by Reni K Amayo
Sergeant Olu’s mouth gaped before he collected himself.
She softly touched the mark that the Mother’s crystal had left on her hand.
‘Listen, you don’t—’ he began.
‘They burn witches,’ Sinai interrupted. Sergeant Olu fell silent. The kingdom did burn those found guilty of witchcraft. The hot flames scorched their skin as the smoke filled their nose. They could not let that be Meekulu’s fate. They all loved the old woman too much to let her burn before the masses. Sergeant Olu could not fight against the Eze’s wishes. The only option they had was to appeal to the Eze, and Sinai had the most clout.
‘I’ll make the appeal,’ Sinai said.
THE ÌHÈ COURTYARD
CITY OF NRI
SINAI WORE a silk cloak over her scanty night piece as she walked through the empty hallways. The rich indigo sky was filled with splashes of red. It was still far too early for anyone to be awake. The only beings that kept Sinai company were the kestrel birds, which called at the budding sun.
For once, Sinai’s head was completely empty. She took steps towards the Obis’ quarter and watched as the palace decor became increasingly rich. The marbled floor glistened with small crystals and the gold and bronzed ornaments placed by the walls were far more extravagant than the wooden pieces that she was accustomed to. The heavy stones and glittering gold weighed on her chest. She felt trapped by the large pillars emblematic of duty and formality. The weight of the hall, the weight of what she was going to do, was crushing her soul.
Sinai took in a strangled breath before pausing abruptly.
She cocked her head and strained to hear the faint sound that had stopped her in her tracks. In that moment all she could hear was light wind. Wait. She looked around frantically and moved closer to the phantom sound. She stumbled away from the Obis’ quarters and inched towards one of the large windows. A distant scream echoed on the light breeze.
Meekulu? Sinai thought manically, before kicking up her heels and sprinting down the halls towards the faraway screams. Sinai’s feet slapped against the cold floor. The distant yells were becoming increasingly loud, and soon Sinai could distinguish tortured words.
‘Death meets … me as death, death, death … will meet you!’
‘Meekulu!’ Sinai screamed into the morning air. The old woman’s words were suddenly muffled crackling fire. Sinai crashed to the ground as she tried to turn a corner. Doors cracking open behind her but she scrambled to her feet and dashed on.
‘Eze, Aljaneṣu-ojọọ, the fraud, the serpent, the thief, the murderer
She will come again and she will come in two.’
‘No, no, no!’ Sinai cried, as a sickening waft of burnt flesh curled around her.
‘But death will meet me as it will meet you!
No life, no hope, no days to come
But it is how it was always to be done.’
The hallway split into two corridors and Sinai couldn’t distinguish which side the screams came from.
‘Justice rotten and cruel will be reborn through you
Through your ashes my ashes more ashes.’
Tears ran down Sinai’s face as she impulsively skidded down the right-hand hallway. But to her dismay, Meekulu’s screams quietened.
‘Noooo!’ Sinai screamed, jumping up and down violently in rage. She had chosen the wrong corridor. She spun on her heels and rushed towards the hall junction, before curving around to the corridor on the left side. Sinai dashed through the hallway, but stopped abruptly as something bright caught the corner of her eye. She scrambled back towards the wide window, and convulsed with horror; her whole body shook. Far below in the Ìhè courtyard, Meekulu was engulfed in angry red flames.
‘We burn, I burn, I breathe and will breathe forever and always, I live for I love and they love forever and always.
‘Meekulu!!’ Sinai screamed so hard that her voice broke, her arms outstretched to the old woman. Sinai jumped onto the ledge of the window, just as a burst of flames swallowed Meekulu, silencing her forever.
Hot lava coursed through Sinai’s body. She screamed at the top of her lungs as gathering winds whipped her hair and garments violently around her. Her eyes shone bright and golden. She was filled with a rage so powerful it almost blinded her. Sinai threw her hands to the heavens as she abandoned all hope and all control. She succumbed to the sensation that rocked her body at its core. Thick black curls of smoke bled through her palms and spread through the hall. Sinai found herself completely lost.
