by Ayana Gray
Koffi felt an undeniable surge of pride. “Could I win a fight with that move?”
“With some practice, sure.” Ekon paused, thoughtful. “You know, another name for that move is actually called the pie, because you move in a circle like a—”
“Are you joking?”
He kept his face stoic. “I never joke about pie.”
They stared at each other a moment, neither one of them moving, before they both burst out laughing. It felt strangely good, and Koffi realized it was the first time in a long time that she’d really laughed.
* * *
Eventually, they continued on, tracking the odd footprints into the noon hour. Koffi followed the path as it wound, but it was becoming increasingly harder, and not just because of the heat. The back of her neck ached from keeping her head bent, and occasionally her eyes blurred between the dirt and leaves she had to search through to keep focused. It was clear from the way the footprints were imprinted in the dirt that they were fresh, but they were also . . . strange. She’d never seen tracks like them before. Sometimes, they were normal, a pair of feet walking in a single direction; other times, one foot turned the wrong way, or seemed to walk over the same piece of earth more than once. She couldn’t make sense of it, and she didn’t like it.
“I see why the Shetani would want to live here,” she said aloud. “Everything about this place creeps me out, even in the daytime.”
“Yeah.” Beside her, Ekon was staring up at the canopy of trees, now allowing filtered light to shine through. “Me too.” His eyes shot to Koffi, as though thinking of something. “Speaking of the Shetani, I’ve actually been meaning to ask you something.”
“What?”
“You said before that you didn’t know how you made the Shetani leave when you told it to,” he said. “But I was wondering if you had any . . . hypotheses.”
“Hippo what?”
Ekon sighed. “I was wondering if you had any guesses.”
“Oh.” Koffi shrugged. “The truth is, I really don’t know exactly how I did it. Something about it just felt like the right thing to say.” She considered a moment before continuing. “A little while ago, I met an old woman while I was in Lkossa’s markets. She told me that there had once been magic in Lkossa years ago. I don’t exactly know how I came by it, but I think I have that same magic.”
Ekon’s brows drew together, as though he were trying to figure out a particularly difficult math equation. It was almost endearing. “I’ve never read about that in any books,” he said after a moment. His frown deepened.
“Not everything is written in books.” She gestured at the sky. “I mean, how much do we know about what actually caused the Rupture?”
Ekon relaxed slightly. “Well, actually, there’s been a respectable amount of academic study done on it. Most scholars agree that while it’s visible from anywhere on the continent, it’s most prominent in the Zamani Region. Other posit that it’s the result of a barometric—”
“I’m not talking about what scholars write in books.” Koffi interrupted him with a wave of her hand as they continued on. Her eyes cast over the streaks of black in the sky. They seemed less prominent here, but she couldn’t tell if that was because of the changing season or the jungle canopy. “I’m talking about what really happened to cause it. Haven’t you ever wondered?”
“Not really.” Ekon shrugged. “I mean, the sky’s always been that way. It’s not like we can change—” Suddenly he stopped short, his eyes fixing on something in the trees and growing wide. “Koffi, look.”
Koffi followed his gaze, then froze. How she’d missed the hundreds of silver-white strands hanging from overhead like silk, she wasn’t sure, but she certainly saw them now. They came together and fell apart, connecting and disconnecting to form an infinite number of shapes. In the sparse sunlight filtering through the treetops, they glistened eerily.
Ekon shivered. “Is that a . . . ?”
“Yeah.” There was no hiding it. Real terror gripped Koffi’s voice as she stared upward too, her mouth barely moving. “It’s a . . . web.”
CHAPTER 17
Tricks and Truths
Ekon had known what he was seeing from the moment he’d looked up, but somehow hearing it confirmed aloud made it worse.
Never in his life had he seen a spiderweb so big, and he didn’t want to know what sort of creature—or creatures—had made it.
“I think we should turn around.”
