Tristan Strong Punches a Hole in the Sky

by Kwame Mbalia

  I heard the same longing in her voice that Gum Baby had when she dreamed about becoming a pilot. Ayanna and I exchanged glances. We all had something to prove to someone, even if it was just ourselves.

  The tunnel widened and brightened, and the exit appeared around a curve. Chestnutt and Ayanna peeked out first. They gasped.

  “What? What is it?” I whispered.

  Ayanna muttered something that sounded suspiciously like a prayer, then motioned me and Gum Baby forward. “Come on, we’re wasting time.”

  I stared at her as I stepped out of the tunnel. She was so confus—

  My stomach flipped and flopped as I saw that I was on a very thin ledge with a steep drop-off.

  “I hate heights.”

  Gum Baby leaned over my shoulder and whistled. “Boy, you in trouble. Let Gum Baby know if you scared. If you scared, say you scared. Ain’t no shame. Gum Baby got this.”

  I swallowed and crept out a little farther.

  Isihlangu was almost completely hollow. I don’t know what I expected, but there really was a city inside a mountain. Obsidian towers and spires rose out of the walls at an angle. Thousands of homes had been cut into the rock, and each had a single large gemstone embedded above its entrance, like a diamond porch light. Glimmering tracks of blue-black amethysts crisscrossed the vast open space, connecting one side of the underground city with the other.

  I gripped my chest. “Are they…are they skateboarding across?”

  A trio of Ridgefolk—I couldn’t tell their ages from here—rode across the chasm at breakneck speed a few levels down. They stood on wide, flat oblong slabs of obsidian that hovered over the amethyst rails. My eyes widened at the vicious club-like staffs strapped to their backs. I could hear them laughing from here. Kids? They disappeared beneath the ledge we hid on, and Ayanna hissed at me.

  “Hurry up, flyboy, unless you want to get caught!”

  After one more stomach-tightening glance over the edge, I followed Ayanna and Chestnutt up the winding path.

  “The ballad of the gummy, ballad of the gummy.

  Strongest and the fiercest, and her nose is never runny.

  Sap attack, back it back, the hero of the hour.

  Riding on her bumbly steed, who needs to take a shower.”

  I rolled my eyes as Gum Baby hummed the rest of the song under her breath. Bumbly steed. The nerve!

  “There it is,” Chestnutt whispered. She pointed near the ceiling. “That has to be it.”

  What I’d thought was the ceiling was really the bottom of a giant room carved into the mountain peak. The ledge we stood on curved around several more times before it disappeared inside.

  A booming sound shook the mountain, throwing me flat to my stomach.

  “What was that?” Ayanna asked. Her voice trembled just a bit—I didn’t blame her. Mine came out in a high-pitched squeak as I peeked over the edge.

  “Don’t know.” I cleared my throat. “Wait. Something’s happening down there.”

  The large main doors were opening. A group of Ridgefolk floated in on obsidian hoverboards. They slowed to a stop for just a second before spreading out and taking off in different directions.

  I looked up. “They’re searching for something.”

  Ayanna met my eyes, then nodded. “Us. That boom must have been an alarm signal. We need to hurry.”

  We scurried up the ledge, trying to keep low, and, after several nerve-racking minutes, we reached the final curve. The Atrium. Two giant doors stood ajar and I breathed a sigh of relief. It was unlocked. Ayanna looked at me, and I swallowed and moved to the front. Gum Baby bounced up and down in my hood.

  “Game time, big boy.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I thumbed the adinkra on my bracelet. Eddie’s Anansi symbol was cool to the touch, as was Nyame’s. No iron monsters or booby traps here.

  Just a mountain full of angry Ridgefolk.

  “Strongs keep punching,” I muttered. Then I took a deep breath and darted inside, ready with my empty sack for a snatch-and-grab, a dine-and-dash (not exactly the same, but you get the concept). The only thing missing was a dope soundtrack to this epic heist we were about to pull off.

  Ayanna pushed in behind me and jabbed me in the ribs. “Why are you humming? You want to get us caught? Idiot.”

  My face flushed as we stepped into the room. “Don’t poke me! And we won’t get caught. I”—we both froze as the wickedly sharp tips of three spears were leveled at our faces—“promise.”

