by Kwame Mbalia
“Wait, where are you going?” I called.
Junior glanced back at me, winked, then dipped his head and put on a burst of speed. I gaped stupidly for a moment before increasing my own pace. We sped through the dark corridor, barely dodging sharp corners as the alley twisted and turned. I gritted my teeth as I tried to keep up. This race wasn’t fair! I didn’t know this route. There was no way I was letting that boy out of my sight.
Suddenly Junior dipped around another corner, and we exploded into a dazzling plaza. I recognized that place! I’d been there before. It was filled with fountains as well as bushes trimmed into the shapes of giant animals—we were near the hidden gate to Nyame’s palace. We’d just avoided the main avenues—which meant we’d avoided his golden sentinels. Now all I had to do was—
BOOM!
A giant golden foot, complete with a fancy golden sandal, crashed to the ground inches away from me. A towering statue of a woman holding a golden stool in one hand and a spear in the other glared down at us. Junior sprinted around it with a wild glint in his eyes. He made a face at me over his shoulder and ran toward two towering marble pillars. The air shimmered between the columns.
Nyame’s gate.
Junior was getting away!
“Hi, Kumi!” I shouted up at the statue. “Bye, Kumi!” The golden woman tilted her head as I waved, running backward. I raised my wrist and jiggled the adinkra bracelet, hoping she would notice the sky god’s charm and not kick me all the way to MidPass. I’d seen her punt before, and let me tell you, NFL teams would be begging her to play for them if they knew.
To my profound relief, Kumi didn’t follow me. She nodded, then turned and resumed guarding the plaza. A thought wriggled to the front of my mind—what exactly was she watching for? My thoughts were interrupted when Junior let out a shout of joy as he ran through Nyame’s gate. I growled and barreled forward.
Once he was past the gate, Junior slowed a bit to marvel at the palace orchards on either side of the path, whistling as he jogged. A sly grin spread across my face. He didn’t know I was right on his heels. He looked back, startled when he saw me, and the whistle died on his lips as he began to run again.
The paved road flew under our feet. Inch by inch, breath by ragged breath, I began to pull even with him. We were shoulder to shoulder. Then slowly, by the slimmest of margins, I pulled ahead! Junior was sweating now, and the plaits had come loose from his ponytail and were fluttering behind him as we flew up one rolling hill and down another. My sides began to cramp, but I didn’t dare slow down to massage them out. Nyame’s palace was just ahead, and I was going to win.
Two black shadows rippled across the path. I didn’t have time to look up, though I noticed they seemed pretty large. The only thing I was focused on was the huge entrance at the base of Nyame’s palace with a curtain of water falling down in front of it. Almost…there…
I slapped the stone wall next to the waterfall just before Junior did, and I threw up both my hands and stood victorious. “Ha!” I said, grinning as Junior sulked. “Take that! Now show me your secret way inside so I can talk to John Henry.”
Junior wiped the sweat from his forehead and calmly tied his plaits back. Then he shrugged. “All right, all right. You beat me. Thought I had you there back at the gate. That old lady never lets me through, but she was distracted by you this time.”
“Yeah, yeah. Quit stalling and get me inside.”
Junior rolled his neck, then flashed a wide, dimpled smile. “Haven’t you figured it out yet? I already did.” He pointed up to the sky. “Personal escorts.”
The huge black shadows from the orchards slid across the ground toward us, and I finally looked up to see who they belonged to. What I saw sent all the air in my lungs rushing out in a giant whoosh.
Huge black wings spread wide.
Ivory white robes trimmed in black-and-gold braid.
Miss Sarah and Miss Rose, goddesses of MidPass, dropped to the ground, stern expressions on their faces.
“Tristan Strong—” Miss Sarah said, staring at me over the top of her glasses.
“—you are in big trouble,” her sister finished.
Junior knew this was gonna happen. He was almost as tricky as Anansi.
The two winged goddesses marched us down marble-and-gold hallways in complete silence. Well…Junior and I were silent. Our guardians kept up a steady stream of commentary. You know the kind—the thing adults do when they’re talking to you and asking you questions, but you don’t dare answer them. It’s a trap! They’re just trying to get you to say something so they can lecture you even more. I call them mom-ologues.
