by Dele Daniel
“There you are.”
I jumped. Although I hadn’t gone far along the outskirts of the woods, I’d been under the impression that I was fairly hidden and undetectable from those around me. But there really was no such thing as hiding from Remington, at least not for me. It was like he could sense my presence anywhere—a characteristic about him that could certainly be annoying at times like this.
“You all right, Genesis?”
I continued staring up at the stars, just as I had been before he’d interrupted my attempts to sort through my jumbled thoughts. I remained quiet, knowing there was no reason for me to answer. My mouth would default to telling lies, making me say that I was fine, and Remington would just dismiss such a false claim.
Hearing his footsteps steadily growing closer, I briefly glanced at him when he stopped at my side and then turned my focus back to the stars. Wordlessly, he looked up at the stars with me, simply joining me in companionable silence, away from the prying eyes of everyone else.
The stars seemed brighter than usual, making the night not seem as dark as it should have been. Why the stars were captivating me so, I did not know; maybe I was hoping they would make my heart lighter and brighter too, echoing the effect they had on the night sky.
“It’s not fair,” I said, the words leaving my mouth before I was even consciously aware of them. I glanced around nervously, double-checking that we were alone even though I already knew we were. No one else had been within earshot for quite some time. I had lost track of how long it had been since someone was near, which was why Remington had managed to sneak up on me in the first place.
I sighed heavily, allowing myself to feel precisely what I’d been trying desperately not to—frustration, uncertainty, fear, confusion.
But in Remington’s presence, it seemed okay. It felt safe to let it all out.
“It’s not fair for all of this to be placed on Prince,” I said. “When Jason first told me about the Arnazuri leader, I’d been doubtful at first, but I eventually came to believe in it. It was exciting, you know? But now?” I shook my head. “How can it be my little brother? It’s not supposed to be him! It should be someone . . . I don’t know. Someone older, that’s for sure. And someone . . . someone more mature. Someone who can actually handle this kind of pressure, not some kid! Prince is just a child! It’s not right to depend on him for this kind of thing. It’s too much pressure! How could the gods let this happen? What kind of gods would let this happen, Remington? How could they be so cruel? This whole prophecy stuff—it all feels like a sick, twisted joke now. It’s nonsense, just like it’s always been! Just like I always thought. I see that now. Prince doesn’t even want to be the Chief. He doesn’t know what that kind of role entails. And why should he? How could the gods possibly think he, of all people, was suited for this? It just doesn’t make sense!”
My words came out in a rush, and by the time I was done venting, my breaths were coming out quick and shallow. My throat felt dry and irritated, and my eyes stung. I clenched my fists at my sides and continued staring up at the sky, as if staring hard enough would make the gods themselves appear to give me an explanation for their foolishness.
“I’m just so . . . angry,” I said, suddenly feeling drained.
“I know,” Remington said after a prolonged pause. “But, Genesis, you have to remember that the gods have infinite wisdom. It may be hard to believe right now, especially since you so firmly disagree with them, but at the end of the day, they know what’s best. They always know what’s best, even if we can’t make sense of it. That’s what makes them gods.”
I pressed my lips into a tight line, refraining from saying that the gods were terribly mistaken if they thought making my baby brother the chief of the movement he hardly understood was the right thing to do.
Remington moved closer to me. “If it’s any consolation, I personally believe that the leader in Prince will eventually rise up to the occasion, when it’s time. He’s your little brother, so I think it’s only natural that you underestimate his strength. You’ve known him for his whole life, and you’re too close to him to see it. But trust me, it’s there.”
I shook my head but found no words I believed worthy of being said. I was too emotionally drained to argue with Remington anyhow.
“A man’s fear always holds him back,” he continued, “but when he’s forced to face what he fears—when he’s thrown into that fear—that’s when the courage arises.” He paused, letting his words register with me. I briefly looked sideways at him and he smiled slightly. “I bet you never knew that I was actually afraid of hunting in the beginning, did you?”
I blinked and raised an eyebrow. Remington, the boy who’d helped me adapt to the life of a hunter, once afraid of hunting? Impossible.
Yet, he nodded, answering my unspoken doubt. “Yeah. I was terrified of hunting for a long time. You see, my father was injured really badly by a hippopotamus. That’s how he died, actually. We all thought he was going to get better, but the injuries proved to be fatal and he died a few days later.”
My jaw dropped open. In all the time I’d known Remington, I had never known this detail about his father’s death. It suddenly felt like a major shortcoming in our friendship. How was it even possible for me to have never inquired about precisely how my best friend’s father had died? After all this time, I’d just assumed he’d grown ill and passed away. Remington had never given me the full details before, and I, for some reason, had never asked.
“Your father died . . . from hunting?” I said, thunderstruck.
Remington nodded. “It was bad. None of us even know how he made it home with those kinds of injuries.” His eyes glazed over, and I knew he was undoubtedly seeing terrible memories replaying in his head. My own mind conjured horrific images of Remington’s dad, bloodied and battered, staggering home from the jungle with life-threatening injuries that had no hope of healing.
