I hadn’t a clue how far Okeniyi was from Sanaga, and I didn’t even want to look through the Book to find out. I was too tired. I needed sleep.
When I woke up, the darkness had turned to the bright blue of the morning. We were traveling over a body of water, not the Atlantic Ocean but a sea that jutted to the west. When a small strip of land appeared, I whistled. Zion and Aliyah woke up. I pointed forward.
“I think we’re coming up on Okeniyi.” As we moved close to it, the gryphons began to screech. The island was very small and full of dense trees.
We dove toward the shoreline and fell to the sand with a thump. “I’ll be back,” I reassured Ugo. “Fly over the island until I call for you. Stay hidden so that the trickster god can’t see you.” Ugo took off, and the other two gryphons followed him.
I gazed at the line of trees. “Nothing to do but walk until we get a glimpse of Agwu. Remember, he can take any form.”
We started to traipse through the trees, cutting down branches and stems with our swords. It was clear that no one had visited this place in years, decades even, because everything was tangled together, and the vines grew with reckless abandon. Once we got through the thickets, we found the inside of the small forest to be cool and a great protection from the sun.
We walked in silence as we moved deeper through the forest. I hoped that we would hear something soon, but nothing but darkness and more trees greeted us. By the time afternoon came, I was covered in mosquito bites and was beginning to get cranky and hungry.
“Whose idea was this again?” Zion asked, his face full of sweat. “What if Agwu isn’t even here?”
“I doubt that,” Aliyah said, pulling fruit from her bag and passing it to us. “The Book hasn’t been wrong yet, has it?”
I couldn’t disagree with that, so we kept moving. Finally, we reached slivers of sunlight filtering through the trees. I moved the branches aside with my sword, and we walked into a bright, oval-shaped clearing, complete with deep green grass that held the scent of home. The sun shone down on the flower-filled ground, the sight a welcome respite. Through the trees, a small house sat, smoke billowing from its chimney. The smoke smelled of roasted meat.
Although the house was small, it reminded me of the warm presence of my grandma’s home. “Is anyone else hungry?” I asked.
“I am,” Zion responded. “The peaches and plums didn’t really do much for my stomach.”
“We need to be careful,” Aliyah said, her brow furrowed in concern.
“Come on, Aliyah, don’t you smell that?” Zion said. “A smell like that can’t mean anything evil.”
Aliyah stepped back into the cover of the trees, shivering a bit. “No, I don’t think so. I’ve felt this feeling before. Once when we got the crown. And now here. I have to pay attention to that feeling. And I think y’all should, too.”
“Aliyah, just listen—” I pleaded, but she had already backed far into the woods.
“Come on, Zion.” I sighed. “We can’t do this without her help.” We found Aliyah standing near an old tree, a hollow carved out in its middle. A frustrated look crossed her face when we joined her. She interrupted me as soon as I was about to call her name again.
“No,” she whispered. “Open the Book, Cameron. I don’t like this feeling.”
I closed my eyes and brought it forward again. It swirled around the clearing, zipping from tree to tree, shining with a ruby light. It stopped in front of me.
“Didn’t we already read it?” Zion whined. “I’m hunnngrry.”
“Aliyah is right,” I said, even though my stomach gurgled. “We can’t walk into this without a plan.”
Aliyah reached up and grabbed the Book with both hands; it turned solid at her touch. She raced furiously through it until she got to the passage about Ramala’s scepter. “We need to read it again,” she murmured to herself. “There has to be something in here about how to fight him. He’s a trickster god who tried to steal from the queen. There can’t be anything good about him.” She read the passage aloud again.
Zion’s forehead crinkled. “I think ‘good’ is a term that doesn’t really apply to a trickster god, right? Like, I don’t think Agwu would be good or bad. He’s a trickster by nature, not because he wants to be.”
“Shh,” Aliyah said as she continued to read aloud. It was a short passage, not much connected to it at all. “There,” she said, pointing at the end of the section. “It says that Ramala used a spell, ‘ikposa,’ to unravel Agwu’s magic to overpower him. It’s probably the only word you can use to defeat him.”
“Did she really defeat a god, though?” I asked. “Or does the spell only work for a time?”
