by Ayana Gray
“Indeed,” said Father Olufemi. In a matter of strides, he closed the gap between them. “I expected you to be in the worship hall celebrating the Shetani’s capture, with your new brothers.”
Brothers. The word repulsed him, but Ekon forced a small smile of his own. “I was, Father,” he said cordially. “But I stepped away.” He gestured to the worship hall, and then to the statues of the Six standing in silent observance. “I wanted to pay my respects, to praise the gods for this victory.”
“I see.” Father Olufemi nodded in approval. “That is quite . . . mature. Kamau has taught you well. I see the resemblances between the two of you more clearly than ever.”
It took every bit of Ekon’s restraint not to cringe at the mention of Kamau. He didn’t want to see the images filling his head, but it was impossible not to recall his brother’s slackened face, not to hear Father Olufemi’s mirthless laugh. The smile faltered for a moment, just slightly. Ekon fixed it.
“Thank you, Father.”
Father Olufemi looked over his shoulder a moment, as though deep in thought, before he spoke again. “I would like you to visit my study tomorrow,” he said. “Now that you are a Son of the Six, there are confidential matters regarding the city’s . . . security that you should be briefed on.”
Ekon fought to keep his voice even as he bowed. “Yes, Father. Good night.”
“Good night.”
Ekon’s muscles had started to relax as Father Olufemi began to turn, but without warning, he faced Ekon again. This time, he closed the gap between them, placing a wrinkled hand on Ekon’s shoulder. At once the hasira leaf’s saccharine scent filled the space between them. Ekon held his breath.
“I look forward to having you join our efforts,” said Father Olufemi. “What we do is a duty, a righteous work.” He walked away without another word, as slow and deliberate as he’d been before. Ekon watched him go, uneasy. Father Olufemi had seen him here, which meant they had even less time than before. He stared out the window and at the moon again. He and Koffi had agree to meet in thirty minutes exactly; more than half of that time was gone, and he was still no closer to finding Brother Ugo. He closed his eyes and tried to think of every detail, every place he’d ever been with his mentor. They’d gone on walks through the city, spent hours in the study rooms, they’d—
Then the realization hit him hard, stopping him in his tracks. Sweat snaked down his forehead as it finally clicked in his mind, and both panic and joy erupted within him as he turned and faced down one of the hallways.
He knew where Brother Ugo was.
CHAPTER 31
Fireflies
The smell of hay thickened in the air as Koffi neared the temple’s stable.
Around her, she listened to the sounds of its inhabitants: the soft snores of livestock. Those sounds and scents both unnerved and comforted her—they reminded her of the Night Zoo.
She crept along the stalls one by one, peeking inside each and trying to discern their residents in the darkness. Ekon had said that Adiah might be down here, but he wasn’t certain; she tried not to focus on the word might. She had half an hour to find the transformed daraja and then meet Ekon so that they could leave. It felt like a lot of time. She knew it wasn’t.
Every shadow inside the stable seemed to grow longer as the seconds ticked by, moonlight trickling through gaps between the roof’s wooden planks. She took a deep breath in and caught a new scent, ozone, the smell that always preceded rain. Monsoon season was coming, there was no doubt about that anymore; she hoped she, Ekon, and Adiah would be long gone by then.
A new wave of anxiety began building in her fingers; she tempered it by making a tight fist.
“Calm your mind,” she whispered to herself as she rounded a corner of the stable. Calm, she needed to stay calm. She recognized this part of the stable—she’d once stood here with Jabir, right before they parted ways. She crouched down in the shadows, letting her fingers brush along the dirt floor. It was a different sensation; whereas the jungle’s dirt had been warm and inviting, the stable’s was cooler and distinctly less animate. Still, she was relieved to feel the familiar pulse of the splendor—not as powerful as before, but present. She coaxed it in a way she hoped was gentle. I need to find Adiah, she thought. Help me find her. Help me save her.
