by Ayana Gray
My best friend is livid.
“Tao.” I fight to keep the annoyance from my voice. This conversation hasn’t gone the way I imagined it would, but I’m doing my best to salvage what’s left of it. “Come on,” I say gently. “It’s really not as big a deal as you’re making it—”
“Not a big deal?” Tao practically throws the ill-fortuned carrots into the pot, ignoring the hot water that splashes when he does. He regards me with something that borders on disgust. “It was a violation, a complete betrayal of trust.”
I barely resist rolling my eyes. He’s making it sound like I stabbed him in the back or pushed him off a cliff. “I really didn’t think you’d care this much,” I say placatingly. “If I had, I’d—”
“The sky garden has always been our place.” There’s still a bite in Tao’s voice, but beneath it, he sounds injured. “It was our secret, something that belonged to no one else. You didn’t have to show it to him. We’ve been going up there since the day we first set foot in this temple.”
“Exactly,” I say with exasperation. “Since we were little kids. It was silly.”
“Not to me,” Tao murmurs.
I pretend I don’t hear him. “Don’t you think it’s time for us to change things a bit, to be more . . . adult?”
“Adult.” Tao’s eyes narrow as he repeats me. “Where’d you get that one from, your new boyfriend?”
My face goes hot, and it has nothing to do with the stifling kitchen. “Dakari isn’t my boyfriend.”
“He might as well be,” says Tao, scowling. “The way he’s always around you, always all over you like a jungle leech.”
I look away, grateful my dark skin hides my blush. It’s true Dakari and I have been spending more time together recently, but . . .
“We’re just friends,” I say defensively. “He’s still new to Lkossa, still getting to know people.”
“Tuh.” Tao jumps down from his stool and grabs several spices from a nearby cupboard. “I think he’s gotten to know plenty of girls.”
I’m offended on Dakari’s behalf. “What’s your problem with him?” I ask, my voice angrier than I mean it to be. “Dakari is perfectly—”
“That’s exactly it!” Tao throws up his hands. “He’s perfect. Perfect face, perfect demeanor, perfect everything. I don’t trust it.”
“You don’t trust anything that doesn’t come from a book,” I mutter.
“I trust myself not to be fooled by a deep voice and some shallow compliments,” Tao says scathingly. “I used to think you were smart enough not to be either.”
The insult stings like a slap to the face; Tao has never spoken to me that way.
“Tao,” I say quietly. “I really care about him.”
It’s hard to read the expression on my friend’s face as he stops short. The pain there doesn’t make sense to me. Just as quickly, it’s gone. “Then there’s nothing left to say,” he murmurs, picking up the pot. “I’ll see you around, Adiah.”
He doesn’t say another word as he leaves me in the kitchens, alone.
CHAPTER 24
Silver Bells
Ekon didn’t sleep well their last night at Badwa’s camp.
It wasn’t for lack of trying or want; above him the sky was stunning, a smattering of silver-white stars more vivid than he’d ever seen in Lkossa. He crossed his arms behind his head and stared up at it. A few feet away, snuggled into her bedroll, Koffi slept, and the sounds of the jungle formed a melody he almost liked. Tomorrow, bright and early, they would leave and start their new search for Adiah. They’d been in this jungle for seven days and eight nights; finally, they were going to find the thing they’d entered it for. They were going to find Adiah, help her get rid of the splendor poisoning her body, and possibly stop the killing that had plagued Lkossa for almost a century. Those were good things, things that should have made him happy. But something else was on his mind.
The hunting party.
By no means was it the first time he’d reflected on it; thoughts of the Sons of the Six had invaded his mind intermittently since he and Koffi had set foot in the jungle. He had been actively avoiding those thoughts recently, but they’d finally caught up with him.
Tomorrow marked eight days. Eight, a bad number.
He thought about his conversation with Fahim in the temple, the last time he’d seen his friend.
Do you know when you’re going?
