As soon as Lagos came into sight, Sunny checked her phone. It was evening and in the darkness the screen of her phone glowed like a star. It had one bar of energy left. When she saw the date and the time, she laughed. She leaned back, her hand pressed to her chest. She shut her eyes. Only a few hours had passed since they’d flown away from her irrationally terrified brother.
Her relief only lasted a few seconds. She sat up. “If no one else is going to ask, I will,” she said. “What are we going to do?”
“Let them whoop our asses and throw us in one of the other library basements where you haven’t killed whatever is lurking in there,” Sasha said.
Sunny gasped, whispering, “Oh God, we’re all going to die.”
Sasha shrugged. “What else can we do? Go on the run? I ain’t. I’ve got an education to obtain. I’d rather just face the music… whatever it is.”
“But what about Grashcoatah?” Sunny said. “Maybe he should have stayed in Osisi. There are more of his kind there, anyway.”
“I thought about that,” Orlu said. “But he’d never really be safe. They’ll still eventually find him.” He patted Grashcoatah’s back, and Grashcoatah grunted. “We’ve already talked it over.”
“You and Grashcoatah?” Chichi asked.
“Yes,” Orlu said. “I wanted him to stay in Osisi, but he convinced me that it was better if he took the chance and tried to clear his name. He doesn’t believe he did anything wrong; it was an accident. Really, there are moments of breach between the Lamb and Leopard worlds all the time. Someone sees, hears, or walks into something. And usually Lambs don’t believe or understand what they see. No one gets punished for those because they’re accidents. Well, this was an accident, too.”
“True,” Sasha said.
“It’s still risky, though,” Chichi said. “The council’s rigid as hell.”
“We have to state our case well,” Orlu said. “Really well. Grashcoatah could lose his life.”
“So could we, if they put us with something like that djinn,” Sunny said. But she understood the difference. For Grashcoatah, death could be guaranteed.
“Sunny just defeated Ekwensu,” Orlu said. “She sent her back into the wilderness, and now she can’t cause the apocalypse. I think the council will take well to the idea that Grashcoatah helped make that happen. We need to explain things. Sunny’s brother had to be with us, or Sunny wouldn’t have been allowed to come to Lagos to meet Udide who wove Grashcoatah who took us to Osisi. You see?”
They all did. And so it was decided.
Invisible, Grashcoatah softly landed in the compound. They all climbed off, making sure to hang on to his fur. Adebayo’s Hummer and Chukwu’s Jeep were parked and the house was quiet except for the sound of the TV in a room on the second floor. It was close to midnight.
“Okay,” Orlu whispered. “One, two, three!”
They all let go of Grashcoatah’s fur at the same time. The warm breeze met Sunny’s face. They were visible now. She could hear Grashcoatah quietly move to the side of the house. “Goodnight,” she whispered. Part of one of the bushes disappeared and she could hear Grashcoatah chewing.
They rang the doorbell, Sunny standing in the front. She took a deep breath, holding on to the doorway to steady herself. Was her brother even here? Maybe they had taken him. Maybe he’d run off into the street and been killed by oncoming traffic. The door opened. He took one look at her. His eyes grew wide and his nostrils flared. Then he grabbed her into a hug. “Thank God,” he said.
When Chukwu let her go, he looked at the others and they looked at him. He clearly wanted to say something. Then his mouth pressed shut. “Have… have you had dinner yet?” he finally asked.
They all said no.
“You and Chichi can go make it, then,” he said with a laugh. “Adebayo and I haven’t eaten, either.”
They all went inside. Before following them in, Chukwu looked outside at the parked cars and the rest of the compound. Sunny stayed back and caught his shoulder. “Are you all right?” she asked.
He opened his mouth to say something. Then instead paused for a very long time, an uncomfortable look on his face, again. “I… I am now, Sunny,” he said. “You should call Mummy and Daddy.”
She nodded, bringing out her cell phone. She watched Chukwu join the others in the kitchen. From his behaviour, it was clear. The council had performed a trust knot on him, yet they hadn’t altered his memory. How much did he know? And why was he allowed to know? She called her parents.