Boom!
A thick intoxicating blackness coated her body in brilliance; she could see the palace crumble before her and she revelled in its destruction. She wanted all of them to crumble beneath her inconsolable pain. They had killed Meekulu, her friend.
Sinai could taste powerful rage; she was bathed in a thunderous hate and, at last, she entered the black.
NEW ARRIVALS
Furuefu Forest
‘YOU LIKE HIM,’ Kora said, as she pulled out a handful of bright green ugu leaves, still wet from the recent downpour, and placed them in her small woven basket, ready to be chopped for tonight’s stew. The pale yellow afternoon sky hung above them, shrouded by a mist of thick clouds threatening even more rain. Naala and Kora stood in the middle of the dense viridescent forest, shaded by a flurry of vibrant green and amber leaves. They were surrounded by trees with drooping birds’ nests hanging like fat rain drops at the end of broad leaves. The birds whirled around the two girls, bringing with them the moist scent of sweet flowers and ripe fruit.
Naala did not reply. The comment irritated her slightly, and any curiosity she had was overpowered by her certainty that this was not a topic that she wanted to explore. She hoped that by not saying anything the conversation would carry off into the wind, but Kora had other plans.
‘I think he likes you too,’ Kora noted, as Naala inspected the viability of a browning leaf. ‘But given the current situation, I would advise both of you to keep away from each other. At least until things settle down; a baby—’
‘Okay, stop talking now,’ Naala snapped suddenly, as a smile spread across Kora’s face. She held her hands up in surrender.
‘Don’t be such a prude; this conversation is necessary.’
‘No, it is not. Quite frankly, it’s just irritating.’
‘Look, it doesn’t do well to bottle everything in, and after what I saw last night, we need to set boundaries before any unwanted surprises take place,’ Kora continued relentlessly.
WHEN NAALA and Madi had been led back to the group, they were met with warmth and excitement. Kora had burst into tears and jumped between Madi and Naala like a small excitable dog. Between Kora’s yelps, the other members of the group came to hug and pat them on the backs. Naala had felt a small twinge in her heart; the glow in their faces and the warmth of their hugs reminded her of her fallen village.
‘We thought you were dead!’
‘Lost in the woods.’
‘Did you run into the Eze’s army?’
‘Where have you been?’
Naala had taken a step back as questions were hurled at her. Madi, on the other hand, had moved closer towards the growing huddle with a chuckle erupting from deep in his throat.
Madi had said smoothly, ‘We simply went to farm for more fish at one of the distant lakes, hoping to find a more varied selection, but without our trusted navigator, Kora, we got lost on our way back. We spent these past weeks wandering around trying to find all of you. I guess it’s a good thing, though. Shows that our hiding tactics are top-notch.’ Madi had winked at Azu, who soaked up his lies and smiled with a glow of deep pride.
A few hours later, the novelty of Naala and Madi’s return had worn off, and it was as if they had never left. Soon after, the night hurried the sun away and the group retired to their hammocks. Naala was looking forward to her first night of solid sleep in weeks, but the three puppet masters had different plans. She found herself being woken in the middle of the night and escorted to
the same field in which she had been caught eavesdropping months ago.
‘Okay, let’s have the real story,’ Kora had said hurriedly.
Naala and Madi had looked at each other apprehensively before diving into the tale of their exploits over the past weeks. As the story drew towards their inexplicable escape, their voices had quietened until they were completely mute.
‘So how did you escape?’ Eni had asked; his piercing gaze had remained transfixed on Naala for the entirety of the retelling of their story. Naala had forgotten how hard it was to breathe when Eni looked at her that way; she felt exposed and raw. She had the urge to push his face away and scream at him to never look at her again, but beneath that lay a far greater desire to move close to him, close enough for her to become completely lost in the deep of his coal-black eyes.