Not yet. But I think it’ll be soon, probably in the next few days.
Even if he was being generous, the few had likely meant three or four days at most. By now, the Sons of the Six were likely in the jungle too, trying to find what they thought was the Shetani and kill it. He remembered Kamau’s words next, the warning his brother had given him.
You won’t just be contending with what’s already in there. The Sons of the Six will be hunting too, the Yabahari way.
Ekon could already see them in his mind. Father Olufemi would have picked the strongest, fastest, and keenest warriors for such a mission, and they’d prove their worth once in the jungle. What would happen if they found him here? What would happen if they found Koffi here? He cringed at that thought.
I don’t know what I’d do if this were any more complicated.
Koffi had said those words back at the Kughushi District while they’d been looking at the maps. And in that memory, he recalled the moment he’d decided not tell her the whole truth, the moment he’d decided to lie. He hadn’t planned to keep the information about the hunting party from her forever, just until they were far enough into the Greater Jungle to make it a moot point. Now guilt twisted his insides.
You have to tell Koffi, said a voice in his head. You have to tell her the truth.
And admit that you’ve been lying to her from the start? another argued right back. No. Come up with some kind of a strategy first. Figure out the optimal time, then tell her. Ekon liked that plan better. His entire life had been the summation of carefully tailored strategies, ideas, and objectives that could be planned, perfected, and executed. This was the kind of problem that needed the best strategy. He found comfort in that as his eyelids grew heavy.
I’ll tell her the truth, he promised the stars overhead. I’ll tell her—when the time is right.
* * *
Dawn came all too soon.
They packed their few possessions without speaking, and for that Ekon was grateful. Anxiety still churned in his stomach every time he looked at Koffi, every time he remembered his thoughts from the night before, but that didn’t change his resolve. Badwa had kept true to her word; she and the yumboes were gone by the time they rose. He’d expected it, but that didn’t make their absence feel any better. Once again, the jungle felt massive, dense, and even sentient. Something pulled within him when he saw their bags had been left fully stocked with rations and their water gourds full. He and Koffi gave the now-abandoned campground a final once-over, then set off into the jungle yet again.
“So, this trail will take us north?” Koffi was marching ahead, as usual.
“That’s what Badwa said.” Ekon nodded at her back even though she couldn’t see it. “If we stay on it, we should find Adiah within the next day.”
“Great.”
* * *
* * *
They kept on, largely in silence, for the next few hours. For Ekon, it was the perfect time to think through his strategy. He could tell Koffi the truth about the hunting party if they found Adiah, when they found her, after they found her . . .
“Ekon?”
He jolted. Koffi was staring at him, appraising. “Sorry, what?”
Koffi’s expression didn’t change. “I was just asking if you wanted to stop for a minute to eat and maybe look at the map to check our progress? It’s nearly midday.”
“Oh.” He’d been so lost in his own thoughts, he’d barely thought about f
ood. “Yeah, that’s fine by me.”
They found a spot on the jungle floor and spread out their assortment of fruits from the yumboes. The trees in this area were thinner and richer in color, their roots carpeted with the delicate pink petals of flowers that looked to have finished their bloom a day or so before. Ekon’s stomach growled audibly as he bit into one of his apples. He’d been hungrier than he thought.
“So . . . ,” Ekon said between bites. “You’ve been quiet today.”
Koffi took longer than strictly necessary to peel her orange. She chewed and swallowed slowly before answering. “So have you.”
“Anything on your mind?”
At first, Koffi clamped her mouth firmly shut, as though she planned on saying nothing at all. Then words seemed to tumble from her unbidden.
“We came into this jungle looking for a monster,” she said, poking holes into the dirt. “Now we’re trying to find a one-hundred-year-old daraja so we can save her life and our home from the god of death.” She looked up from the dirt. “That’s . . . sort of weird, isn’t it?”
Ekon laughed in spite of himself. “Yeah, it’s a little weird.”