“For once, we are in complete agreement,” said Koffi. She started walking backward, as though afraid to turn away from the eerie web. Ekon felt the same way. The air around them seemed to be cooling, thinning. It wasn’t right for it to be this temperature, not when it had just been sweltering only minutes ago. Ekon had turned to run when a voice sounded from above.
“Children shouldn’t wander in the jungle.”
Koffi yelped, and instinctively, Ekon tensed, bracing himself for an attack. His stomach swooped as he noticed one strand of the giant web vibrate like a plucked string, and then something large skittered down a tree to his immediate right. A scream rose in his throat.
The creature eyeing them had the face and torso of an old, bare-chested man, complete with thinning gray hair and wrinkles etched deep into his features. Two blank white eyes stared back at them like cold milk, unblinking and unmoving. But that wasn’t what frightened Ekon; it was what followed after the creature’s torso. Where two human legs should have been, instead there were eight long, stilt-like legs that weren’t human at all. Each one was bent at the knee and ended in a bare brown human foot. Ekon fought a shiver. The odd tracks suddenly made sense, and he understood why they’d gone in strange directions. The creature leered, as though it could hear his thoughts.
“Humans.” Its whisper was like a snake slithering over dead leaves. “It has been many years since Anatsou has seen humans, and now they come to see him. Anatsou is delighted.”
Ekon stepped back. “What are you?”
The creature threw his head back in a laugh then, letting his airy cackles echo off the trees around them. Ekon shuddered when he saw his yellowed teeth were pointed, like fangs. “Anatsou is a maker of mischief and magic, a trader of tricks and truths. Humans will never know what Anatsou is.”
“We’re sorry to disturb you.” Koffi’s voice shook with every word. “We aren’t looking for any trouble. We’ll leave—”
“Ah, but they are looking for something.” Anatsou stopped laughing as his head turned to Koffi at an unnatural angle. “The human girl is looking for her bag of treasures. Anatsou has two bags of treasure that he found this morning, all by himself.”
Ekon shivered. This creature, this thing, had come while they were unconscious. Knowing that disturbed him, and he felt . . . violated.
“Those are our bags,” Koffi said carefully. “They belong to—”
“Anatsou knows who the treasure bags belong to,” the creature said. “Anatsou wanted to play a little game. He wanted to know if the humans would follow his funny trail to come find their lost treasures. Did the humans like Anatsou’s game?”
Ekon frowned. He wanted to tell this creepy thing exactly what he thought of its “game,” but before he could, Koffi stepped forward.
“Yes.” She said the word with a notable touch of respect. “It was a very, very clever game. We found it quite difficult. It took us hours to find you.”
As though this was just what Anatsou had hoped to hear, his face split into a wicked grin. “Ah, excellent. Anatsou finds the humans so entertaining, even if he also finds them simple.”
“Since we won your . . . uh, game, do you think we could have our things back?” Ekon was surprised to see Koffi’s expression turn almost scolding as she added, “That’s only fair.”
“Fair,” Anatsou repeated. “Anatsou prefers his tricks, but . . . but he supposes the human girl’s lo
gic is sound. She has won Anatsou’s game, and so . . .” Without warning, he skittered back up the giant web and tugged one of its strings. A large ball of white that reminded Ekon of yarn came rolling across it and dropped to the ground. Anatsou tapped it with a foot, and at once their bags fell out of it and into the dirt. Instinctively, Ekon reached for his own, but to his alarm Anatsou moved to block his path. His whitish eyes were gleaming.
“There is something else the humans want.” Anatsou looked between Ekon and Koffi, addressing them. “Something else they are searching for.”
“What do you mean?” Ekon asked.
Anatsou’s toothy smile widened. “Humans come into Anatsou’s jungle looking for his friend: the Shetani.”
Koffi actually stepped forward, wide-eyed. “You know where it is?”
Anatsou bowed his head. “Anatsou will show the humans the meadow where it lives, if they would like. It is just up ahead.”
