his place in the world.

“Without a word, [Alexis’s] arms wrap around me, pulling me into a warm embrace, and all the heartache and problems in the world seem to melt away.”

Malik’s reunion with Alexis emphasizes the importance of community and belonging. Aside from Taye, Alexis is the only person with whom Malik has ever had a connection. The effect that she has on him conveys the importance of connection and support, as Malike experiences immediate relief, his fear and pain “melt[ing] away.” Malik will use his newfound belonging to heal and repair from the trauma he has experienced.

“All I’m saying is, who’s to say what they did was bad? For our people, magic is all they had. Brought to this new land, stripped of their heritage and language—built this whole country on the bones of their children and children’s children. I say our magic isn’t either ethical or unethical.”

In Intro to Black Magic Studies, one of the students introduces the idea of the duality of magic. While it is a crucial part of Black history and helped free them from enslavement, it also leads to violence and death. This concept of duality is an important component of the text, as it applies Black history, Malik’s personal history, and the theme of The Corrupting Nature of Power. While the power magic offers is critical to their survival, it also presents issues of morality and ethics, exemplified by Malik’s innocent actions—while attempting to save his mother, he killed three people, creating lasting trauma for others and himself, as he battles with the guilt of what he has done.

“This is a fairy tale. And I never believed fairy tales were made for me.”

These words from Malik are an example of metacommentary, as they pertain to both his personal history and the novel itself. They apply to Malik’s experiences in life, as he comments multiple times on “all those stories starring white kids” (6)—like fairy tales—that he does not see himself reflected in. Similarly, the novel as a whole provides representation for young Black readers, giving them a story that is “made for” them that they can connect with.

“Photos. And more awards. But it’s something weird how they’re placed, though. Set like they’re trying to hide something. I know what that’s like. Hiding pain. Hiding hurt.”

When Malik sees Taron’s office for the first time, he connects with his hidden photos and the air of secrecy Taron gives off. This connection foreshadows the truth about Taron. While Malik dislikes him because he acts like a “principal,” the reality is that Taron is struggling with loss and his past tied to Lorraine—just as Malik is.

“I peer into the black water, seeing my reflection staring back at me. First time I’ve seen my reflection in a bit. There’s a new spark there, but that heaviness I carry still flickers in my eye.”

At the crossroads, Malik sees his reflection in the bayou, and it echoes the moment in the Epilogue when he saw his reflection in his mother’s shattered mirror. Just as the previous broken reflection symbolizes Malik’s loss of innocence, this one serves to symbolize the change that Malik is undergoing. Although he is still suffering from a “heaviness,” the “new spark” he sees is his change as he begins to discover who he is and find belonging in his new world.

“‘This can blow back on you. Magic always comes with a price.’

‘Then I’ll pay it.’ She pauses, then holds out her hand, focusing. As the tears flow from her eyes, the wind starts up. ‘You feel that, Malik? You feel how just by me closing my eyes, I can conjure the wind? Just think about how we can help our community out there. On the outside!’”

After Alexis punishes the spirits of the men who kidnapped Katia in the graveyard, Malik implores her to be careful using dark magic. Malik tries to help Alexis understand the danger in what she is doing, connecting to the motif of the price of magic. However, Alexis’s insistence that she is not worried about the consequences of her actions foreshadows her betrayal of Malik. She is desperate to help young Black girls like Katia, even if it means betraying Malik.

“‘Watermelon? Really?’ I groan, trying not to laugh. ‘This is kinda cliché, don’t you think?’ […]

‘A bastardized version of our magic. The watermelon in its purest form has all that you need to sustain life. It’s indigenous to our motherland and can replenish our magic, just as it replenishes life.’”

Williams uses humor in the interaction between Malik and Dr. Akeylah to introduce an important part of the magical community: watermelon. Williams plays on the racist stereotype of Black people loving watermelon by giving it magical significance to their people, emphasizing its importance in “replenishing” Black magic and strength.

“The way this is set up, I would’ve guessed I stepped into Emerald City. But I’m sure there’s a curtain that’s gonna reveal the fake wizard somewhere, and all of this is just a façade.”

Upon seeing the Bonclair estate and the Kwasan tribe, Malik compares the estate to Emerald City, an allusion to Frank L. Baum’s The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. In the story, Dorothy is transported to the land of Oz and seeks help from the powerful Wizard. She goes to him in Emerald City, only to discover that he has no magical ability at all. These thoughts convey Malik’s feelings about the Kwasan tribe. They are idealized as strong, protective conjurers, but Malik begins to question whether they truly have good intentions under their “façade” as they allow Black people to go missing and the Bokor to return without stepping in.

“‘The Du Lacs. They are two of the leading heart surgeons in the entire world. Their family has led the School of Medicine at Caiman for over three generations. With their magic, they have saved hundreds of thousands of lives out in the real world.’ She then points to an older man walking by the pool. ‘Mr. Thomas Banks. One of the most successful Black lawyers in Mississippi. Even repped a few civil rights leaders from there.’”