“It has to be just for a time,” Aliyah said, handing the Book back to me. “Which is why she put a barrier around this island, right? A human being can’t really kill a god, I don’t think.”
“So what’s the plan?” Zion said, shifting from foot to foot.
“Ramala was strong when she used that spell,” I pointed out. “The gifts gave her the power of the gods. She was no mere human. Only a godlike person could take out a god in that way, even if it was just for a short time.”
“We need to use it against him if he doesn’t help us,” Aliyah said. “It’s the only way.”
“No,” I said. “Believe me, we are nowhere near as powerful as Ramala was when she used that spell. We could get hurt if we used it.”
“I don’t know,” Aliyah said, beginning to pace back and forth. “I just don’t know about this.”
“Well, Cam and I can go,” Zion offered. “That way, if something happens, at least you can fly back to the Palacia if you need to.”
“I agree,” I said. I took her hands, which had begun to tremble. “I have the Book. Nothing will happen to me. I’ll protect Zion as well.”
She nodded and gave me a hug. “Be careful, okay? I’ll be right out here.”
“If we don’t come back in thirty minutes, get help. Fly quickly.”
“But we don’t have watches and if we did, they probably won’t work here,” Zion said.
“I’ll count down in my head,” Aliyah said.
“Okay,” I said. I took Zion’s hand and used our catchphrase. “We do this together.” He nodded in response as I yanked the Book back inside me. We walked past the cover of the trees again and into the clearing where Agwu’s house sat.
The wooden door opened, and a figure stepped out. My hand tightened on my sword. “Agwu,” I said. The figure walked into the light. He didn’t have the tall stature of a god; he wasn’t much taller than us, actually. Unlike the other gods I had seen, he looked human, with brown eyes, brown skin, and hair cut close to his head. He wore a long kaftan and sandals. No weapons appeared on his body, and no scepter was in his hands.
“Children,” Agwu said, his voice deep, reminding me of my daddy’s. “You must be hungry. Come inside. No one has visited Okeniyi in decades.”
The god gestured us forward, and we walked closer to him.
“I must admit that I may have lost some of my human attributes since being put here, so excuse me. I will leave the door open for you. If you would like food and shelter, please come in. If not, you may leave. I won’t harm you.” He walked inside.
“He’s a trickster,” I said.
“Maybe he’s changed!” Zion said. “If he’s been banished here for decades, I’m sure he’s had a lot of time to think about his actions, right? And anyway, like I said, I’m hungry.”
“Same.”
“Also,” Zion said, “we’re smart. We can play tricks of our own. And we have Aliyah.”
“True. Okay, let’s do this.”
Zion followed right behind me.
The home was fashioned and furnished for a god. Large brass spears were positioned in each corner, their spikes so heavy and big that they held up the mud-woven ceiling. Igbo ceremonial face masks etched in the shapes of lions, elephants, leopards, and tigers were fastened to the earthen walls, made with beads and strung together. Djembe drums, covered in fabric and shells, were set haphazardly around the room, drumsticks made of hard animal bone resting on the floor near them. Mallets, swords, and hammers were pinned to walls, shining with a silvery glint. Plush ruby rugs sat on the floor, spreading from the entrance to the home, to the common areas, and to an enclosed back area that I could not see.
In the middle of the common room sat a throne, its center furnished with large pillows, its back made from metal that soared to the sky.
A roaring fire crackled in the hearth; large multicolored cushions, the size of big animals, spread around it, thrown on the rugs with reckless abandon. Agwu’s place felt … peaceful. A sense of warmth settled upon my shoulders as I took in the sight.
We sat at a wooden table in the middle of the room. Agwu was nowhere in sight. There was a closed door to the left of the cabin.
A few minutes later, he came through that door and placed warm goblets of tea in front of us. “We shouldn’t,” I said as Zion reached for them. The god left and returned with trays full of honey cakes, spring rolls, spiced venison, jollof rice, and fresh greens. After setting the trays down, he produced eating utensils and placed them in front of us.
He sat and waited for us to eat. When we didn’t touch the food, he reached out for some meat and took a bite. “The food isn’t poisoned. Like I said, I don’t have many visitors.”
How did he prepare food so fast and have it waiting for us? Did he know we were coming?