Something struck hard in Ekon’s chest, coursing through him like an invisible current of energy as the words sank in. This creature could take them to the Shetani. They could capture it and leave the jungle, well before Father Olufemi’s hunting party came. He started forward, but a hand caught his arm, stopping him.
“Ekon.”
He turned. Koffi was at his side, much closer than she’d been before. Her expression held uncharacteristic caution. “I don’t think we should go.”
As she said the words, a part of him knew she was right, that this was dangerous. Yet something else pulled, a tug low in his stomach as he looked over Anatsou’s shoulder and down the crooked path to which he was gesturing. The Shetani could be waiting at the end of the path. It could be over as quickly as that. He looked back at Koffi, trying to sound reassuring.
“I think we should at least check,” he said so only she could hear. “And if we don’t see the Shetani, we can turn back.”
Koffi shook her head. “I don’t like it.”
“You didn’t like my idea to stop and reevaluate our plan last night either,” said Ekon. It was a low blow, and he knew it. “So can we try my way now?”
Koffi’s eyes flashed. She seemed to be weighing the options, considering. After a moment, she bit into her cheek and nodded. “If we don’t see the Shetani immediately, we leave.”
Ekon didn’t wait for her to say anything else before turning back to face Anatsou. “Show us.”
Anatsou skittered forward and gestured for them to follow. Koffi took steadied herself, then fell into step beside Ekon as they grabbed their sacks and headed down the path beneath the stretching web. With every step, the air seemed to chill. Ekon drummed his fingers against his side. He heard Koffi’s tentative steps beside him, felt the unease lapping at him, but he still couldn’t ignore that tug, the irresistible pull leading him on. The Shetani was close, he was sure of it. He’d catch it, kill it, and then this would all be over.
They reached a set of trees grown close together like friends sharing a secret. Anatsou stopped.
“The meadow is beyond those trees.” Anatsou bowed his head again. “Find what you are searching for there.”
“Thanks.” Ekon needed no further prompting as he and Koffi stepped around Anatsou and between the trees. Instinctively, he gripped the hilt of his hanjari, and a long beat passed before he braced himself to step through the trees. He stopped short.
The meadow he’d entered was too vivid. Vines covered most of the tree trunks, but their colors were oversaturated, almost lurid in their brightness. Slowly, something familiar tickled in the back of his mind. He realized it—he’d been here before.
“No! NO!”
A shock ran through Ekon’s body as he turned in the direction of the noise, and his heart stopped. Koffi had dropped to the ground, her body curling into a ball as she writhed. Her eyes were screwed shut in horrible pain, and her hands were pressed hard against her ears.
“No!” she screamed. “Run! Mama, Jabir, run!”
Ekon’s heart lurched. He stared up at the black-trunked trees around them, and the hairs on his arms stood on end. There weren’t trees staring back at him anymore.
There were faces.
He watched the black bark of the tree nearest him twist, reshaping itself into something else: the face of a woman. Her mouth hung slack, viscous sap the color of molten gold glistening on her lips. The voice that rose from within, however, did not belong to her.
Please.
Ekon bit down on his tongue hard as his Baba’s voice filled the meadow, echoing from every direction. Another tree to his left contorted its shape, this time into the face of a child. Hollowed cavities took the place where its eyes should have been.
Ekon, Baba’s voice moaned. Please.
Around him, more of the trees changed. Koffi was still at his side, still crying, but he couldn’t move. A stench had filled the air, like old moss and rotted oak; it was the smell of something dying.
My son, please . . .
“No!” Ekon closed his eyes and covered his ears, desperate to block out the words. “It isn’t real! You’re not real!”
He let his fingers tap against his head as he covered his ears, trying to find a count.
One-two-three. One-two-three. One-two-three.
He’s not real, Ekon reminded himself as the numbers filled his mind. It’s all in your head, it’s not real. He’s not real.
He opened his eyes again, but the trees with faces were still there, still glaring. He blinked again, but they remained fixed, no longer the dregs of his imagination.