There was a moment’s uncertain pause before the energy responded with a tug, somewhere near her navel. Automatically, she rose as tiny, familiar flickers of golden light formed near her fingertips, then ascended to bob almost playfully through the air before her. It took her a moment to recognize what they reminded her of, fireflies.
Help me, she urged. Help me find her.
The bobbing lights moved to form a chain. Koffi watched in wonder as they populated, illuminating a path down the hall to her right and around a corner. Perfect. From here, all she had to do was follow the lights, and—
“What the—?”
No. Koffi swore. She recognized the boy who had rounded the corner. He was the one she and Jabir had first encountered when they’d approached the stable; now he was staring at her with a mix of awe and horror. Koffi shrank back into a stall a few feet away as he seemed to pick the latter emotion to hold on to.
“Help!” he called over his shoulder. “Someone help!”
More footsteps sounded, and Koffi’s heart sank. She started to reach for the splendor, to call it back, then froze. Would the flecks of light disappear, or would they float back to her and reveal her hiding spot? She wasn’t willing to take that chance. Two more boys joined the first in the hallway. For a moment, they stared at Koffi’s lights with the same sort of confused wonder before one of them spoke.
“What are those?” the second boy asked.
“Something bad,” the first answered. “Looks like magic to me.”
“The daraja’s still in the prison, isn’t she?”
“She’s supposed to be, but—” One of the boys stepped forward and prodded the light with a finger. Koffi flinched in pain. “She might be trying to communicate with the Shetani and get it to free her. The Kuhani needs to be told immediately.”
No. The lights sputtered. New anxiety rolled over Koffi as she thought about the Kuhani. If he went to check on her in the prison and found she wasn’t there, her and Ekon’s plan was ruined before it began.
“He was in his study, last I checked,” said the boy, nodding to one of the others. “Go get him. We’ll seal the exits, just in case.”
He was closing the gap between himself and Koffi with each step. Koffi crept farther into the stall, withdrawing Ekon’s hanjari from the sheath on her hip. She held it to her chest, remembering his words.
Do anything you have to do.
“Hey!” The boy’s eyes locked on her. He opened his mouth, about to yell—
She lunged.
The movement came to her like an instinct. One of her arms extended and she turned on her heel, making a perfect circle. The hilt of the hanjari connected with the side of the boy’s head, knocking him unconscious. He slumped to the ground. Koffi had barely caught her breath when she heard more footsteps.
“She’s there!” one of the boys cried, running toward her. “Don’t move, or—”
The light erupted.
It was sudden and consuming. Koffi’s eyes went wide as pure light exploded from the once-tiny flickers and became magnificent auras of glittering gold. She rose from her crouch and stepped into the hallway. Her surroundings looked almost white, washed out and devoid of all color but that same constant white-gold. She looked down and saw that the boy who had been running was on his hands and knees.
“I can’t see!” he shouted. “Someone help, I can’t see!”
Koffi broke from her stupor. The splendor was still helping her. With ease, she ran in the opposite direction. The minute she left the hall, she felt its light begin to fade, heard the boy’s disgruntled
shouts, but she kept running with the sparkles overhead. They were guiding her forward.
She reached a large wooden door at the end of the hall, and the tug in her navel grew more pronounced, more insistent. Her heartbeat stuttered in her chest as she stopped before it, uncertain. There was no sound on the other side to indicate anything was there, but this was where the fireflies had stopped.
Please, she prayed. Please be right.
She wrapped her fingers around the door handle; to her surprise, it turned without protest. She stepped inside the room and froze.
It looked like an old storage closet, brooms and buckets pushed haphazardly to the side. A large bed of hay covered the stone cobbles in the center of the room, and there atop it was Adiah. Most of her body was bloody, latticed in an assortment of nicks and cuts, and the few parts that weren’t cut were bound tight with thick rope. Just looking at them made Koffi cringe.
“Adiah!”
She crossed the room, dropping to her knees beside the creature at once. Adiah snarled, but it was half-hearted, a sound full of defeat. Tentatively, Koffi’s fingers grazed her head, her back, and one of her cut-up paws. They’d abused her horribly. Furious tears filled Koffi’s eyes.