“Honestly, you two—” Miss Sarah said.
“—should know better,” Miss Rose finished.
“Everyone’s very busy, and—”
“—you shouldn’t be disturbing them.”
“In fact—”
“—you should be helping—”
“—instead of playing silly games with this one—” Miss Sarah added.
“—who knows better—”
“—and should be keeping a low profile.”
Junior frowned but didn’t look up. He’d been quiet since we entered the palace, and I could tell he’d gotten in trouble with the Flying Ladies before. The expression on his face reminded me of mine the time my mother caught me trying to do a handstand and eat a stack of Oreos at the same time. Yes, I knew better, but think of how cool it would’ve been if I’d succeeded! Also, yes, I’d fallen and crunched a million Oreo crumbs into the carpet, but you can’t make an omelet without cracking a few eggs.
“And another thing…” Miss Sarah continued, and I groaned under my breath.
Back and forth they went, their large raven-black wings draped over them like cloaks. Miss Sarah, tall and slim with a fade that would’ve made any barber back home proud, wore copper-braid glasses perched on the tip of her nose, while Miss Rose was short and wore a black-and-gold headwrap high atop her head. Both moved quickly, and both looked extremely tired.
We walked through an arched passage and entered an open-ceilinged room filled with soft rosy light. The carpet was grass, strewn with feathery white petals that smelled like vanilla and mint, and a gentle breeze blew through the space. It would’ve been very peaceful and inviting if not for the huge pile of stone, lumber, and tools stacked in the middle. The next room we entered was similar. As was the next. Every one of them was filled with the supplies needed to rebuild the damaged parts of the Golden Crescent. A big reminder that the work wasn’t done yet. But as much as I wanted to help rebuild the second-greatest city I’d ever seen (Chicago over everything, baby), I had another urgent task.
“Um, Miss Sarah, Miss Rose?” I said. “Where are you taking us? I actually came here because I need your help. All of you. Well, I know John Henry is injured, but…” My voice trailed off as the two goddesses came to an abrupt halt and spun around. All the sunlight in the open-air hallway seemed to drain away as the two women loomed over us, their wings stretching around us to prevent our escape.
“What do you know of this?” Miss Rose hissed. Her eyes darted right and left. “Who told you?”
Miss Sarah’s wings flapped once, a single powerful move that lifted her several feet into the air so she could scan the area for eavesdroppers. After a few seconds she landed, nodded at Miss Rose—who sent a bewildered Junior to the far end of the corridor to wait, protesting loudly the whole time—then folded her arms across her chest. “Speak,” she said.
I didn’t have a choice. So, keeping my voice low, I told the goddesses about the events Anansi and I had seen unfold through the SBP. My voice faltered a bit when I came to the part where the Shamble Man attacked John Henry. It was still a shock to me—the man I’d thought was unbeatable, the strongest person ever, had been bested! When I finished, I fell silent and stared hopefully.
Miss Sarah and Miss Rose looked at each other uneasily.
“So it was—” Miss Rose muttered.
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�—who we suspected,” Miss Sarah finished.
“Who?” I asked, unable to control myself. “I have to find him. If you know who it is…”
“If you knew who it is, and what he is capable of, you would not be here, Tristan. You have to leave this to us.”
“Are you going to go find him, whoever the Shamble Man is?”
They shook their heads at the same time. “The Golden Crescent still hasn’t recovered from fighting the iron monsters,” Miss Rose said. “With Brer Rabbit still not one hundred percent, and John Henry…well, it’s just us and Nyame until High John gets back, and it will take more than that to stop…to stop the Shamble Man.”
Before I could protest again and tell them about Nana, a young Alkean girl in pigtails ran up behind us to speak to the goddesses. The girl was out of breath, and the Flying Ladies had to bend over to make out her whispers.
Miss Rose listened for a moment, then scowled. “Again?”
The little girl nodded.
Miss Sarah sighed. “We’ll deal with it. Run along and find your parents.”
The girl skipped away, and the flying goddesses turned as one to face me.