“Seeing him like that, I vowed on that very day to never hunt,” Remington said. “I swear, I wanted nothing to do with hunting from that point on. I was afraid. But my uncle—let’s just say he was a man who didn’t tolerate fear. And with my father gone, he felt it was his responsibility to teach me how to be a man, and to teach me the importance of facing my fears. So one day, he claimed he wanted to talk to me. That he wanted to go on a walk. I went with him, thinking nothing of it. That is, until we started getting closer to the jungle. I tried asking him where we were going and what he wanted to talk about, but he wouldn’t say anything. He didn’t say anything until he’d taken me right into the jungle. Would you believe he told me to not come home until I’d killed some game for food? I was just a kid, eight or nine years old, and he literally made it my responsibility to feed the family on that day. I was scared out of my mind, but I knew that if I didn’t catch some game, my family wouldn’t be eating. I got it in my head that if my family starved, it would be all my fault. It would be my fear’s fault. So I had no choice but to face my fear that day. Just in the nick of time, my courage sprang out, and by the grace of the gods, I killed five animals that day.”
Remington finished his story and I remained silent, at a loss for words. Images of Remington in his younger days came to my mind. I stared at him, practically able to see the young boy he’d once been years ago. It all made sense now. After he’d gone through such an ordeal with his uncle, go figure he had been able to give me a pep talk about hunting when I first began hunting school. But in hindsight, something nagged at me . . .
“When we first started hunting school,” I said, the memory coming back to me, “after our first kill—I could have sworn it bothered you, even if only a little bit. You tried to comfort me afterward, but I could tell you were bothered by it too . . .”
Remington shook his head. “It only bothered me because it reminded me of my actual first kill. When I saw how freaked out you were, it took me right back to being that kid, scared in the jungle, abandoned by my uncle.”
“That makes
sense,” I said, amazed to be hearing a different narrative for a memory that I’d had for so long. It wasn’t particularly cold out, but I shuddered anyway, feeling my flesh breaking out into goose bumps just thinking about what Remington had been through. If I had been in his position at such a young age, I’m not sure what I would have done. Hunting was second nature to me now, but it almost made me sick to think about being thrown into such a frightening situation at the tender age of eight or nine, especially after witnessing a parent’s death from a related mishap.
I shuddered again.
Remington, who’d been looking off into the distance, turned to look at me, either seeing me shudder from the corner of his eye or feeling my keen gaze on the side of his face. Our eyes locked, and suddenly, the young boy I remembered him as was replaced by the young man he had now become. It was an admirable transformation, but still, I knew the young boy would always be lurking just beneath the surface, shaping and informing that man Remington was becoming.
And after all these years, it occurred to me that Remington was the most courageous boy I had never met.
CHAPTER 7
After Remington’s revealing story, he left me alone with my thoughts, understanding that I wanted to be alone again for a while. But as the night grew later, darker, and colder, I knew it wasn’t wise for me to stay on my own much longer. I had a strong suspicion that Remington had stayed close by, keeping watch over me from somewhere out of view until my father would later request for him to deliver a message to me.
Nevertheless, I returned to the grounds of my father’s cabin, positioning myself within the safety of fellow Hawk members. As I got back within the Hawk circle, it became obvious that the revelation regarding Prince’s new role as the so-called Arnazuri Chief had firmly remained on the minds of everyone who’d been present to witness Kano’s declaration. For the rest of the night, everywhere I turned, I heard people whispering and muttering about it. As much as I wanted to pretend the whole thing had never happened, I knew there was no turning back from it, particularly since so many were automatically taking the revelation seriously. But I suppose that was to be expected; while I had always doubted the legitimacy of prophecies, at least before meeting Jason, plenty of Arnazuri had always believed in them just as vehemently as my father had. And it seemed that plenty of such people were on the premises now. As a result, in the early hours of the following morning, Remington and my father decided a meeting was needed to figure out our next steps after such a surprising happenstance.
The sun had barely risen when my family and the rest of the Hawk members still on the premises crowded inside the small cabin once again. The combined anxiety, excitement, and curiosity permeating the air was stifling, and I found myself struggling to simply breathe without feeling a sense of panic. I sat beside my mother and Prince, while Father, Remington, and Kano stood before the crowd, looking out at everyone. Father’s face was stoic, although I could still easily see his hidden uncertainty, even if no one else could. In contrast, Remington looked perfectly confident, his countenance relaying that he believed every word he had uttered to me the night before. As for Kano—he had reverted back to his normal state of nervousness and was having a hard time coping with so many pairs of eyes being fixated in his direction.
“Good morning,” Remington said, his voice low but managing to instantly silence everyone. “Thank you all for gathering here with us again. Today, we’re here to discuss Mr. Prince Romunda, the new Arnazuri Chief.”
Prince squirmed beside me, and I heard a sharp intake of breath come from my mother on the other side of me. It was going to take a long time for all of us to get used to hearing Prince being addressed in such a fashion. I briefly touched his forearm, trying to offer him some form of comfort, for I could see the redness rising to his cheeks despite his dark skin.