“I’m getting you out of here.” She held Adiah’s gaze, hoping that could convey her message. “Just hang on, I’m going to get you out of these ropes. I just don’t know . . .” She tugged at the biggest knots, near the beast’s neck, with all her might, but they wouldn’t budge; then she tried using the dagger without luck either. It would take too long to saw through all the knots. She sat back on her heels and swore.
“Any ideas?”
Adiah’s eyes weren’t on Koffi anymore, but on Ekon’s hanjari. She looked from it to Koffi’s face several deliberate times before Koffi understood.
“Oh. I’ve never tried that.”
Adiah offered an encouraging nod, and Koffi looked down at the blade. Nausea was beginning to churn in her stomach, and she knew she was probably nearing the limits of how much splendor she could allow to pass through her body in such a short space of time, but she willed it anyway. At her beckon, warmth flooded her instantly, as though she’d swallowed a piece of sunrise. She focused hard on the hanjari until its silver blade illuminated gold. This time, when she pressed it to the rope, it cut through like butter, and in a matter of seconds the rest of the rope fell away around Adiah’s body. The beast rose and stretched.
“Come on.” Koffi jumped to her feet too and headed for the door. “We’ve got to get out of here!”
As quickly and quietly as she could, she steered Adiah back down the hallway. Her heart lurched when voices pounded from the other end.
“It was over here!” a familiar voice shouted, growing rapidly louder. “I can’t explain it, Father, come quick!”
Koffi’s stomach turned. Her muscles were spasming from the splendor she had already used, but she had no choice. She called to it yet again. This time, it came forth in a swell, surging through her so fast her knees buckled. Light filled the corridor and spread, growing brighter by the moment. In its luminance, four new figures were hunched on the ground, covering their eyes. One was wearing a deep blue robe she recognized. The Kuhani. His face was full of naked fear as he grasped uselessly at the light with eyes screwed shut. Koffi and Adiah skirted around him as he bared his teeth in a grimace.
“This is the work of the daraja!” he said. “She’s gotten out and set the Shetani free! Find the Sons! Tell them to seal the city’s front gates and send men to the borderlands, now!”
The boys didn’t move.
“Now!”
“Sir, we can’t—”
Koffi led Adiah down the hall at a sprint. She knew as soon as the light was gone and their eyes readjusted they’d begin their search, and she had no desire to be around for that. Her stomach somersaulted as Father Olufemi’s words sank in. He was sending warriors to the borderlands, the city’s exits were going to be sealed. Time was up. She, Ekon, and Adiah had to leave.
“Faster!” Every muscle in her body ached as she pushed herself to run down the last hallway, back to her exit point. It was getting harder to breathe, harder to see, and she knew she’d pushed too far. She would pay for it later.
They reached the back of the stable, and a tidal wave of relief flooded her body despite the pain. Now if they could just find—
She froze as she heard a scream.
It split the temple’s quiet, long and agonizing. Adiah snarled, and Koffi stilled. She knew that voice and who it belonged to. She’d know it anywhere.
Ekon.
CHAPTER 32
The Madness
By the time Ekon reached the corridor, he was drenched in sweat.
He’d run from the worship hall as fast as he could, but getting here had still taken what felt like an eternity. His heart rattled against his ribs as he ripped open the door to the old closet and barreled up its narrow steps, on edge. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t thought of the sky garden before; perhaps it was because it seemed more dream than real. Perhaps he hadn’t wanted to. Regardless, it was the last place he’d seen Brother Ugo, and it was his last chance.
Please, he prayed. Please be right.
He shouldered open the trapdoor, then pulled himself up and into the sky garden.
The moon above hung low, eerie as its light cast a silver sheen over the overgrown flowers. But Ekon ignored them, searching until he found a figure sitting on a stone bench in the garden’s center. The person’s back was turned away, but he recognized its shape.
“Brother Ugo!”
