Zahrah the Windseeker

by Nnedi Okorafor

"I'll take the honey," I said quietly. "If it kills me, then so be it. It's a chance I'm willing to take."

  The wood wit's eyebrows went up, and it tilted its face to the side.

  "Are you sure?" it asked.

  I wasn't really, but before I could say so, a large group of bees flew from the hive and over my head to the tree behind me. They picked a large purple leaf and dropped it at my feet. I slowly bent down to pick it up, trying to ignore the fact that I may have just chosen to die in the Greeny Jungle.

  A few bees hovered before my eyes, and some of them circled around my waist.

  "They want you to come and take what you want," the wood wit said.

  I looked up at the spiny tree as I walked toward it. It was an odd tree. The ground underneath it was covered with fragrant spines that grew thicker the closer I got to it. The large waxy hive was over three feet thick and built to fill the entire seven-foot-long and three-foot-wide crack in the tree. The bees all moved up to reveal the lower section of their large, honey-engorged comb. I looked up at the hive, near the top, as some bees moved about. Underneath I could see many compartments in the comb that were filled with what looked like white balls: bee babies, larvae, the hive's nursery. Several fuzzy bees that were yellow but with no black stripes guarded them.

  The wood wit's face moved next to the part of the hive closest to me. I resisted the urge to reach out and touch the face. Its round knobby cheekbones and thick lips looked soft, but I knew if I touched them, they would be hard as, well, wood.

  "Just use your hand," the wood wit said.

  I hesitated and then raised my hand to the golden honeycomb that glowed in the filtered jungle sunlight. The combs looked so perfect. Every single tiny cell had six sides, hexagons. I took a deep breath, thinking about Dari and how this was all for him and my safe return home. Then I dug my hand into the honeycomb. There was a soft popping sound and honey oozed around my hand. I held open the leaf and plopped down a large chunk of succulent honeycomb. Then I took some more and kept packing it in until the leaf was heavy.

  "Aren't you going to have a taste?" the wood wit said as I started to close the leaf.

  I looked at the package and then at the wood wit. The bees bustled over the beehive, appearing to work, though even I knew they were paying attention to me. A bunch of them flew down to start repairing the place where I had taken my share. The thought that the honey could poison me was, of course, still on my mind. So I planned to take the honey with me, find a nice baobab tree to climb into, and stare at it until I got the nerve to have a taste. If I could get up in a tree. It probably wasn't possible, not without putting something in my stomach first.

  "I was going to," I said.

  "Well, go on then," it said. "Might as well find out if you're going to live or die right now. I'm certainly curious."

  I opened the leaf and looked at the golden, sticky honeycomb. It seemed like normal honey. I held it to my nose and sniffed. It smelled slightly of mangoes. The bees probably produced their honey using mango flower pollen. I frowned. What if they used pollen from those mystic mango trees? Then maybe the honey would smell bitterer, I thought. I grunted to myself, feeling lightheaded from the whip scorpion's poison, hunger, fear, and exhaustion.

  "OK," I said. "I'm going to just do it."

  I brought the open leaf to my mouth, held my breath, and took a bite. The bees suddenly burst into a melodious chorus of buzzing, several of them flying into the air and parading around the tree. I glanced up at them for a moment, and then all my senses were overtaken by the honey. My initial thoughts: Waxy, chewy, and ... extremely sweet and delicious! I took more bites. My body responded as if the honey were water and I was extremely dehydrated. Before I knew it, I had eaten over half of what I'd taken.

  "Oh," I grunted, honey and wax all over my face. I stopped and blinked, becoming aware of myself again. "Oh," I said again. I wrapped up the rest of the honey. "Thank y—" Then it hit me. It felt like hands angrily clenching my stomach and twisting. Then it felt as if my head were exploding and oozing out of my ears! I screamed and fell to the ground, and before everything went black I heard the wood wit laughing. Laughing and laughing and laughing hard enough to shake the entire Greeny Jungle. I'd fallen to the ground and curled up next to the tree, still clutching the leaf full of honey, my eyes shut tight. But within minutes the bellyache passed completely. I gasped and quickly sat up. All my muscles groaned in unison but...