No.
What he was seeing now wasn’t in his head at all. To his horror, he found that, in fact, the trees were moving, slow and menacing as they began to sway in place. He watched as some unfurled their branches while others curled theirs into huge wooden knots—fists.
One-two-three. Five-eight-ten. Six-two-one . . .
His numbers abandoned him.
“You’re not real!” Ekon sank to the ground, repeating the words as though saying them aloud could make them true. He felt Koffi’s body shaking beside his own, racked by sobs, but he couldn’t comfort her. He couldn’t even comfort himself. The world was beginning to grow dark again. “You’re not real,” he repeated softly. “None of you are, you can’t—”
“Ekon.”
Ekon’s eyes flew open. He recognized one of the faces in the trees, a first. It was sculpted around the bark of the trunk, but unmistakable. He took in the face of a man with high cheekbones like his, a full beard, round eyes that—had they not been empty—would have reminded him of Kamau’s. The name escaped his lips before he could stop himself.
“Baba.”
The face in the tree blinked. “Hello, Ekon.”
Seconds passed, seconds when Ekon knew his heart should have been beating in his chest. But he couldn’t make it restart again, his body wouldn’t obey. His baba had been dead for ten years; now he was staring at him.
“How are you here?”
Baba’s lips, formed from the tree trunk’s bark, were pressed tight, his ligneous face full of a quiet sadness. “Why have you returned to the jungle?”
Any number of answers filled Ekon’s mind. He’d come here to gain respect, approval—forgiveness. “I’m here to kill the beast that took your life, Baba,” he said aloud. “Once I do, I’ll be given my manhood, and my honor.”
The emotion in Baba’s face was inscrutable, but his words were soft. “No one can give you manhood or honor, Ekon. You must earn those for yourself.”
“But how?” Ekon heard the crack in his own voice, but he couldn’t stop it. “How else do I earn it, Baba?”
Baba’s mouth opened, as though he meant to say something, but then he stopped. His expression turned panicked. “You must leave this place,” he said in an entirely different voice. “Leave, and take the girl with you. Go!”
Ekon started. He looked between his father and Koffi, who was still lying on the ground. “Baba,” he asked, “what’s going—?”
Fear lanced through him as his father’s face began to transfigure. He looked as though he were trying to speak but couldn’t. He sounded as though he was gagging, choking.
“Baba!” Ekon jumped to his feet. “No—”
It happened without warning.
A horde of black spiders erupted from the tree, covering the place where Baba’s face had been. Ekon screamed. He knew he should have grabbed Koffi, should have run, but his feet were rooted to the ground. He couldn’t move. The spiders seemed to multiply like magic, growing and pulsating into an intangible mass. He stepped back, and the movement caught the spiders’ attention; at once, he felt an infinite number of tiny black eyes turn his way.
No.
He turned to retreat but wasn’t fast enough. Like a terrible sea, the spiders came for him in a rush, pinching and biting his legs and feet. He ran, trying to smack them off with each step, but it was no use. The horde surrounded him on all sides, millions of creatures. They covered the trees, filled the webs above him, and rained down on his shoulders and neck. A tree root caught at his ankle, and the world came crashing toward him as he fell. The spiders seized their chance. They crept and scuttled all across his body, between his fingers, into his ears; they covered every inch of him. Fangs pierced his flesh over and over, relentless bites in his skin. Slowly, his vision grew cloudy and black around the edges as a numbness grew.
“Ekon!”
He wondered if that was Baba screaming his name or someone else. He was dying—of that, he was certain—but he wondered how long it would take for his body to really sever from this world. He would not be cremated, so his soul would not be freed. Perhaps he would spend the rest of eternity here, among the spiders.
“Ekon!”
The voice that cried his name was much closer and louder now, not a delusion. Something smacked across his legs, his back, his arms, over and over. It took him a moment to understand. Someone was hitting him, trying to get the spiders off his body. He blinked hard, forcing himself to look up.