At the sound of his name, the old man turned. Pain lanced through Ekon as he took his mentor in. Brother Ugo’s face was wrong—it had withered as though a whole decade had passed since they’d last seen each other. Ekon’s heart lurched when the old man held out a frail, trembling hand and smiled.
“Ekon, my dear boy.”
The words broke Ekon from his trance. He crossed the garden in what felt like only two strides and threw his arms around the old man as carefully as he could. It was disturbing to feel so many new bones jutting from Brother Ugo’s body where they hadn’t been before, but he didn’t care. Brother Ugo was alive, safe.
“I thought they’d— I thought you might be—” He found he couldn’t finish any of those sentences. He pulled away from Brother Ugo to look at him properly. Aside from the withered face and worn eyes, he looked generally well, and that was what mattered. “I’m glad to see you, Brother.”
Brother Ugo offered a kind, albeit confused smile. “As am I to see you, Ekon. I admit, I didn’t expect a visit so soon. If my information is correct, I’m now speaking with an initiated Son of the Six. Congratulations.”
Guilt pricked in the back of Ekon’s mind, but he brushed it away. “Brother . . .” The words came to him, then died in his throat. He’d known, from the second he and Koffi had gone their separate ways, what he was going to have to say to Brother Ugo if he found him. He’d gone over the words more than once as he’d searched the temple. But staring into the eyes of the old man who’d helped raise him and taught him everything he knew, he found what he had to say nearly impossible. He was going to have to break his mentor’s heart.
“Brother,” he murmured. “I’ve come because I need to tell you something.”
“In good time, in good time.” Brother Ugo waved the words away like tsetse flies. “I want to hear all about your heroic adventure into the Greater Jungle! I’ve already heard some of it, of course, but I want the details from you. How did you survive? How did you find the Shetani? Was it difficult to capture?”
“Brother.” Ekon spoke more firmly. “Please listen to me. We need to leave this garden right away, and we need to leave Lkossa. It’s not safe here. You’re not safe here.”
“Safe?” Brother Ugo’s white brows arched. “Quite the contrary, Ekon. Lkossa is the safes
t it’s been in nearly a century, thanks to you. I’m told the Kuhani is preparing to destroy the creature as we speak. There will be no more killings!”
“That’s just it, Brother,” said Ekon. “The Shetani hasn’t been killing people.” He swallowed. “It’s been the Sons of the Six.”
“What?” Brother Ugo clutched his chest as though there was a real danger his heart might fail him. “What did you say?”
Ekon’s own chest ached at his mentor’s disbelief, but he went on. “Earlier tonight, I overheard my brother and the Kuhani talking in his study. Father Olufemi admitted he’d ordered the murders himself. And Kamau admitted he’d been carrying them out. He implied other warriors were involved too.”
Brother Ugo shook his head, his mouth still agape in horror. He looked so small, helpless. “I—I don’t believe it,” he stammered. His eyes were wet, terrified. “The Order wouldn’t allow—our own warriors could never do such a—”
“I think it’s more complicated than that, Brother,” said Ekon. “When I saw Kamau earlier, he didn’t look . . . like himself. Father Olufemi gave him something called hasira leaf to calm him down, then told him to keep his mouth shut. I read about it in Nkrumah’s journal. It has all sorts of bad side effects, hallucinations and memory loss, to name just a few. When Kamau described the things he did, he made it sound like it was a bad dream, like it was something he didn’t fully understand. If other warriors are having similar experiences, they may have been killing people for years under the leaves’ influence without understanding it.”
“Ekon—”
“You remember the way Shomari was that time in the temple,” Ekon continued. “That time he randomly picked a fight with me and got irrationally angry? I think he was having a bad reaction to the hasira leaf. I think it makes people violent.”
“Ekon.” Brother Ugo had shifted away from him on the bench, shaking his head emphatically. “This is inconceivable, even by the furthest stretches of the imagination. The Shetani is a monster, and she has killed our people for years. Do you know how many bodies I’ve seen cremated, the marks I saw on those bodies? Those victims . . . their injuries couldn’t possibly have been the work of a human being. No person could be that violent.”