  "What?" I whispered out loud.

  I slowly, achingly sat up and looked at the tree. The wood wit was nowhere in sight. The beehive, however, was still there, covered completely with bees, including the place where I had taken the honeycomb chunk. They acted as if I weren't there, their buzzing unanimated and monotonous.

  It took me a moment to realize it, but when I did, I patted my hands around my body. I was OK. I could feel the change. The poison wasn't gone. It wouldn't be gone for months. But I was alive and going to live. I stood up, stretched my legs, and rubbed the side of my head.

  "OK," I whispered. Then I turned to the beehive. "Thank you."

  For a moment, their buzzing grew slightly louder, then it returned to normal. I clutched the leaf of remaining honey to my chest and made my way back to my things. I was all right, and that meant Dari still had a chance. I looked up at the treetops, rubbing my dirty hands on my clothes. No longer did I think sleep was dangerous, so I planned to take a long rest.

  Chapter 17

  Some Time to Ease My Mind

  I spent the next day in a nice baobab tree. Despite the fact that I was able to get a good night's sleep, I still felt exhausted when morning came. "Just one day," I told myself. The poison would remain in my blood for months, and I still had the risk of falling asleep anytime my blood pressure got high. I didn't know what I was going to do about this, but I knew I would keep going ... after I took a little time to get used to the idea that this could happen.

  "Laziness is unforgivable, but a little down time is essential after hard work. It recharges your batteries," my mother always says. And I certainly felt I'd been hard at work since entering the jungle. Working to stay alive and lucky to be alive. I didn't bother tying myself with a vine. And though I slept well, I dreamed of the wood wit and its knowing laugh and of the spots and lines that signified a death by scorpion poison. In my last dream, I died and all went black, like falling into a deep sleep; like the one Dari was in or the one I could now fall into if I got too scared. I woke up shivering, with tears streaming down my face.

  Still, the tree I was in was a good one. It was the tallest in the area and not too fat, with very rough bark, making the trunk easy to climb. And it had many thick branches that led all the way to the top. It felt homey and safe.

  Because these trees killed the plants and trees around them, they gave me a clear view of what was going on below. Baobab trees also seemed to discourage many creatures from making a home in them. My digi-book said, "There's something about the baobab tree that the creatures of the jungle have a problem with. Is it a stench? Particularly rough branches? We do not know, but it's certainly something. Possibly just a bad vibe. We've seen only small groups of birds and the occasional tree sloth and flying squirrel in them."

  After I woke up and shook off the nightmare in which I died, I lay awake for a while feeling disturbed and agitated.

  I slowly climbed down, cleaned my whip-scorpion wound with some water, and patted some soil on it. It looked better; the blue spots on my skin were gone. But the wound was crusted over with a thick, bluish scab, an obvious sign that the poison was still in my blood, even if I was alive. Then I ate the rest of the honeycomb. This time eating it made me feel better, more refreshed and energetic. I sighed, thinking of the tricky wood wit. It had helped me, even though it seemed a little crazy. Like the Dark Market, sometimes things weren't what they seemed.

  I spent the rest of the morning reading passages from the field guide. I reread the edible fruits chapter, the chapters on small Greeny Jungle pon
ds and balloon frogs, and a long chapter on Greeny Jungle panthers, yet another "truly deadly" Greeny beast I might soon encounter. I tried my best not to think about the fact that I could instantly fall asleep if I met one of these beasts. If I can't do anything about it, I told myself, it's a waste of energy to worry about it.

  The panthers I read about were different from panthers found in the small patches of forest within the Ooni Kingdom. Greeny Jungle panthers were larger and more muscular, had bigger green eyes that could see farther and sharper teeth, and were very, very intelligent. Why is it that everything in the forbidden jungle is always scarier? I thought.

  "This is the only large cat in the jungle. We believe that this is because they've killed off all of their direct competitors. Black as the inside of a cave on a cloudy night, Greeny panthers move smoothly like oil, silently like the shadows of ghosts. Males and females mate for life. If you see one, be careful; there is always another close by."