  THE SPEARS DIDN’T WAVER. I swallowed and looked past them to the people—guards, I guess—holding them. They wore long blanketlike cloaks with mesmerizing stitched and beaded patterns. The material seemed to absorb light, and if I gazed at the beads too long, they started to glow and burn my eyes, like I was staring into the sun. Their faces were wrapped in cloth so only their eyes could be seen—bright, glittering eyes that watched my every movement. Two of them wore beaded headwraps, and the third had bead bracelets around the wrists and ankles. When I flinched from the glare of a bracelet, the guard in front glowered at me even harder.

  All in all, they were beautiful, and I could’ve stood there for hours gawking, but I needed to do something.

  I cleared my throat and stepped forward with my hands up. “My name is—”

  All three cloaks were thrown aside as the guards dropped into fighting stances. Chestnutt squeaked in alarm.

  “Tristan,” Ayanna whispered.

  I swallowed and backed up.

  The spears were about as long as Ayanna’s staff and had wide leaf-shaped blades the size of footballs. And now, in addition to those, each guard produced one of those polished clubs the patrollers had been carrying.

  Okay. Yeah.

  “You will come with us. You will speak before the council.” The guard in the front spoke through her face covering in a soft but clear voice. “Or you will speak to my kierie.” She twirled her club in her left hand, and my eyes followed the wicked head of the weapon.

  I gulped. “Yep. Yes. Yes, we will, that’s what we’ll do. Right, y’all?”

  “Yes!”

  “Yup, yup!”

  “Gum Baby ain’t going nowh—uuurgghh—”

  Ayanna had grabbed Gum Baby and covered her mouth. The lead guard’s eyes narrowed, but she nodded to her comrades.

  “Take them.”

  One guard picked up Gum Baby and Chestnutt by their necks. The other guard tied Ayanna’s and my wrists in front of us with strips of cloth. They marched us out of the Atrium and into chaos. The guard nearest me slipped the cover down off her face—it was a girl just a few years older than me—and she grabbed me by the collar and hissed, which I guessed was supposed to be a warning.

  Outside, the entire population of the Ridge seemed to line the walkway that spiraled down the interior of the mountain. Apparently, everybody in Isihlangu had come to witness the commotion, and all of them were armed. Men, women, and children gripped clubs and scowled as we passed. Nobody spoke.

  Well, nobody from the Ridge.

  “Get your hands off Gum Baby! This ain’t no hug-fest. Who you frowning at? Better send those looks that way—Gum Baby ain’t the one.”

  I gritted my teeth. “Gum Baby,” I muttered, “maybe you can, I don’t know, not harass our captors?”

  “Gum Baby ain’t caught,” she said, sniffing in contempt. “She’s escorting y’all for your own protection.”

  I started to say something else, then shut up when my guard waved at me to hush. The other guard dangled Gum Baby and Chestnutt. “What about them, Thandiwe?”

  My guard—Thandiwe—pursed her lips, then shrugged. “Bag them” was all she said.

  Chestnutt whimpered as she and a now-gagged Gum Baby were stuffed in a sack. I grimaced—assuming we all survived, I’d never hear the end of it. Thandiwe pushed me toward the edge, and I resisted.

  “No, wait—”

  “Keep quiet and move,” she snapped. “Step down, now.”

  I tossed a nervous lo
ok back, then inched forward to peer over the edge. One of the floating obsidian hoverboards waited, bobbing up and down above a rail. From this close I could see it was bigger than I’d assumed. It was shaped like a wide trapezoid, and there were two indentations in the middle. Two more hoverboards floated on either side, and I realized the guards must’ve ridden the rails up here—that’s how they’d arrived so fast.

  Man, that board was really big. Big enough for two people to stand on.

  Oh, crap.

  “Nope.” I shook my head. “I’ll walk down.”

  “What’s the matter, thief? Scared?” The girl slipped her kierie into a holster behind her back, so it could join her spear, and folded her arms beneath her cloak. “Having second thoughts?”

  I mumbled something.

  “What?”

  “I don’t do heights,” I muttered. Ayanna winced.

  “Speak up, boy.”