“We’ll have to continue this conversation later,” said Miss Rose. “For now, you two come with us.” We walked over to Junior, who was standing at the end of the hall with a confused look on his face. The goddesses led us into a sitting area surrounding a tiny fountain. In the center of the fountain was a statue of a tiny dancing child. A spout of water shot out of its mouth and landed in the circular marble pool. The oval room’s walls were glossy white and once again there was no ceiling, so the gray light of the overcast sky filled the room. The goddesses stared at the clouds uneasily, murmured to each other, then turned to us.
“You will wait here—” Miss Sarah said.
“—until Nyame returns,” Miss Rose said.
“And don’t speak another word about John Henry.”
“But—” I tried again, and once more they ignored me.
Just then, a booming voice rang from outside. “KUMI, WHERE ARE ROSE AND SARAH?”
“Oh no,” I said under my breath. The sky god did not sound like he was in a great mood. Perfect. Just what I needed. At this rate I was collecting lectures like me and Eddie used to collect Pokémon. Nyame was probably an air type. A hot-air type. The first time I met him, I’d just freed him from the clutches of giant iron monsters who’d been slowly poisoning him to drain him of his powers. Suspicious of all outsiders, he’d instructed Kumi, the warrior statue outside, to escort me and my gang of adventurers to his throne, where he interrogated us mercilessly.
It looked like it was déjà vu.
“Wonderful,” I muttered. “We’re in a perfect place to get yelled at.”
Miss Rose sighed, then pointed a finger at me and Junior. “You two…behave. Understood?”
We both nodded, and the winged goddess pursed her lips in suspicion. Then she and Miss Sarah flapped their wings and soared into the gray sky above. Within seconds it was just me and Junior in the sky god’s sitting room. I stared around with glum resignation. Forget my adinkra bracelet and my now-unresponsive talents as an Anansesem. My superpower was getting lectured. Any moment now Nyame would step out and—
Plunk
Something flew through the air and beaned me in the back of the head. “Hey!” I said, turning and glaring at Junior as I rubbed the sore spot. “What is your problem?”
He squinted at me. “What?”
“Don’t act innocent. Quit messing around before we get in even more trouble.”
He shook his head and turned and walked away. I stared daggers at his back, then moved in the opposite direction. But I hadn’t gone more than a few steps when Junior yelped.
“Ouch!”
When I turned around, he was rubbing his arm and scowling. “Is that how it is?” He picked up a rock and threw it at me. I managed to duck just in time and it whistled past my ear, barely missing.
“Are you serious?” I shouted. This kid was working my last nerve! (I don’t know where that expression comes from, but Dad uses it all the time when I’m bugging him. Can you lose your nerves? Do they disappear as you get older? Where’s the last one? Grown-ups are weird, I tell you.)
“You threw one first!” Junior shouted.
“No, I didn’t. What’s with you? Ever since I got here you’ve been acting like a spoiled brat!”
“I’m not the one with the hero complex,” the boy said through gritted teeth. “I’m sick of hearing about you. ‘Tristan did this. Tristan saved that. Tristan, Tristan, Tristan.’ But when it’s time for the real work, to rebuild what we lost, suddenly the great hero is nowhere to be found.”
My jaw dropped. Was he for real? “Who do you think you’re talking to?”
“You—” He stopped suddenly, looking around. “Wait. Something’s wrong.”
I took a step forward, shaking my head as my temper flared. “Oh no you don’t. Ever since I came here you’ve been messing with me. Talking slick like nothing was gonna happen. Well, now it’s time to put up or shut up.”
“No, I’m serious.” He looked around nervously.
“Yeah, me, too.” I stalked toward him, fully ready to start a fight. I knew good and well it would get me into even more trouble, but at that moment I didn’t care. The Shamble Man had Nana, everyone in Alke was keeping secrets, and this new boy—Mr. Popular—was accusing me of being a fake. I couldn’t take any more. I was a foot away from him when he froze, then looked past me.
“Hey,” he said very carefully, “wasn’t there a fountain in here?”