  I shivered but continued reading about their breeding habits, their preferred food, and, most important, the best way to survive an encounter with one.

  Panthers like to ambush their prey from treetops. One minute you're walking along your merry way, the next, a panther has jumped on you and is tearing your head off. By this time, prepare to say hello to death. You have no chance. Panthers are expert killers.

  Several of us have seen a friend die in this way. Panthers go right for the throat, and its companion will mate sure the job is finished quicly going for the chest. Trying to scramble up a nearby tree is hopeless because, obviously panthers are excellent tree climbers. They'd probably like you to climb up a tree. They might even stop and give you the chance to do so. Panthers prefer to eat their meals there.

  Now, panthers despise the smell of lemons. To them lemons smell the way poo smells to us. Would you want to eat anything that smelled like poo? When they smell it, their nostrils flare and they start to sneeze in disgust. Thus the minute you start seeing ravaged car-casses dangling from tree branches, find yourself a patch of lemongrass (click the link for a description of lemongrass and where to find it).

  Hopefully it won't be too late. And when you see a panther, do not run. It only gets them more excited, and when excited, they are often willing to ignore the bad smell. And trust us, if you're in the jungle for more than four days, you will see a panther. Assume it. Be ready for it.

  I clicked on the lemongrass link and held my breath, hoping with all my heart that the digi-book wouldn't choose to malfunction. It didn't, thankfully, and I memorized the information.

  That afternoon I practiced levitating. For the past few days, I'd practiced for an hour before going to sleep. Dari would have wanted me to do so. "It's stupid to waste talent," he always said.

  So on these days, I sat high in the trees and used my talent. I no longer had to close my eyes to gather concentration. And though I could float from one branch to another and had significantly conquered much of my fear of heights by climbing trees day after day, I still was too afraid to attempt actual flight.

  I have to try to get over this, I thought. The idea of zooming about high in the air gave me the same nausea as on the day I'd driven with my mother to the center of Ile-Ife and looked up at the tall plant towers. Nevertheless, I was better than I'd been a week and a half ago. Much, much better.

  I pushed my satchel and bundle close to the tree trunk and scooted farther out on the branch. I no longer needed to hang on to nearby branches. I knew how I'd react if I fell off, and it was to my advantage. A few days before, I'd done exactly that, and as I fell, I'd instinctively caught myself before I could collide with the branch below. Once again, I was assured that I could rely on my instincts. I'd hovered in the air for a moment, completely surprised. Then I'd reached for a nearby branch and pulled myself onto it.

  I stretched out my legs on the wide branches and leaned back on my elbows. Then I willed the spiral of wind to circulate around me. In the baobab tree, I smiled as I felt myself lifting. For a while I let my body get used to the sensation. I looked around. It was only in the last three days that I was able to do this, felt comfortable enough to do this, allowed myself to do this. Before, I'd had to focus on a focal point.

  I looked up at the branch above.

  "OK, Zahrah," I said to myself. "Focus."

  I took several short breaths and then hummed the tune of my favorite song, "Reedy Bells." I didn't know why I was humming, but the vibration in my chest was somehow calming. Whatever works, I thought. Slowly, I floated up to the branch above me. I had never done this before. I had been able to float from one level branch to the next but not from the branch below to the branch above. The branches were very wide, and this required more maneuvering. I smiled, maintaining my concentration. Now the next one.

  Again I floated up. But was I really floating now, now that I was actually controlling my movement while in midair? Maybe. Maybe not. I went all the way to the top and laughed loudly. I didn't know why. Maybe it was the feeling of the shock from the whip-scorpion encounter finally lifting from my shoulders. Or maybe it was just the success of it all.

  I remembered Nsibidi's words, which seemed like they were said so long ago: "The rest will come when you want it to."

  I didn't want it to just yet, but someday, maybe when I was a few years older, I might.

  Chapter 18

  The Carnigourd

  I thought I'd gotten a good idea of the jungle's range by reading the digi-book and from my own experiences, but the next three days really broadened my view.