  “I DON’T DO HEIGHTS!”

  The shout echoed throughout the entire mountain. A second passed, and then all the Ridgefolk burst into laughter. And I mean every single one. Even a baby, wrapped behind his mother’s back, flashed a gummy grin and drooled at me.

  The nerve.

  Thandiwe wiped a tear from her eye and gasped for air. “Get on the forebear before you embarrass yourself further.” I opened my mouth to protest and her smile disappeared. “Now.”

  I shut my trap, then took a deep breath and stepped off the edge onto the glass skateboard—the forebear. It sank a little like a boat would in the water, and I held both hands out for balance and shut my eyes.

  “Move to the middle, near the back.”

  I did as I was told, and she smirked and held up two metal loops tied to her belt.

  “Hold on tight, or you might fall. That would be a shame.”

  I took them, squeezed them in my fists, and waited for her signal that we were going to take off. Which is why, when all of a sudden we leaped forward onto the black metal rail and zoomed toward the ground miles below, I screamed at the top of my lungs.

  Everything was a blur. The metal hoops bit into my palms as I gripped them harder each time we swerved or dipped or dove. I swear we took the scariest way down. The forebear flicked up and down, left and right, jumping from rail to rail with the slightest movement of the girl’s feet. The kids who skated the handrails at the park back in Chicago would’ve been impressed. Me, too, if I hadn’t had to close my eyes every few seconds.

  “Are you that scared, thief?”

  Thandiwe’s voice whipped back to me. I gritted my teeth and didn’t answer.

  “You brave the wrath of Isihlangu by breaking in, but some wind in your face terrifies you? You are the most pathetic of thieves. I hope the council sends you to the mines for the rest of your miserable life, once you answer for your other crimes.”

  I opened my eyes again and focused on the beaded wrap on her head. “What other crimes?”

  “Don’t treat me like I’m stupid,” Thandiwe snapped. “We’ve been hunting for you and the others. You’ll talk soon enough. Isihlangu is angry. You’ll face the council now.”

  She tipped the forebear forward and we hurtled down some more, and whatever protests I was going to make died in my throat. I didn’t scream again, though. Wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction. But as the ground approached and we slowed, questions bounced around my head.

  What other crimes?

  How can a mountain be angry?

  What council?

  The forebear stopped on an elevated platform right in the middle of the mountain floor. Great, another stage. Ridgefolk streamed out of their homes carved into the mountain to gather around. They rode their own forebear or doubled or tripled up on someone else’s. Ayanna arrived with her guard, a middle-aged woman, and the third guard dumped Chestnutt and Gum Baby next to us. In the process, Gum Baby’s gag slipped off, which I was very sorry about.

  “Gum Baby gonna act a fool in a second,” she promised me, and I shushed her.

  The crowd surrounding us filled the cavern, and more zipped around on rails above our heads. Beads of sweat gathered on my forehead. “This isn’t an interrogation,” I whispered to Ayanna. “This is a trial.”

  Shuffling sounds came from behind us. An elderly woman, with graying dreadlocks peeking out of a bright yellow headwrap and wearing a brilliant gold-studded blanket draped over her shoulders, stepped barefoot onto the stone stage.

  A hush fell over the crowd.

  I gulped. “I guess she’s our prosecutor.”

  A sharp jab in the back cut off my comments. Thandiwe glared at me and took out her kierie again. “You will show the diviner some respect, thief.”

  Diviner?

  I kept my mouth shut, though, and turned around.

  “If this is a trial,” Ayanna whispered, “where are the judge and jury?”

  The old woman raised her arms, and then, in a voice that surprised me with its deep strength and volume, shouted to the top of the mountain.

  “Ancestors! Lend your children your guidance and wisdom. We have need! Please, descend from your thrones on high!”

  Ayanna and I exchanged confused glances. But before I could say anything, a million pencil-thin beams of light radiated out of the gemstones above every house. They blazed brighter than any sun, and a giant flare exploded silently just above the stage.

  I flinched and, with my eyes closed, felt Ayanna do the same.

  When I opened them again, a group of men and women sat on stools at one end of the stone stage. I looked around, confused as to where they had come from.