Stop this foolishness! she had berated herself, before clearing her throat. She wasn’t ready to expose what had happened at the Udi mountain. She wasn’t ready to think too deeply about the rush of power she had felt, or the fact that she had felt it before; the day her village had been completely destroyed. The ero fungi scattered around the group had flickered white as fear crept over Naala.
‘There was … an earthquake,’ she had said finally. ‘It acted as a … distraction and we were able to flee.’
‘Another earthquake. What is happening to this world?’ Kora had muttered in despair.
‘How did you get back to us so quickly?’ Eni had probed.
Naala had opened her mouth and closed it as the words died on her lips.
‘I think we should carry on this conversation another day,’ Madi had quickly noted, as Eni and Kora looked to him in confusion. ‘I don’t know about Naala, but I’m exhausted from these travels, and everything has become a blur. I can’t even decipher how long we were away for, months, days—they’re all meshed together.’
‘But Madi, surely we need to discuss next steps,’ Kora had protested.
‘But we have—in essence, at least. Kora, you have the details of our stories. I’m assuming you will share it with them and we will await their instructions,’ Madi had continued.
Kora had opened her mouth to say something, but stopped herself and turned to Eni instead. He looked back at her and then let his eyes roam around the group, before they settled on Naala.
‘I think that sounds like a good idea, Kora?’ Eni had said, as he turned back to Kora. She nodded slowly in response.
‘Okay, we can all get some rest. I’ll send a message tomorrow. But listen, this is not the time to be complacent. Our first plan may have failed, but we will find a new one, and we will succeed,’ Kora had said determinedly.
As they had moved to leave the field, Naala felt a light brush against her hand. She had turned to find herself face-to-face with Eni, so close that she could feel the warmth from his body graze her skin. She had turned to watch Kora and Madi melt into the forest night before shifting her attention back towards Eni. What do you want? Naala had planned to say, but she was stopped by the look on Eni’s face.
‘I’m sorry about the arrow,’ he had said suddenly, as he brushed her hair aside with his fingers.
‘It’s fine. I did not—it did not hurt me at all,’ Naala had replied, her heart racing as her ears tingled with the electricity of his touch. The ero fungi had begun to bleed with a light lilac glow; the soft, beautiful light drifted through the dark night. Naala had looked at the ground; she had never seen the ero turn that colour before.
‘No, it’s not.’ he had said quietly. ‘I was reckless, and you could have been killed. I just—’ he paused, his eyes roaming her face as the fire beneath his pupils grew ‘—I really want you to know that I wasn’t trying to shoot you or hurt you. I was just shocked. I couldn’t believe that it was actually you, and then I let go of the string thoughtlessly.’
‘Okay,’ Naala had replied, unsure what to say. They stood silently in the brilliance of the moonlight. Naala looked down and was surprised to see that her hand was within his. She didn’t know whether she wanted to fling his hand away or draw him closer. A loud crack brought Naala back to earth. She jerked towards the sound, to find a wide-eyed Kora standing before them.
‘Sorry, I just wanted to make sure you two were okay,’ Kora had said hurriedly, as Naala snatched her hand away from Eni.
‘Yes, yes—just heading back now,’ Naala had replied, as she walked past Kora and back towards the hammock. Kora watched her go before turning back to Eni with a smile on her lips and a twinkle in her eye.
NOW NAALA STOOD in the bushes with one eye looking out for potential snakes lurking in the shades of green, and the other waiting for Kora’s response.
‘I guess you could always take the herbs that the village doctors give to reduce the chances of you falling pregnant but those things are never fool proof—the best thing is to stay away.’
‘I am not having this conversation with you,’ Naala replied coldly
‘It is important that you and Eni know where you stand—it just makes it easier for the whole group, trust me! One time Isioma and I … well, we—’ Kora started.
‘There is nothing going on between me and Eni. I don’t … I’m not … we’re not having this conversation.’
Kora lowered the spinach bundle she was collecting and turned to examine Naala.
‘Oh no,’ she whispered with bright knowing eyes.
‘What?’ Naala cried in frustration.