Koffi’s expression turned hesitant but intent. “Do you really think we can do this?”
Ekon swallowed. There was more than one question in that look, and he hoped he’d get the answer right. “Yeah, I do.”
Her eyes brightened. “Thanks for saying it out loud. I guess I just needed to hear it.”
There was a gentleness in her voice, a vulnerability Ekon had never heard before. Something about it made his chest tight. She trusts you, he realized. That understanding also made guilt coil in his stomach. She was being honest with him, but he was not being honest with her.
Tell her. Tell her the truth.
“I’m scared.” Koffi spoke so softly Ekon barely heard her. “I haven’t said it aloud, but . . . I’m scared.”
Ekon was taken aback. “Really?”
“That surprises you?”
“Sure,” he said with a shrug. “You’re probably the most fearless person I know.”
She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “My mama says I lead with my heart, but . . . that I have to learn how to think with my head. I’m still working on it.”
Ekon didn’t miss a beat. “Why can’t you do both?”
At this, Koffi’s pretend smile fell. “Both?”
“Sure.” He shrugged. “I mean, if leading with your heart and thinking with your head are both a part of who you are, why not use both?”
The question was simple, but Koffi stared at him as though he’d spoken a foreign language. He had trouble reading the expression on her face. Was it anger, confusion, or . . . something else? She opened her mouth to answer, and then her head snapped to the right.
“What?” Ekon straightened. “What’s wrong?”
“Shh.” Koffi held a finger to her lips. “Do you hear that?”
Ekon’s frown matched hers. Badwa had said Adiah was a day’s walk north of her camp, but they’d only been walking for a few hours. His ears pricked as he looked around, nervous. Had some new unfriendly inhabitant of this jungle come to pay them a visit, or was it something worse, like the hunting party? The air around them was filled with its usual low buzz, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary at first. Then he heard what Koffi must have.
A sweet, metallic ringing.
“What is that?” Ekon asked in a whisper. Koffi didn’t answer. Already, she was on her feet, fists clenched. Ekon rose more slowly and looked around again before zeroing in. The sound was coming from their right, and it wasn’t far away. Instinctively, he reached for his hanjari.
“It’s . . . strange,” said Koffi. “It sounds like—”
“Bells.” And as soon as Ekon said the word, he knew it was true. “Those are bells.”
“Why would there be bells in the middle of a jungle?” Koffi had already started toward the sound. Ekon followed.
“I don’t know,” he answered, staying on her heels. “But honestly . . . I’m not optimistic.”
“Have you read about anything like that in the journal?”
Ekon paused. Some distant memory from the first night he’d had the journal was curled up at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t recall it. “No,” he said. “Nothing I remember.”
“Then we need to be cautious.” She looked over her shoulder, visibly conflicted, before she spoke again. “And . . . you should probably be in front.”
“Me?”
“You’ve got the weapon,” said Koffi. “And I still don’t know how reliable the splendor is when I channel it.”
Ekon nodded. It felt strange to take the lead for the first time since they’d entered the jungle, but he did it nonetheless. With each step, the years of training took over. He changed his gait so that he walked on the balls of his feet, muscles tensed and dagger at the ready. The tinkling sound was getting louder, more prominent. Definitely bells, he concluded, but for what? A large oak tree stood up ahead. Whatever was making that sound seemed to be behind it. His gripped his dagger tighter, then signaled for Koffi to take the other side of the tree. As soon as Koffi moved forward, he rounded his side of the trunk, dagger raised—but someone screamed, stopping him short. It took him a moment to understand what he was seeing.
“What the—?”
A little girl was sitting near the tree’s roots, knees hugged to her chest while she sniffled. Her tunic was overlarge, torn at the hem, and her eyes were bloodshot. Bramble and bits of leaf were tangled in her hair, and . . . two tiny silver bells looped on ribbon were tied around each ankle.
“Please,” she said in a wispy voice, looking between them. Her hands flew to cover her face. “Please don’t hurt me.”