  My hands were still tied, but I was able to reach out a finger to touch Nyame’s adinkra charm on my opposite wrist. As I did, I peered more closely at the newcomers.

  I held back a gasp. I could see through them.

  “They’re spirits,” I mumbled, and my knees went limp. “The ancestors.”

  The ancestor in front was a thin older man, with a heavily beaded blanket across one shoulder, short curly hair, and a stern expression. The way he sat with one leg crossed over the other reminded me of Granddad. That didn’t reassure me.

  He nodded at the crowd and bowed to the diviner, who returned an even deeper one.

  Finally, he looked at me and my crew, and his eyes narrowed.

  “And at last…here you are. I must confess, I am deeply disappointed. You’ve taken much, boy. You and the others have stolen your last piece of our culture. No more! We will make an example out of you.”

  I shook my head. “Sir, we didn’t—”

  “You will not lie to my face!” He stabbed a ghostly finger at us. “You were caught in our trap, plain as day. We knew the trickster would send someone, but children? He is truly desperate.”

  Gum Baby blew a raspberry. “This is the worst heist Gum Baby has ever been a part of.”

  “How many heists have you gone on?” I muttered out the side of my mouth.

  She counted on her tiny fingers. “Two.”

  “Not including stealing Eddie’s journal?”

  “Oh. Um, one. This one.”

  I snorted, then froze. Eddie’s journal. An idea tickled the back of my brain. Maybe…just maybe. If I—

  The elderly spirit leaned forward, and the others around him floated closer on their stools, until a semicircle of ancestors hemmed us in.

  “What’s this? Conspiring? No plan will save you and your band of culture-ravagers!”

  I licked my lips. This didn’t look good. But I couldn’t go out like a loser. Somehow, they thought we were a part of some grand circle of thieves, but we were innocent. At least up to that moment. But who would try to break into a fortified mountain, unless they were desperate, like us?

  “Speechless!” The spirit pounded his ceremonial stool with the palm of his hand and shook his head. “You have no defense. First you take our people, then our—”

  My head snapped up.

  Ayanna said, “What?”

  “Wait,” I interrupted. Thandiwe
shifted behind me, but I ignored her and stepped forward. “What do you mean, ‘take your people’? You’ve had people taken, too?”

  The elder’s eyes narrowed. “Do not play the fool, boy. This is no game. This is the life, the history, and the future of my people! You think you can dance your way into this mountain and slip away with our children’s inheritance? With their parents, their brothers, and their sisters?” He slapped his stool again, and when he pointed at us, his finger quivered. “You will tell us why you took them and where they are. One way”—he looked at Thandiwe, who stepped forward with spear and kierie in both hands—“or another.”

  Chestnutt buried her head in Ayanna’s feet, and even Gum Baby gripped my leg tightly. I couldn’t let them down. I had led them here—it was my responsibility to get them out.

  “Fine,” I said.

  Go-time.

  I stepped forward again—only to stop when the edge of a spear gently touched my neck.

  Maybe not go-time, then.

  “Make your next move very slowly, thief.” Thandiwe spat her words out like poison.

  Okay, slow-time.

  I raised my arms very deliberately, keeping my tied hands outstretched, and prayed that—for once—I knew what I was doing.

  “What if I told you I know who took your people? They also took friends of ours and are hunting us even now.”

  The elder ancestor narrowed his eyes. “You—”

  “What if I told you…” I said, riding right over his words and the gasps of the audience. “What if I told you that the other lands of Alke are under the same threat? That because no one talked with each other, and”—I pointed around the room, ignoring the spear at my throat—“because you all closed your borders and refused to come out, you and Nyame and everyone else, you failed to protect everything that you loved.”

  “Be careful, boy,” Thandiwe hissed. “Be very careful.”

  No pressure, then.

  I smiled and, keeping my arms raised, wiggled my left wrist. The Anansi adinkra charm caught the light, and a murmur swept through the crowd surrounding the stage.

  “Let me tell you a story.”

  “A STORY?” THANDIWE STARED AT me, incredulous. She turned to the ancestors. “Honored ones, let me take this…this pretender, this prince of thieves, to the mines, where his words will be the only ones he hears in a long time.”