Zion shrugged and began to eat.
“I don’t think this is going to work,” I said, standing up, about to pull Zion with me. Agwu grabbed my hand and inclined his head to the side; an immediate sense of peace flowed through me.
“I shall do you no harm.”
“Yes … no harm,” I repeated, sitting back down.
“We have a specific question to ask you,” I said, stuffing my face with the much-needed food.
“Oh?” Agwu said, taking another sip of his tea. The right side of his mouth lifted.
“We are looking for a specific artifact, something Amadioha made. Do you happen to know anything about that?” I asked.
“Hmm, very curious,” the god responded. “No, I do not.”
I kept going. “Well, the Book told us that you wanted Amadioha’s scepter. So we thought you might know something about it.”
“Ah, the scepter. That’s what you’re talking about? Well, while I did want it, I wasn’t able to convince my brother to give it to me. I haven’t seen the scepter for years, my boy.”
“According to the Book, you tried to trick the queen. However, she banished you here to this island. It makes sense to me that you would want it back.”
The air around me vibrated a bit, almost like heat was rising in the cottage. I shook my head to clear it.
“How would you know such a thing? Who are you?” he asked.
I leaned forward. “Let’s just say that I know more than you think I do.”
“Then you would know that I don’t have it. The queen used her magic to send me here, and I haven’t been able to leave this place, although I’ve tried.”
“Well then, do you at least know where we can find it?”
“Do you know how I can leave this island?” The god smiled sweetly at me, but there was danger in his eyes. There was something else, too, but I couldn’t place it. It was as if someone or something was trying to warn me.
“No, I don’t know how to get you off this island,” I said.
“But if you are here, and you want the scepter … does that mean it is now lost?”
I shook my head. “Maybe? What if I’m not here on the queen’s behalf? What if I’m here just to ask about the scepter? What if I want it for myself?”
“Then you would be a fool. No one goes against the queen and survives.”
I lifted my goblet to toast to him. “But you did.”
He laughed so loudly that the house shook. Zion looked confused, and then went back to eating.
“You are a smart one, aren’t you?”
I shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe I’m smarter here than I am back …”
My words made him perk up a bit, and he raised his eyebrows. “Smarter here than … where?”
Returning my attention to my food, I began to eat again. “Back in my home … in Asaba.”
His eyebrows lowered. “Oh.”
He turned to the open window. “It’s grown dark. Maybe you want to sleep, and we can continue this conversation tomorrow? Maybe you can help me and in return, I will help you find the scepter?”
“Wait, we’ve been here that long? We just arrived!” Zion said.
“Well, he is the trickster god, right?” I said.
The god smiled and waved his arms around the living area. “I assure you that this is no trick. You must sleep. You are tired. It must have been forever since you last ate anything of substance. You are certainly tired and sleepy after all that food …”
Before I could say anything else, he disappeared in a ball of light.
The serving trays and cups disappeared from the table, too. I couldn’t help but pat my stomach in satisfaction. The sound of a chair scraping the floor brought my attention back to the present. Zion stood, stretched his arms over his head, and proceeded to one of the large cushions in front of the fire. He got underneath the covers, laid his head on the pillow, and closed his eyes. A distinct memory of Aliyah floated through my mind, but it disappeared quickly.
“Good night,” he said.
“Was he telling the truth?” I asked him.
“I don’t know, Cameron. I’m tired. We can discuss tomorrow.”
At his words, I felt drowsy, too, but I kept myself awake. Everything seemed confusing and disorienting. Something told me that I should also go to sleep. I looked around, and the images in front of me blurred. There was something behind the images, something gray and sickening, but I couldn’t quite figure it out.
Shaking my head, I grabbed a blanket and a pillow and curled up on an area rug. I placed my sword right beside me.
“Zion?”
I heard him snore.
“Zion?” I called again.
“Cam, I’m trying to sleep.”
“Do you believe Agwu?”
“Hmm … yesnoyesno, Mama and Daddy,” was his response before he was snoring again.
I rolled over, another memory of Aliyah coming to my mind, but it disappeared once again. I reasoned that whatever I wanted to say could wait until tomorrow … or the next day … or centuries from now …