Ekon let the hand he was holding the dagger with fall to his side. Whatever he’d been expecting, it hadn’t been this. For several seconds, he could do nothing but stare. Seeing a perfectly normal child here in the middle of the Greater Jungle was such an odd contrast that he wasn’t even sure what to say. Koffi gave him an exasperated look before crouching down to meet the little girl’s eyes.
“It’s all right,” she said gently. “We aren’t going to hurt you.”
The girl peeked between her fingers. “You’re not?”
“No.”
“Okay.” The girl wrapped her arms around her knees, and her bells jingled again. “Then, who are you?”
“Our names are Koffi and Ekon.” Koffi kept her voice at a murmur and spoke slowly. “What’s your name?”
“Hila,” the little girl answered. She was still looking between the two of them, wary. “Why are you here?” She directed the question at Ekon.
“Uh, well, we’re—”
“Looking for butterflies.” Koffi’s eyes cut to Ekon in a very deliberate way. “Isn’t that right, Ekon?”
“I—” Ekon clamped his mouth shut. “Yes,” he muttered. “Butterflies.”
“Oh, I like butterflies! They’re so pretty.” Hila seemed to perk up at that. Her eyes widened a bit as she stared at Koffi. “You’re very pretty.”
“Oh.” A smile touched Koffi’s face. “Thank you.”
Hila turned to Ekon. “Do you think Koffi is very pretty?”
Ekon made a sound like a cross between a cough and a hiccup. “I—”
“We have a camp nearby.” Koffi was careful not to meet Ekon’s eyes. “Are you hungry?”
“Mhm.” Hila nodded enthusiastically while Ekon found his words again. Gently, Koffi lifted Hila to her feet and walked with her back to the spot where they’d left their bags. The bells rang merrily as she took the last few steps at a run and plopped down on the ground. She helped herself to one of the oranges in their food pile and nibbled at it. Koffi settled beside her; then Ekon followed suit.
“So, Hila,” said Koffi. “Where are you
from? And how did you end up here in the jungle by yourself?”
Hila popped another piece of orange into her mouth before answering. “I’m from one of the border villages,” she murmured. “I don’t come in the jungle often, but . . . well, I was trying to find kola nuts.”
“Kola nuts?” Koffi repeated. “Those are common. You didn’t have to go into the Greater Jungle to find them.”
“Not the large ones,” said Hila immediately, knowingly. “I’ve found some here that were bigger than my fist, and Baba can sell those for more at market.” Her shoulders hunched. “It’s just him and me. My mama died when I was small.”
Ekon was caught off guard by the pang of pity he felt for the girl.
“Baba sent me into the jungle a few days ago,” Hila went on. “But . . . something came after me.”
Ekon straightened. “What was it?”
“Something scary,” said Hila. “I don’t know what it was, but it looked strange. It had a slithery body like a snake, and a head like an—”
“Elephant.” Ekon looked to Koffi. “That sounds like the grootslang we saw.”
“Or one of its friends,” said Koffi, pursing her lips.
“I ran away from it,” Hila murmured. “But then I got lost. Baba tied these bells around my ankles so he could find me if that ever happened, but . . .” She looked down at them. “I don’t think they work anymore.”
Ekon swallowed. Try as he might, it was impossible not to draw the obvious comparison. He’d once been a child lost in this jungle; she was too. She was alone and scared; he knew what that had felt like. The little girl’s eyes locked on his, and he came to a decision.
“We’ll get you back to your family,” he said. “Don’t worry.”
Koffi gave him a strange look before clearing her throat. “Actually, Hila,” she said in a voice slightly too high, “Ekon and I are just going to step over here for a moment. Please enjoy your food. We’ll be right back.” She nodded curtly to a spot several feet away and gestured for Ekon to come with her. Once they were standing out of Hila’s earshot with their backs turned, she scowled. “What are you doing?”