“What we need to decide,” Remington pressed on, “is how we’re going to let the rest of the Arnazuri tribe know that this day is upon us. That our leader has been uncovered. The news is still new, and therefore, the knowledge of it has yet to leave our small circle.” He waved his hand around at those of us present. It didn’t strike me until then that the handful of us had actually witnessed firsthand an event that was sure to go down in Arnazuri history, for better or for worse. Dismissing the thought for now, I refocused on what Remington was saying. “However, with the outside world being so hostile toward us, it’s going to be quite a challenge to get this news to spread as far as we need it to.”
Muttering began to drift through the cabin again.
Father stepped forward. “This is something that we’ve been discussing late into the night,” he said, his eyes landing meaningfully on me. He knew that I had been avoiding him. That’s why he had ultimately sent Remington back out to retrieve me.
“I know you want to be alone,” Remington had said, “but your father sent me. He wants to talk with you.”
“I don’t want to talk,” I’d said.
Remington had nodded. “I figured that much. Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.”
More than likely, Father had wanted my opinion on how to spread word about Prince’s new title. But since I had declined to meet with him, it seemed that Remington had stood in for me. Their brainstorming session must have apparently come up short though.
“We are open to suggestions,” Father said, averting his gaze from me and addressing the crowd at large.
“Only members of different tribes aren’t allowed to be seen together. We just need to contact other Arnazuri families. I don’t see why this should be so hard,” one of the Hawk members said.
“That’s true,” Father said. “Nonetheless, this is sensitive news and we’ve got to be careful. Spies are everywhere. Something like this could easily be overheard. The king undoubtedly has eyes and ears everywhere these days, and we’d be stupid to not be mindful of this. We can’t risk not being careful, because if the Kingfishers find out that we have a leader of our own . . . if they find out who he is . . . the consequences . . .” Father’s voice trailed off.
A cold chill ran down my spine. In all my shock over simply finding out that Prince was to be the Arnazuri Chief, I hadn’t spared much thought to the possible consequences of word about his new role reaching the wrong ears. A wave of nausea suddenly came over me, and I swayed on the spot. Likely sharing the same thought, Mother glanced at me, her expression grim and frightened.
I looked back toward Father, seeing the way the muscles in his jaws clenched. I got the feeling that he must have been fighting nausea of his own at the thought of what could happen to Prince if the royals found out his destiny.
I couldn’t even dare look at Prince to see how he was reacting. “Let’s just send letters then,” someone else suggested.
Remington shook his head. “Letters are way too easy to intercept. There’s no doubt in my mind that royal guards will be personally checking all mail from now on. Plus, with the Arnazuri community being so scattered and displaced right now, there’s no convenient way of sending out letters in the first place. It would be virtually impossible.”
“This is so stupid,” another Hawk member chimed in. “You guys are making things far more difficult than it needs to be. All we need is word of mouth! We can just travel out together in small groups, and whenever we come across fellow Arnazuris, we spread the word and tell them to do the same when they run into other Arnazuris.”
“Don’t you think King Henry and his guards will get suspicious if we all just started wandering around aimlessly, whispering to each other?” someone challenged. “Let’s face it. The king and his people know about the Hawks. This isn’t a secret group anymore. They’re on to us—that’s why the new law was passed to begin with. If they see us out and about, they’ll know something was up. And then they’ll probably have us all killed. That’s what they want anyway. Let’s not make it easier for them.”
“King Henry won’t know! He and his people will just think we all chickened out and are running for cov
er—which is what they want. It makes sense, doesn’t it? They’ll figure that we heard about how we aren’t supposed to mingle with other tribes anymore, and they’ll think we’re all just trying to find our own kind so that we can live together peacefully, keeping to ourselves. What reason would they have for thinking we were passing along secret messages to each other, about our own chief? How would they even know that we know of there being such things as Arnazuri kings and chiefs? It’s not on their radar. King Henry will think our only concern is protecting ourselves from his wrath! He won’t know we’ve secretly found our leader.”
“So we walk around in small groups, whispering to ourselves about our new leader, and then what?” Remington said. “How would we go on from there? What do we do after that? And again, how do we keep from getting overheard? Like Mr. Romunda just said, King Henry has eyes and ears everywhere. Word of mouth is not a foolproof method. And gods forbid the word accidentally reaches the wrong ears . . .” Remington swallowed. “Besides, they killed Prince Jason because they knew about his . . . his relationship with . . . I’m sure they knew he’d shared sensitive information with the Arnazuri people because of his traveling with Genesis . . .” He swallowed again, making a great deal of effort to not look at me, perhaps afraid that his mentioning of Jason would send me into another fit of grief.
I took a deep breath and averted my gaze.
Always ready for a fight, Leni stood to his full and unimpressive height, his chin in the air, ready to add his two cents to the argument. “Excuse me,” he said, his voice ringing out loud and clear, cutting through the cabin. Everyone shifted and turned toward him, either eager or reluctant to hear what he had to say. He began moving forward, his eyes searching through the crowd until he spotted me and my family—or Prince, more accurately. “While everyone is too busy fighting amongst themselves, throwing out their worthless opinions, “I’m just curious as to why everyone is speaking about what our chief should do, as if he isn’t here to speak for himself. Surely, he deserves a say in the matter. After all, we’re supposed to be following him.”