‘It’s worse than I thought. You can’t stay away, can you? Well, I guess a little baby in the group wouldn’t be so bad—we already have Azu to take care of. I don’t see a baby being any more work.’ She gave a hearty laugh; Naala couldn’t help joining in.
‘It’s nice to see you smile and laugh,’ Kora said, as they settled down. ‘Now you’re in a good mood, you won’t mind me saying,’ Kora noted, as she bit her lips guilty.
‘What?’
‘Your braids …’
‘What about them?’ Naala asked, as she tugged at one of her plaits.
‘They are sooo old! You’ve had them in since you joined the group! They’re nice, but they are worn out! Please let me redo them!’ Kora exclaimed, as Naala grimaced. She hated the process of braiding her hair. The ache in her neck, the countless hours spent doing it, the sore feeling around her buttocks for sitting for too long.
‘No. I’d rather cut it off like you have done,’ Naala replied, but Kora pulled a face.
‘No offence, but not everyone can pull this look off. Besides, I love playing with my friends’ hair! Pleeease,’ Kora cried, as she jumped up and down.
Naala was slightly taken aback by her comment; she hadn’t realised that Kora had considered her a friend.
‘Fine,’ Naala murmured, as Kora leapt in the air.
‘Yes! Yes! Yes,’ she screeched. Naala let out a sigh of frustration just as a drop of heavy rain smacked her head.
‘Whoops! Even more great news!’ Kora shouted. ‘If it rains now, it will be dry by the evening and we won’t be woken up by the torrential rain tonight!’
Naala picked up her basket of plants and balanced it on her head before she followed the crazed girl back to the settlement. They rushed through the rain. Soon enough, they reached the makeshift hut the survivors had made out of palm thatch propped up on tall thick branches to provide shelter from the rain.
Naala took the basket off from her head and settled it on the floor. Their entrance had attracted the attention of many eyes, including two pairs that Naala had not seen before. A short middle-aged woman and a tall slim man stood next to Azu and Eni. They turned to look at her with a gleam in their eyes that made Naala uneasy.
NO LIGHT
CITY OF NRI
SINAI WOKE with a start in a pitch-black room. As her heavy panting subsided, memories of what had happened flooded her mind and she let her head fall on her pillow, as a fresh wave of sorrow overcame her. Sinai did not know what day it was; didn’t even know if it was night or day. Some time ago she had dra
gged her wardrobe over to the window in her room, so that it now blocked all signs of the treacherous sun.
Since the old woman had died, light has ceased to be a source of peace. It now not only hurt her sore red eyes, but pierced her soul, taunting her with a time when a new day provided her with exciting hope. Sinai felt empty and cold.
They had found Sinai, knocked to the ground, amongst the rubble of the destroyed south-eastern wing of the palace. Some attributed the damage to a viscous storm. Others said that it was Meekulu’s soul crashing against the palace in a last attack. Some whispered that it was a punishment from the lost gods, for taking away a life as innocent as Meekulu’s. People fretted silently over the deep sorrow that had swept through the city; the nnunu women had ceased their singing; the palace food had lost its prior appeal, and heavy dark clouds remained perpetually in the sky.
Sinai thought nothing. She did nothing. She ate nothing. She stayed in her akwa nest all day and all night, clutching at her fur and crashing her fists against her head when the memory of her loss became too much to bear.
It is all your fault, you might as well have lit the match yourself, her thoughts poked out of her mind like bloody jagged knives cutting at whim and breaking her down into nothing.
Sinai had never known her family; she had never had friends. Meekulu was the first person who had felt familiar to her. The only person whom she trusted. Just like poison, I crept into her life and left the old woman for dead. Sinai tugged at her hair as she willed her mind to stay silent.
Time passed and the door creaked open. A hidden figure stood at the foot of Sinai’s akwa nest, watching her closely before speaking.
‘You have to get it together,’ Ina hissed, her voice strained with anger and sorrow. ‘You are not the only one in pain; you are not the only one who loved her. If you do not pick yourself up and get on with it, you will be next, Sinai.’