Malik’s conversation with Empress changes his perspective on what the magical community is doing for the Black community. While he agrees with Alexis’s assertion that more can be done to help the missing Black children, Empress makes it clear that their lack of overt action does not mean they are doing nothing. These words help Malik understand the balance that Alexis lacks as she allows herself to give in to the corrupting nature of power. While Alexis’s actions are noble, they are also dangerous and potentially detrimental to the community—while also ignoring the other ways that the magical community can help.

“I ain’t never thought about anything like this before. Guess I’m privileged in that way as a straight dude. ‘Black men don’t get to be bisexual,’ D Low said, addressing the audience. ‘We gotta be either gay or straight. It took me a long time to break that stigma over my own life.’”

Although only briefly touched on in the text, D Low’s sexuality and his willingness to speak out about Queer rights emphasize another component of the importance of community and belonging. D Low has felt a lack of belonging because of his bisexuality, but he uses his experience and his voice at Caiman to create a new space for himself and others who are struggling with the same feelings.

“After [my ancestors] all disappear, I end up right back at the tree in Mama Aya’s front yard. The bottles swaying, and the root of it bleeds with crimson blood. My breathing picks up as I see the blood gush from the open tree bark.”

After Malik has a vision of his ancestors where he leads them into the water and to freedom, he ends up back at the root of Mama Aya’s tree. This scene emphasizes the importance of the tree as a symbol of Malik’s ancestry, a physical tie to his past and both his personal and Black history. These words also give meaning to the novel’s title, as the blood of Malik’s ancestry flows through the tree—and by extension through his own body.

“Since I got attacked, everybody been posted up at me and D Low’s apartment, chillin’ and studying for our summer midterms. Also, here to ‘protect’ me too. They ain’t slick. But I won’t lie, it’s nice to feel like I have folks looking after me. Having everyone around like this, I’m not even thinking about all this scroll shit so much.”

As Malik’s life becomes more dangerous with his mother and the Bokor, he finds comfort and relief in his friends, emphasizing the theme of the importance of community and belonging. For the first time in his life, Malik has friends and a place to belong at Caiman. As a result, he finds relief from the difficulties in his life both from their physical and emotional support.

“She continues to put the thread to the needle, finishing up an X-looking shape, reminiscent of the crossroads that I read about in my books from school. There are other shapes on there too. Some ovals, squares, and a bear claw. And then a bird. So much history embedded in this fabric.”

The quilt that Mama Aya works on while sitting on the porch is symbolic of her ancestry. Malik notices the different shapes in the quilt, and as she works, Mama Aya explains what each one means. When she dies, she leaves the quilt for Malik, symbolizing the passing of her ancestry and her magic on to Malik. Additionally, her insistence on finishing the quote foreshadows her death, as she struggles to record her history to pass on in her final moments of life.

“Just like Carlwell, only this time I don’t plan on stopping. My hands curl, forcing the blue magic to close his throat even more. Alexis screams my name, but I ignore her. His body starts to life from the floor, levitating. I want him to feel what I’ve felt. The loneliness. The heartache, the fucking pain. But that ain’t enough. Physically, no. Fuck. I can’t do it.”

This scene in Taron’s office parallels the earlier scene where Malik choked and nearly killed Carlwell. This time, Malik insists that he is not going to stop; however, he does once again at the last moment. These two scenes emphasize the purity of Malik. While others give into the corrupting nature of power, Malik resists all the anger and pain he has within himself, committing to his goodness and refusing to give in to the allure of power.

“‘Because I want my brother back!!!’ And there it is. The pain and hurt that’ll make you go crazy. The price you’ll pay that comes with magic. ‘I want him back. And my folks couldn’t do nothing for him. Sayin’ it’s the way of the ancestors. No, I don’t buy that. My brother deserved to live! And I’ll sacrifice any and everything for that.”

Kumale's screaming and the use of three exclamation points emphasize the anger and hate that he feels over what happened to his brother. His words emphasize two themes in the text: the lasting effects of trauma and the corrupting nature of power. After years of suffering from the pain of the loss of his brother, he turns toward bane magic and allows power to corrupt him in his pursuit of healing his trauma.

“I catch a glimpse in his eyes. His mama and daddy, killed by a seven-year-old boy. The agony of their screams as my magic incinerates the skin off their bodies. The deafening sounds of my childhood home imploding, raining wood and glass on them. I feel it. I feel their pain as I struggle to scramble to my feet.”

As Malik learns a truth about Donja, parallels are drawn between their histories. While Malik literally “feel[s] their pain” through his magic, he also knows their pain because of what he experienced with the loss of his own mother. These parallels emphasize the goodness within Malik and his resistance to the corrupting nature of power. While Kumale and Donja pursue revenge at any cost, Malik acknowledges what they are experiencing while still refusing to give in to his own similar pain.

“And here is my next lesson: mastering the art of letting go.”

When Samedi proposes that he and Brigitte adopt Taye, Malik is upset but recognizes that he must “let go” of Taye so that he can have a better life. These words are a reference to Kumale’s words to Malik. He told him that “it’s not the actual hurt that is the most painful. It’s the letting go” (326). Malik recognizes that Kumale was unable to “let go,” as he allowed his anger over his brother’s death to consume him and turned toward dark magic. Malik recognizes that he cannot make the same mistake, instead choosing to willingly let Taye pursue a better life—even if it means losing him.