As we flew through the air, I tried to put on a brave face. I could tell Zion regretted going into that attic with Aliyah and me. I should never have allowed them up there.
My gryphon screeched and flew closer to Aliyah. “Are you mad at me?” I yelled over the roaring wind. We had left the forest behind and climbed so far into the sky that we could see only water splashing below us. It was beautiful but also kind of terrifying.
“No, I’m not,” Aliyah said. I stared ahead, trying my hardest not to look at her. If I hadn’t agreed to go back up to the attic, we never would have been attacked by evil creatures. Zion and Aliyah could have died, and it would have been all my fault.
“I don’t regret it, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Aliyah said. “I asked you if we could go back to the attic. This is on me.”
I turned to her. “It’s still my fault. The Book belongs to my family. I think I’m the only one it really wanted, the only one who should have come.”
“So why did it take all of us, then?”
I shrugged and clutched the Book closer to me.
My stomach jolted as the gryphons descended in the direction of what looked like a huge city. “I think we’re almost there.”
The creatures swooped down, and we saw the palace for the first time, looking exactly as it had appeared in The Book of Chidani. It was an iron fortress, built right into the rocky facade of a mountain range that stretched as far to the left and right as the eye could see. It also extended high into the air, up through the clouds. Near the base of the mountain were guardhouses and iron platforms that carried people up to the entrance. We saw an enclosure that held more gryphons, screeching at the sky as we passed. Turrets and towers soared into the air like fists, and the entire palace was surrounded by stone walls, protecting its people from the mountain’s edge.
I thought through the stories Mama had told me. This had to be Queen Ramala’s palace, where she and her sister had lived since Chidani was formed. According to the stories, it was built with magic and was the heart of all power in the kingdom.
We approached a grand courtyard. A large set of doors, from what I remembered, opened to a throne room. We hit the grass with a hard jolt that sent harsh pain through my arm. I gritted my teeth, then watched as Aliyah and Zion jumped off the gryphons and made their way toward the doors. I tried to slowly lower myself down to the ground so as not to hurt my arm again, but it was farther than I thought.
Guards, carrying hefty iron weapons and wearing black armor and thick boots, immediately surrounded us. They spoke to us in Igbo, and they took our swords away from us. I couldn’t understand what they were saying. Almost immediately, the Book glowed with a light the color of royal blue, spreading from me, connecting with Zion, and then with Aliyah. When the guards spoke again, I realized that I could understand everything they were saying now.
“We don’t—” Aliyah managed to say before she was marched off toward the castle doors.
“Aliyah!” I called out. I ran after her, but the cold pressure of a sword at my neck stopped me.
“You follow us, boy,” a guard said to me. He was tall, with muscles so big, they seemed to bulge out of his heavy armor. His face was striking, as if his features had been carved by the sharpest angles of a knife. His eyes reminded me of Zion’s. His skin was dark, like mine, and his words were harsh. “The queen demands an audience.”
We were led up ivory marble steps that looked like they were encrusted with diamonds and pushed through scarlet double doors embossed with gold. I crushed the Book to my chest as we walked, determined to never let it out of my sight again, and took a deep breath, trying to ignore my arm’s throbbing pain. I snuck a glance to my right and there was Aliyah. The color was gone from Zion’s face when I peered at him.
They led us to another set of doors, where we stopped and waited. My guard rapped on the door. A few seconds later, it opened, and another guard let us through into the Throne Room.
Loud voices and music greeted us. Finely dressed people filtered through the room, talking and laughing with one another. The music came from a harp and flute on the left side of the room, where another group was dancing. Hands raised and connected; then the people turned in a circle to find their next dancing partner. More women milled around the room than men, and everyone had dark-brown skin. The men wore multicolored kaftans, sandals laced with golden string, and crowns made of leaves. The women were dressed in long-flowing gowns that swept the floor as they danced, flowers braided in their hair.
A fluttering sound drew my attention to the ceiling. Small creatures with wings protruding from their backs flitted in and out of the towering ivory and cobalt pillars. They looked like fairies, and like the people, they, too, were dark-skinned. They flew across the room, leaving glittering dust upon the heads of the people below. I stared in openmouthed awe. Could these be the aziza? They were usually found in the Crystal City, which was through the Supernatural Forest. But up until today, all these things had existed only in the tales my parents told me.