  I saw black-and-white, long-limbed spider monkeys, frowning day owls, huge snails that sucked the bark and moss from trees, oily black spiders fat with venom, papery-skinned chameleons, fire ants that glowed orange with poison, anteaters that fed on the fire ants and breathed out smoke after each meal, black honeypot ants with bulbous behinds and long, thick antennae, grasshoppers the size of my hand, friendly dwarf impalas that barely came up to my knees, snickering parrots, laughing doves, and plenty of nofly birds (orange-beaked black birds with lovely wings who refused to use them) running from bush to bush.

  There were wild light-bulb trees that glowed all sorts of colors at night and short fat current trees (I made sure not to get close to these trees. The electrical current they produce will make all the muscles in your body cramp up if you just brush against one). I even saw a wild CPU plant! Now I know what the plants are like when free of human manipulation. It grew as a giant red flower with a wide leafy base. The flower was a monitor, and it was so bright that that night I could still see it glowing a mile away. I wondered if the flower connected itself to the network and what it did once there.

  Eventually I did come across a few ponds. Some were large, others small. I refilled my water bottles and washed quickly in the ones that weren't mucked up with algae. In two of the larger ponds, I spotted armored alligators, blue-veined turtles, and glass fish. I giggled with delight when I came across a yellow balloon frog. The moment it saw me, it did exactly what the field guide said it would: puff itself up with self-produced helium and float away. And, of course, there were all kinds of mosquitoes, gnats, and flies.

  Not surprisingly, I encountered more deadly pod plants. I'd looked them up in my digi-book the night I'd seen the first one eat a horse. They were called Carnigourds, and they ate anything that came close enough. I'd been lucky and smart to keep my distance. The second time I encountered one, however, I wasn't so fortunate. This Carnigourd was hidden behind several high bushes and creeping plants. I didn't walk directly in front of it, but I did walk close enough for it to grab my ankle with one of its dry brown roots.

  I was deep in thought. It had been so many days, and with each day, I worried more about how I was running out of time. But how could I hurry when I didn't know exactly where I was going? All I knew was that elgorts were deep in the Greeny Jungle, and to go deep meant going north.

  I diverted my mind to thinking about my friendship with Dari instead. I remembered how we us
ed to climb trees and study together, and how he used to laugh at me when I was at a loss for words. And how he laughed even harder at my fear of heights and sometimes the dark. I'm no longer really afraid of either one, Dari, I'd been thinking.

  And I wasn't. I was no longer afraid of many things. I wasn't afraid of the pink-skinned lizard I'd seen that second day in the jungle. These lizards were quite common, and they usually searched for their meals in the morning. They ate parasites that clung to the roots of trees. This was good for the trees, since these underground plants tended to sap nutrients directly from the trees' roots.

  These ferocious-looking Morning Skin Dragons, as they are called, were actually bashful creatures that ran away when anything approached them, including me. Once, however, I dug up a root parasite and was able to coax a small dragon to take it right from my hand. If Dari could only dee me now, I thought.

  I remembered how pleased he'd been three years ago when I'd finally followed him up into a baobab tree. He'd been trying to persuade me to climb one since the fifth day we'd met.

  "Just the first branch," he'd always say. "It's fun up here."

  I'd believed him. As I clung to the low branch for dear life, Dari clapped with delight and laughed. He laughed so loud that my mother came out to see what was going on. When she saw me in the tree, she exclaimed, "Zahrah! You're in the tree! That's great!"

  That had been a good day.

  "We'll have more good days, Dan," I said as I walked and the Carnigourd's root crept up behind me.

  I looked up at the sky through the trees, and at that moment I saw something yellow zoom by. It was the size of a ... person? Was that a person? I wasn't sure. I stopped and stood staring at the sky, hoping to see it again. This was my biggest mistake. I had almost been out of the Carnigourd's reach.

  Its root took advantage of the moment, quickly wrapping itself around my ankle and pulling me to the ground. I hit my forehead painfully in the dirt and felt my side being scraped by pebbles, rocks, and dead leaves as the Carnigourd slowly pulled me across the jungle floor. My mind reeled with images of Dari, crushed bones, plant digestive juices, and pain. I panicked, thrashing my body back and forth in an attempt to free myself.