I stopped, confused. But when I looked around, he was right. The statue of the child was missing, and the room had gone silent. Only the pool remained. All my senses screamed danger, but before I could turn and run, or put up my fists, or even let out a high-pitched scream, a dark shape rose from the top of the wall overhead and hurled itself at me like a missile.
THE DARK SHAPE COLLIDED INTO ME LIKE A RIGHT HOOK. I WENT sprawling to the ground, knocking Junior over in the process. He shouted in surprise; I was hollering up a storm as I tried to defend against the sneak attack, and the small assailant was singing at the top of their lungs.
The attacker peeled off of me—taking some of my arm hairs with them—and skipped, yes, skipped, around the room. I squinted from where I sat on the floor. They were the right size. And yet…
A short, deep-brown creature with a giant head stood a few feet away. Big hollow eyes stared at me, and its oversize hands dangled almost all the way to the floor.
“Oh, you don’t know nobody now.”
Its high-pitched voice made me wince. Junior—our argument forgotten—leaned toward me with a carefully neutral expression and whispered, “You know this…thing?”
I shook my head.
Wrong move.
The creature put its hands on its hips, or tried to, before giving up and stomping to where we sat. “Don’t you know it’s rude to whisper! After everything we’ve been through, you don’t know nobody. You too famous. Got too big for your switches.”
I started to scoot backward, unsure of what was happening. “I…You mean britches? Gum Baby, is that you?”
“There you go again. Always trying to correct somebody. Of course it’s Gum Baby! Who else it gonna be? Bum Gaby? Gum Baby swears you’re the stupidest smart person she knows.”
As the creature stomped forward, something amazing happened. A seam appeared at the top of its giant head, and like a zipper, it began to travel down and peel apart. Wisps of steam escaped as the two halves separated, and out popped a tiny brown doll wearing what looked to be a black-and-gold onesie and box braids.
Gum Baby stood in front of me with her hands on her hips and glared. “After Gum Baby saved your behind, you gonna act brand-new. And here she was, ready to invite you to join her next secret mission.”
I stood up, and Junior did as well. “What mission?” I asked. “And…wait, what’s with the disguise?”
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Gum Baby stopped glaring and smiled proudly. “It’s a sap suit! Gum Baby designed it herself. Well, sort of. Gum Baby got the idea from Anansi. See, he pretended to be Brer Rabbit, but it was really a disguise. So Gum Baby figured she’d create her own disguise. Nobody will ever know it’s her!”
I looked at the suit, which was slowly collapsing under its own weight, then at the fountain. “And…you pretended to be a fountain? How did you get the water to flow out of the sap suit?”
Gum Baby shook a hand at me, sending sap everywhere, and begin to fold up the suit until it was the size of a sticky handkerchief. Then she tied the corners around her neck and draped it over her shoulders like a cloak. “Flow? Gum Baby just spat out a stream of water. Tasted nasty, too.”
I looked at the pool, remembered trailing my fingers through what I thought was fountain water, and grew nauseated.
“Anyway,” Gum Baby continued. “There’s a new mission. And should you choose to accept it—which you will, because Gum Baby didn’t spit out a gallon of dirty water for you to get a case of the shiver knees—we need to go now. You can even bring your friend.”
Junior and I glanced at each other. “He’s not my friend,” we both said at the same time.
“Jinx. Now you two can’t talk until Gum Baby says so. Let’s go. John Henry’s waiting.”
And with that, the tiny loudmouth stomped while—get this—muttering stomping sounds.
“Is she always like this?” Junior asked.
I sighed, nodded, then followed her. What choice did I have? She, apparently, knew where John Henry was, and if I was going to find out who the Shamble Man was, where he was keeping my grandmother, and why he apparently hated me, well (and I really hated to admit this)…I had to listen to Gum Baby.
Nyame’s palace reminded me of a shopping mall built out of sunsets and dreams. Golden walls rose out of polished stone floors so shiny I could see my reflection in them. More waterfalls spilled over doorways that led to rooms of all sizes. Bedrooms, chambers, halls, auditoriums, alcoves, atriums, and—more than I could count—sunrooms. Of course the sky god would have a bajillion sunrooms. I pictured Nyame sitting in a golden rocking chair while reading the paper and I snorted.