I still couldn’t believe I was actually in Chidani.
Within moments of our arrival, the music stopped, and all eyes were on us. The guards pushed us forward.
I trembled as we walked down an aisle that had formed, as the people parted to make a path to the throne. It felt as though the world underneath my feet was shifting. I couldn’t think, and I was sure that if anyone wanted me to speak, only a whimper would come out. I pinched my arm to make sure I was awake. But it was numb, which was probably not a good sign.
The throne was set on a raised dais at the front of the room, made of the same ivory and cobalt as the columns, but it was embossed with gold that wrapped around the feet of the structure all the way to the top. Alabaster steps led up to where a woman sat.
I gasped. The woman, who I assumed was Queen Ramala, had truly changed, just like I’d seen. She was why Grandma had gotten scared and barred me from the attic. The queen’s braids, which flowed down the sides of the throne, were speckled with gray, and her brown skin was lined with wrinkles. She was no longer the woman with the gold-rimmed eyes who I had seen as a child. She was also not wearing the diamond crown that was supposed to be sitting on her head.
My skin began to tingle as things I had read about for years came to life around me, a heavy feeling settling in my stomach. I couldn’t help myself; as I approached the throne, I used my right hand to cross my heart, almost disbelieving. But believing at the same time.
Beside her stood another woman, so tall that the crown on her head inched close to the top of one of the columns. She was draped in jewels, and her iro was tight around her body, leaving one of her shoulders bare. She radiated a familiar power. I felt as if I should have known who she was.
“Queen Ramala, the children you sent for,” my guard said, pushing me closer to the throne steps.
Queen Ramala beckoned us forward. “Ahh yes, the ones who broke through the barrier. Why are you pointing swords at them, Makai? Have you lost all sense?”
Makai lowered the sword from my back and gestured to the rest of the guards to remove theirs from Aliyah and Zion.
“Welcome to the Palacia,” the queen said, “my home in Asaba, the capital city. You will have to forgive the captain of my guard. Things have … changed in the last few years. Makai is only making sure that no harm comes to me …”
Aliyah swayed against me. “I’m scared, Cam.”
“I am, too,” I said.
Zion couldn’t even speak. He was staring, openmouthed, at everything around us.
A halo of snowy white light surrounded the woman standing by Queen Ramala. She reached for Aliyah, towering over her.
Terror gripped me, but then I saw that the woman’s face was knotted in concern. “No need to fear,” she said. “You are both hurt. Allow me to heal you, my lady,” she said to Aliyah.
“But I’m not—” Aliyah said before she gasped. The woman plucked one of the white lights surrounding her head, then blew it into Aliyah’s face.
“Who is that? She looks familiar,” Zion managed to croak.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I remember seeing her picture somewhere …”
“I am Agbala, the star goddess,” she said. “Daughter and priestess of the Supreme Mother, Ala. I’m Mother’s justice on this world. I dole out punishment when necessary and heal those who have been hurt.”
The warmth of the magic radiated from Aliyah’s body as the gash on her forehead healed. It felt like my father’s last hug; it smelled of the peppermints my grandma gave me during Sunday service to keep me quiet and still as the pastor preached his sermons.
Aliyah smiled at Agbala.
The goddess peered down at me, knitted her brows, and sucked her teeth. At the noise, the entire Royal Court quieted. “I will take care of your arm later; we must talk together first.”
“I grow tired,” Queen Ramala said. I looked past the goddess toward the throne; the queen was hunched over. “I will speak to the children later after they are healed. Makai, lead them to their suites.”
Makai prodded us away from the queen, much more softly this time, before I could say anything else. I felt the goddess’s gaze piercing my back as I carried the Book underneath my good arm. Her magic felt like it flowed through my body, even though she hadn’t used it directly on me.
“Wait,” I said, turning back to the queen. “Why did you send for us?”
The right side of the queen’s mouth lifted. “Because we need you.”